Rotan didn’t try to. She closed up and piled her backs at the left of the Grafton line and made three past Kinley and Franklin. She repeated the play for two more and then tried a skin-tackle play off Ted Trafford that worked for a scant yard. With four to go on fourth down her full-back dropped behind to the thirty yards and held his long arms out. But he didn’t kick when the ball came to him. Instead, there was a straight heave across the center and for a breathless instant it seemed that the visitors had again scored. But the end, who had managed to post himself behind the goal line, couldn’t hold the ball when it came to him and the pigskin changed hands. Hugh watched interestedly then to see how Pop Driver and the redoubtable Lambert were getting on. But the play was at the far end of the field and details were beyond his vision. Two tries netted the Scarlet-and-Gray less than five yards and Keyes punted high and far. Roy Dresser nailed the Rotan quarter on the enemy’s thirty-eight and once more Rotan started her open game. Four yards, eight yards, six yards, and the linesmen scampered with the chain. So far Rotan had not once tried a forward pass in the middle of the field, but when two tries netted but seven yards, she gave a remarkable exhibition of her ability in that department. The full-back went back to kicking position and the ball sped fast and true to him. Then, with two backs forming a tandem interference, he sped to the left. Tray, the Grafton right end, failed to get through and it was Ted Trafford who almost upset the runner well behind his line. But Ted’s tackle just failed and the full-back stopped short, turned and heaved the pigskin far down the field and to the right, where his own right end, quite uncovered, was waiting. Nick Blake brought down the runner on his thirty-six yards and won a salvo of applause. But after that there was no hope. Rotan snaked through the Grafton left side, ran both ends, faked two kicks, and finally, when the defenders fully expected a forward pass, massed on the center of the line and piled through Musgrave for the second touchdown. Rotan failed at goal and a moment later the half was at an end. “Thirteen to nothing, eh?” muttered Hanser, his eyes on the scoreboard. “I guess I can pretty nearly predict the final score, Ordway. About thirty-two to a goose-egg, I reckon. Rotan ought to be able to score three more touchdowns and kick at least one goal.” “Maybe we’ll buck up in the next half,” said Hugh hopefully. “We’ll have to do a lot of bucking,” grunted Hanser as he pulled himself from the seat. “I’m going down to look for a fellow. Keep my seat, will you?”