With something less than two minutes left, the stand breathed loudly with relief and Coach Cade hustled an assortment of substitutes on. Among these was an entire new backfield: Riding as quarter, Tyron and Parkhurst as halfs and Franklin as full. Obeying instructions, Riding shot Tyron at the Banning left tackle on first down and got two yards. A second attempt, however, yielded nothing, and Riding dropped back to his sixteen yards to punt. Thus far Alton’s line had held against all assaults of the enemy during like operations, but this time Banning had her eyes on that goal that loomed so close and put everything into a desperate charge that tore a gaping hole in the right of the Alton line. Riding received a pass that was a bit too low, straightened, turned the ball and started his swing. After that there was much confusion, a confusion of seething forms about a loose ball, for Riding had kicked the pigskin squarely into the body of a charging enemy! When the whistle blew a Banning player, the undermost of a pile of several, had the ball, and a bare two inches of its scarred surface overlapped Alton’s five-yard line. In the stand some four hundred youths stood and frenziedly implored their warriors to “_Hold, Alton!_” But Banning had tasted blood, had liked it and wanted more. Two new linemen were sent galloping on, and then, with less than sixty seconds of playing time remaining, Banning High School took revenge for several years of drubbing at the hands of Alton Academy. It required the full four downs to put that ball over, but over it went finally, while the timekeeper’s watch ticked off the last few seconds, over on a last frenzied surge at the very center of the Gray-and-Gold line from the two yards, with the back who carried the pigskin hurtling his way to victory over the shoulders of the defenders. Little cared Banning that she missed the try-for-point. She had won, 6 to 2. That was glory enough!