"Mine!" cried Neil.

Then the leather was against his breast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over opposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along beside.

One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had been run back ten yards.

Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooled Paul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips.
"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills.

"Gale, you were asleep, man; Stone ought never to have got through there.