The play was resumed. There were only a few more minutes left, and the scrubs were trying with all their might to score again, while, on their part, the Varsity was trying to stop them. The scrub had the ball on the Varsity twenty-five yard line, when the signal came for a play through centre. Dick half guessed that it was coming, and when the man with the ball made his appearance in the hole torn for him, our hero met him with a suddenness that shocked them both. "I've got you!" cried the young millionaire. There was a revolving struggle, and then something hit Dick on the head. It became black all around him, and he went down in a limp heap, while he heard some one crying: "Get up, fellows, Hamilton's hurt!" CHAPTER V DISQUIETING NEWS There was a singing in Dick's ears. He seemed to be on a heaving, rolling sea, and he dimly wondered how he happened to be back on board a boat. Then he felt a dash of water on his face--cold, stinging water,--and he half imagined himself back on the raft with a sea breaking over him. Next he felt some one lifting him to his feet, and he heard the murmur of voices. "That was a nasty blow." "Yes. Who did it?" "Shall we send for the doctor?" "I'm--I'm all right," protested Dick feebly, as he opened his eyes. He came back to earth with a shock, and the boatlike motion suddenly ceased. "I--I----" "Are you sure you're all right?" asked Paul anxiously. Dick put his hand up to his head. A big lump was beginning to form, and was tender to the touch. His head started to ache and hum. "That was my fault," contritely confessed Hal Foster, of the scrub. "I was trying to stop you from making that tackle, when my feet slipped from under me, and shot right at your head, Hamilton. I hope you're not much hurt. I'm awfully sorry." He took hold of Dick's arm in a brotherly fashion. "It's all right--don't mention it old chap. It was no one's fault. I shouldn't have jumped in so quickly. I'm all right again. Come on, we'll finish the game." "No, the time's about up," announced Teddy. "We've had enough for to-day. And it's been better practice than we've had in a long while. I guess we're all anxious to get on Hamilton's team." "Hamilton's team?" asked Sam Porter, in a curious tone. "Since when has it been _his_ eleven?" "Oh, I forgot you hadn't heard the news," went on Teddy. "Why Dick is going to pay for two of the best coaches in the country, and we're going to have a team as _is_ a team. That's why we all played so well to-day, I guess--even the scrub." "Thanks!" exclaimed Tom Coleton. "We'll do you up good and proper to-morrow just the same." "Not with Dick Hamilton's team," cried Teddy with a laugh. "It isn't going to be my team at all," declared Dick, as he supported himself on Paul's shoulder and walked along, after his head had again been bathed in the cold water. "I don't want it known as that. I'm only doing what any fellow would do--putting up some cash to help out. It isn't my team at all."