The signal came. Into the line came smashing the man with the ball--straight through a hole that had been torn with savage energy between Drew and Watkins. Straight at Dick the man came, Haskell's big guard. Dick tackled him like a tiger, and felt himself being bowled over. A sharp pain shot through his injured ankle, and he knew the bandage had slipped. But he also knew something else, for the ball had bounced from the grasp of the guard and lay within reach of our hero. He pulled himself from underneath the husky guard, though the pain in his foot was excruciating, and like a flash was up. Then, before any one knew what he was doing, he had booted the ball well down the field, though the kick cost him unbearable pain. But he had saved another touchdown against his team, for at that moment the final whistle blew, and the great game was over. CHAPTER XX JOINING THE LEAGUE They had to carry Dick off the field, but there was a happy smile on his face in spite of the terrible pain of his injured ankle. "Only one touchdown and a goal against us, and the best team Haskell could put in the field, fellows!" exulted the plucky captain. "It's almost as good as a victory." "There could be no more honorable defeat," murmured Coach Martin. "I should say not!" exclaimed his colleague. "Our work hasn't gone for nothing." "Let me congratulate you, Captain Hamilton!" cried the captain of Haskell, as he strode up to shake Dick's hand. "We sure thought we would wipe up the earth with you, but--well, we were astonished, to put it mildly." "We'll beat you next time," said Dick simply. "I shouldn't be surprised but what you did," he agreed. "You certainly have improved wonderfully. Where'd you get those coaches?" for the two had walked on in advance. "Oh, they were a sort of an experiment," answered the young millionaire, "but it worked out all right. Kentfield needed some improvement and----" "She's more than got it!" cried the other captain. "Boys, three cheers for the pluckiest team we ever went up against!" he called, and how the cries rang out; bringing joy and a mist of tears to the eyes of our injured hero. "Three cheers for Haskell!" called Dick in return, and the compliment was given. "We'd have scored again but for that plucky tackle of yours, and your kick," said the guard whom Dick had thrown in the nick of time. "Hurt yourself much?" "No, it's only where I twisted my ankle before. I'll be all right in a few days, and ready for more games." The crowd was thronging from the field, as Dick was carried into the dressing room. There some hot applications, and skillful bandaging, put his ankle in such shape that he could manage to get around on a cane that some one provided. "It was great! Great, old man!" cried Paul, circling in delight about his chum. "I never thought we could do it. Did you really think we would win? I hope you're not disappointed."