There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The little ball on the board shoots to the middle of the field. "Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts. The announcer steps forward again. "That was the wrong announcement," he admits. "Tweedy caught the kick-off and ran the ball back twenty-five yards to midfield, where he is thrown for a loss. On the next play there was a forward pass, Klung to Breakwater, which--" Here the message stops. Intense excitement. "Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity." The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes and says to his neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted." A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer winds his watch. Then he steps forward. There is a noisy hush. "It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the Palmer Stadium to-day to watch Yale and Princeton in their annual gridiron contest," he reads. "Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was greeted by salvos and applause and cheering from the Yale section. A minute later the Princeton team appeared, and this was a signal for the Princeton cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their famous 'Undertaker's Song.'" "How about that forward pass?" This, as one man, from the audience. The ball quivers and starts to go down the field. A mighty shout goes up. Then something happens, and the ball stops, looks, listens and turns in the other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in the mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place, upside down. Agile spectators figure out that it says "Pass failed." Every one then sinks back and says, "They ought not to have tried that." If the quarterback could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing of their team at this juncture he would trot into the locker building then and there. Again the clear voice from the platform: "Tweedy punts--" (noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on a chair and yells "Yea!" and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble fumbles." The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but is prevented. Frightful tension follows. Who recovered? Whose ball is it? On what line? Wet palms are pressed against trouser legs. How about it? "Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity." You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he steps forward. "Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone," he enunciates. Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular man in that section of the country. Every one turns to see what a man of his stamp can look like. He is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat and refuses to answer the call. [Illustration: "Noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on chair and yells 'Yea!'"] "Klung goes around right end for a gain of two yards," is the next message from the front. The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!" "How about that fumble?" shouts every one else. The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it over with the man who works the Punch-and-Judy, and emerges, smiling.