Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 124: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

598 The roar from the State side was deafen- ing. Shortly after the half ended. From. the Holwood stands came the usual songs and yells of encouragement. The rooters were fearful, yet by no means downhearted. They had faith, and chanted it fiercely during the rest period. It was among the players that hopeless- ness was felt. ‘They were all being used up by the viciousness of the State men. It was a killing pace. Scraggin’s bad shoulder was bothering him so much it was impossible for him to go back in.. Habisch was red, black, and blue, and in no condition to play another minute. It was a dispirited team that lis- tened to Coach Flanagan’s frenzied appeals, instructions, and curses. As the coach paused, for lack of words, up stepped Apollo Ferris, a strange, grim Apollo, who said in a peculiar voice: “I don’t guess you have a very good opinion of my playing coach—” Flanagan interrupted harshly: “ I’ve got no time to listen to handsome heroes now,” and started to turn away. Ferris grabbed his arm, and said, in a Aow, imperious voice, looking at the coach in a manner that made him pause: “‘ You’re going to listen to me now, see? I want to get in this game. This is the last game I'll ever have a chance to play in, and I’m going to justify myself as regards certain remarks that have been made about me.” He glanced around the group of silent, solemn men, allowing his gaze to rest meaningly on Merrick, which worthy leered in his characteristic way. The coach turned from Ferris without answering, and gave the team final admoni- tions, half encouragement, half threats. They stalked out grimly, Yelverton in Scraggin’s place, who was in the hands of the surgeon. Ferris noticed this and remained silent; he was determined to go in, and he bided his time. State received and Kilhardt, their half, -who was responsible for most of the long gains, raced back to his thirty-five yard line before he was thrown by Yelverton. At once State began its vigorous, dashing tactics, which Holwood could not repulse. » ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Yelverton was amply filling Scraggin’s place at left half, and Gorman and Car- digan fought hard, both sturdy men and resolute. Habisch was playing a valiant game, but it was the last struggle of the de- feated. The repeated pointed onslaughts of those orange jacketed demons were wearing him down. On his attempts with the ball they poured over him in spite of splendid inter- ference, and all his speed and skill could. not elude those fierce grapplers. Gorman and Cardigan fared little better, but Hol- wood was spared undue punishment from tackling. It was State that carried the game into enemy territory, and with a vengeance. In a sort of blood lust they tore into the blue with brutal frenzy. Down, down, down the field they rushed the ball, Nagle skirting the ends, and Kilhardt ripping the line. and tackles to shreds. They were ir- resistible. Continual cheers soared from their stands, and a heavy silence hung over the Holwood side, which even the half-hearted efforts of the cheer leaders couldn’t lift. They’saw their hero brought violently down at his few feeble efforts, and they watched the bloodthirsty hordes rush over him. But it was the men on the side lines who realized the despair of those eleven fighting players, borne down in a losing battle. Twice Ferris started to speak to the coach, but that hard face checked him. A cheer of relief went up from Holwood when their warriors turned back the tide once again, this time on the five-yard line. Cardigan fell back to kick, and a short pass to Gorman sent him spinning through tackle. He was brought down heavily after two yards. Again Cardigan fell back, standing on his goal line. Again a short pass, and Habisch romped off end. He eluded the . inrushing end, the tackle was pinned in by a desperate interference, and Habisch ran five yards before the fullback plunged at him. Habisch pulled aside and picked up his stride as the half charged into him; this time he struggled at his old shift and half freed those clutching hands, when Kilhardt, > COPMIEL OO KS (E@)