A whistle sounded.
Then the ball was put swiftly into play.

Tottenville put up a sturdy resistance against Gridley's left end.
Dave Darrin had the ball, and appeared to be trying to break through the Tottenville line, well backed by Gridley's interference.
Of a sudden there was a subtle, swift pass, and Gridley's left end darted along, almost parallel with the ten-yard line, then made a dashing cut around and past Tottenville.
Two of the home team tackled that left end, but he shook them off.

In another instant----- "Touchdown!" yelled the frantic Gridley boosters.
"Touchdown! Oh, you Darrin! Oh, you Prescott!" Bert Dodge rubbed his eyes.
"Prescott ?" he muttered.
"Blazes, but that is Prescott!" faltered Bayliss, with a sickly grin.
"How did he ever get over here in time to play ?" demanded Bert Dodge.
Herr Schimmelpodt could have told.

The stout, sport-loving old contractor had parted with some of his greenbacks to a chauffeur who had put Dick and himself over the long road to Tottenville.
And the young left end was playing, today, in his finest form!.