It was on Columbia's twenty-five yard line now, rather closer to the goal than Captain Frank liked, but he resolved to get right into the play now, and called for the line-up. There was a whispered conference between Wallace and Allen, and then the quarter began calling the signal, emphasizing the first number. A thrill seemed to run through the Clifford players, and when Paul Bird snapped back the ball to the captain, instead of to the quarter, who, all along, had acted as if he meant to take it, there was a sudden rush on the part of Clifford, but it was too late. They had prepared for a play around their left end, but Frank quickly passed the pigskin to Ralph West, the left half, who sprang forward on the jump, and tore through a hole made between the unsuspecting right guard and tackle of Columbia's opponents. Through Ralph plowed, heaving and plunging his way, aided by a splendid interference, knocking aside Wentworth, the opposing right half, and struggling forward for a good gain. "Oh, look at that, would you! Look! Look! He'll get a touchdown!" "Touchdown nothing!" growled a disgusted Cliffordite, "What's the matter with our fellows, anyhow, to be fooled like that?" "Guess they read our signals wrong!" retorted the admirer of Columbia High, with a chuckle. "Oh, wow! Look at that! Hastings nailed him that time!" Ralph had gone down under a fierce tackle by the big opposing captain, but the plucky left half had made a good gain, and, as he rose and held his hand on the ball until Bird came up to take it, there was an outburst of cheers that warmed his heart. "Good work, old man!" whispered Frank, as he ran up. "We fooled 'em that time!" Herman Hooker led his gallant band of shouters in an impromptu war-dance back of the grandstand, their frenzied shouts of joy at the splendid play sounding loud above the other yells. Then came quiet, while the players again lined up, and the calling of the signals could plainly be heard across the gridiron. It was useless for Clifford to listen, if, perchance, she had sneakingly obtained a line on the play system of Columbia, for Lanky was using the changed code, and only he and his men knew it. Slowly he called off. It was an indication for Frank to take the ball, on a try around right end. Back came the oval with a clean snap, and the next moment Frank, with it firmly tucked under his arm, was circling around Evans, while Oakes, Harper and Shadduck had gotten into play on the jump, and had successfully pocketed their opposing end tackle and guard. Forward leaped Frank, with Shadduck and Oakes forming splendid interference for him. Down the line they sprinted, while once more the frenzied shouts broke forth: "Touchdown! Touchdown!" "Go it, old man! Go it!" It began to look as if Frank would score, for big Hastings was the only man available to tackle him, as the other two backs had played in so far that they were now hopelessly in the mixup of tangled figures. "Go on! Go on!"