CHAPTER X.VICTORY AND RETRIBUTION.
And there Fardale held the enemy until it secured the ball on downs, which was something quite unexpected by Rivermouth.
But what could Fardale do? The question was soon answered. Captain Nunn realized it would be a very bad thing to permit Rivermouth to secure the ball again in that immediate neighborhood, and he resolved to see what Dick Merriwell could do in the line of punting. So the ball was snapped back and passed to Dick.
In that most exciting moment the boy seemed cool as a cake of ice. With those Rivermouth fellows tearing their way through to tackle and slam him to the ground, Dick turned the ball till it was just right, dropped it correctly, and kicked it at precisely the proper second. He did not see the result of the kick, for three wolves of the Rivermouth pack came through and slammed him down. He saw stars, though.
The spectators uttered a cry of admiration, for never before had such a beautiful punt been made on that field. Through the air the ball sailed until it wascaught by a Rivermouth player one yard from the center of the field.
Kent had made a fast run down beneath the ball, and he was on hand to bring to earth the right half-back of the home team before the latter had advanced more than six yards.
Exasperated by the success of Fardale, Rivermouth attempted to resume their heavy mass-plays; but now there was a change. The first effort secured no ground. The second made a gain of five yards; but right there Rivermouth stuck.
A double pass was tried, but Fardale discovered the trick and spoiled its effectiveness. Still the home team was confident and refused to kick, whereupon the ball went to Fardale on downs twelve yards from the center of the field.
By this time Captain Nunn realized that something out of the ordinary must happen to save the day. Rivermouth had a lead of four points, and she had kept Fardale fighting on the wrong side of the field fully nine-tenths of the time during this half.
In his heart, Jabez Lynch had one satisfaction, for he felt that Fardale had no show of winning. Like Zeb Fletcher, however, he was angry because Merriwell had found so many opportunities to make brilliant plays. Unlike Fletcher, he did not leave the field.
Having secured the ball, Fardale smashed into Rivermouth with such sudden energy that a clean gain of seven yards was made. Still the ball remained in Fardale territory.
But now came a clever piece of passing and a fake assault on the center of Rivermouth’s line. Apparently Nunn had the ball, but he passed it behind him to Merriwell, who slipped like a flash round the home team’s right end and was off. The trick was discovered quickly, and after Dick started the whole pack.
Newton had been playing back of the line, and he bothered Dick, who dodged first one way and then the other in the attempt to get past. Then Dick made a daring dash, saw Nelson leap outstretched, felt his touch, but sped on.
Only one man remained between Dick and the Rivermouth goal. That was Hurting, who had been playing back in case Fardale attempted a surprise kick.
Hurting cut in on Dick, forcing him toward the center of the field. But it was seen that Merriwell stood a fair show of getting past the full-back. This Dick accomplished and Fardale rose to roar, when something happened.
Dick never knew what his foot struck, but he slipped and went down like a flash. Up he sprang, but, before he could get under way again, Hurting had reachedhim and he was flung full length, eighteen yards from the desired goal. Those who knew how near the end of the game was drawing said Fardale had lost her last chance.
When Dick arose he found he had turned his ankle, which pained him sharply; but he set his teeth and said not a word.
The home team was desperate when it lined up so near its own goal, and the attacks of the cadets were utterly lacking in strength to make a gain. Captain Nunn believed the only chance was to get through for a touch-down, and his persistence resulted in the loss of the ball after the limit in efforts had been reached.
Rivermouth started right in to bear Fardale back. The first rush gained more than five yards. Then the ball went round the end for five more.
And then happened another lucky thing for Fardale. On her thirty-yard line Rivermouth fumbled, and Kane came through and got the ball.
"It’s all right, fellows," said Captain Rogers. "There is only about one minute more of play, and they can’t score."
Rogers had been tipped to the time. His words were heard by the keen ears of Dick Merriwell, who instantly appealed to Nunn for the privilege of trying to kick a goal.
"It can’t be done from this angle," said Steve.
"It’s our only chance," declared Dick. "If you won’t let me try it, for Heaven’s sake let somebody else!"
Steve gave in.
"Get ready," he said.
Rivermouth divined at once what Fardale meant to do, and she laughed aloud.
"Not once in a hundred times!" she said.
Two lines of tired, dirty, dogged fellows crouched with their noses together. Then the ball was snapped and passed to Dick.
Just long enough the line held the rushers. The boy again was cool as possible, and again he kicked barely in time to get the ball off before he was slammed down.
"It’s a miss!" yelled many.
But Dick had taken the wind into account, and the breeze caught the huge yellow egg, veered it surely and swiftly, so that the ball passed over the bar.
The goal was made, and less than thirty seconds later the whistle blew. Fardale had won in the last minute of the game by this goal from the field, the score being 11 to 10.
The diagram on the opposite page shows how the plays of the second half were made:
Football Play
In the midst of the cheering came a sudden cry:
"Fire! fire! Gideon’s barn is afire!"
Smoke was seen issuing from one of the broken, upper windows of the old barn.
"Our clothes are in there, boys!" shouted Steve Nunn, as he started on a run for the barn. Others followed him, and one ran faster, soon overtaking and passing Steve. It was Dick Merriwell.
As Dick approached the barn, a screaming, smoking figure came rushing from the door, waving its arms in the air and shrieking for help. It was Zeb Fletcher, who had retired to the haymow of the old barn to have a smoke and fallen asleep while puffing at a cigarette. He awoke to find himself and the haymow in flames.
Dick Merriwell ran to the fellow, caught him, flung him down, and rolled him over and over, beating the fire with his bare hands, at the same time shouting to Nunn:
"Bring a blanket from the barn! Quick! The poor fellow is burning to death!"
Steve rushed into the burning barn and came out with a blanket, and together they smothered the fire that was eating Fletcher’s clothes. But Zeb had been burned severely, and he groaned and moaned and prayed in a pitiful manner.
"I’m dying!" he screamed, in agony. "Oh, dear! It’s punishment! it’s punishment!"
He looked at Dick in horror, and in the eyes of the boy he hated he saw nothing but sympathy and pity.
"Don’t!" he moaned; "don’t look at me that way! Hate me! You would if you knew! I tried to hurt you every way! I tried to——"
"Never mind that now," said Dick, kneeling beside the unfortunate wretch. "You haven’t hurt me. They’re bringing a doctor. You’ll be all right when he has cared for you."
"I’m going to die!" persisted Zeb. "I know it! Oh. the pain! I can’t bear it! I tried to make you out a thief, and—your handkerchief——"
"Do you mean this one?" asked Professor Gunn, who had arrived on the scene, taking from his pocket the handkerchief he had found in his room, having on one corner the letters, "R. M."
"Yes!" gasped Zeb. "That’s it. I——"
"Here’s the doctor," said Dick Merriwell gently. "For Heaven’s sake, doctor, do something for the poor fellow. It’s awful to have him in such pain!"
The doctor made a hasty examination of Fletcher’s burns, soon applying something to soothe the pain.
"We must remove him to the village at once," he said. "Wrap him in that blanket so the air will not strike his wounds. I’ll attend to him as soon as we can get him to my house."
"Are his burns dangerous, doctor?" asked Dick Merriwell, speaking so that Zeb could not hear.
"Not necessarily so," was the answer, "though he’ll carry the marks for life if he recovers."
"Poor fellow!" said Dick, once more. "I’m sorry for him!"
Then it was that Professor Gunn put an arm across Dick’s shoulders and gave the boy a genuine embrace of affection.
"I want you to forgive me!" he said earnestly.
"You?" gasped Dick. "What for?"
"For being an old fool!" said the professor. "I’ll explain later."