Dick seemed bent on beating down some of the formation surging against the visitors. Just as the bunch "clumped" Dave Darrin went down. There was a surge over him, and then Dick Prescott was seen racing as though for life. There was no opposition left---only Tottenville's quarter-back and the fullback. Tottenville's quarter got after fleeting Dick too late, for the whole movement had been one of startling trickery. One Tottenville halfback was too far away to make an obstructing dash in time. In dodging the other halfback Dick dashed on as though not seeing the fellow. This, however, was all trick. Just in the nick of time Prescott, still holding the ball, ducked and dodged far to the left, getting around his man. Tottenville's fullback was now the sole hope of the home team. Prescott, however, dodged that heavy fellow, also. From the Gridley boosters on the grand stand went up a medley of yells that dinned in the young left end's ears. Panting, all but fainting, Dick was over the enemy's goal line and he had the ball down. When Dave had emerged from that fruitless clumping he had a broad grin on his face. He saw that while Dick was not yet over the goal line, only the fullback was in the way and the fullback was no match for Dick in the matter of speed. Then the yells told the rest. Back came the ball. Captain Wadleigh nodded to Dave to kick the goal. Captain Grant looked utterly wild. He had assured everyone in Tottenville who had asked him that the Gridley "come ons" would be eaten alive. And here-----! Dave made the kick. After going down in that bunch Darrin was not at his best. Body and nerves were tired. He failed to kick the goal. Hardly, however, had the two teams been started in a new line-up when the time keeper did his trick. The game was over. That last kick had failed, but who cared? The score was eleven to two! Ere the players could escape from the field the Gridley boosters were over on the gridiron. Dick and Dave were bodily carried to dressing quarters. Wadleigh, who had shown fine generalship in this stiff game was cheered until the boosters went hoarse. "Gentlemen," cried Coach Morton, raising his voice to its fullest carrying power as the dressing quarters filled, "it's probably too early to brag, but I feel that we've got an old-fashioned Gridley eleven this year." "Ask Grant!" "Ask anybody in Tottenville!" The first yell was sent up by Ripley, the second by another substitute. All the Gridley members of the team were excited at the close of this game. Not even their weariness kept down their spirits. Herr Schimmelpodt didn't attempt to enter quarters. He was now too much of a "sport" to attempt that. But he stood just outside the door, vigorously mopping his shining, wet face. There were two extra places in the German's hired car. Dave, of course, was asked to fill one of these, and Captain Wadleigh was invited to take the fifth seat.