Suddenly the raging brute uttered a series of fearful sounds, and started directly for one of the players on the field, as though intending to attack him first. The vast crowd shrieked all manner of imploring directions, and unable to render assistance, just stood there and looked and prayed. But Frank Allen neither started to run nor moved to the aid of the threatened player for he had discovered that the one who stood there was Bones Shadduck, and in the leaping dog he had recognized the persistent Kaiser! CHAPTER XI CLIFFORD'S LAST HOPE "Why doesn't the fool run?" cried one man, quivering with suspense. "It's too late now! See, he's going to tackle the brute! He's got his hands out ready! Gee! what nerve!" bellowed another, this time from Clifford. A third laughed harshly, for the strain had been beat on everyone. "Its all off, fellows. That's _his_ dog!" he shouted. "Well, I'll be hanged! Look at him jumping up to lick the boy's face, will you? Did you ever? This takes the cake!" The crowd had by this time discovered that it was a false alarm, and by degrees the hysterical feeling wore off, though there were many who would not soon forget the awful sense of fear that had almost paralyzed their systems. Kaiser had apparently broken loose long after Bones had left home, and determined to find his beloved master, had trailed him to the football field. Possibly the faithful animal believed that there might be further need of his services, and that there were more fellows in need of trimming. Of course the game had to be delayed until Bones could lead Kaiser away, and secure him in a little room under the grandstand. The crowd howled and cheered as he went by, and Shadduck grinned in his usual happy fashion, feeling that for once at least he was in the exact limelight--thanks to Kaiser! Once more the two opposing teams faced each other on the field. The rushers were crouched, ready to spring forward as soon as the ball had been put into play. Comfort prepared to send in his best kick, after which the whole field would be in motion in the mad endeavor to urge the ball toward the goal of the opposing side. Jack was a famous punter and also a gilt-edged drop-kicker. He had a peculiar spiral kick that was calculated to be exceedingly puzzling to the enemy. And since much depended upon how far he sent the oval into the enemy's territory, all eyes were eagerly glued upon him now. "Plunk!" Away sailed the ball with the most erratic motion the Clifford men had ever seen in all their experience. Some ran this way, and then suddenly changed their course, as they realized the deceiving nature of the ball's aerial flight. But the Columbia ends knew just how the full-back would send the ball, and they shot for the spot, determined to reach there almost as soon as the enemy, and cut short his advantage for a run.