They would be sorrow-stricken if
Latham won! A feeling of indignation came to Thor. How dare those fellows
think they could beat old Bannister! Why,
he would go out there and show
them a few things!
Head Coach Corridan, let it be chronicled, was paralyzed when he ducked
under the side-line rope--stretched to hold the spectators back--to collide
with an immovable body, John Thorwald, and to behold an eager light on that
behemoth's stolid face. Grasping the Slave-Driver in a grip that hurt, Thor
boomed:
"Mr. Corridan, let me play,
please! Send me out this half. We can win.
We've
got to win! I want to do something for old Bannister. Why, if we
lose today, we lose the Championship! I don't understand things yet, but I
do love the college. I want to fight for Bannister. Please let me play!"
The astonished coach and the equally dazed Gold and Green eleven, with the
bewildered collegians who heard Thor's earnest appeal, were silent a few
moments, unable to grasp the truth. Then Captain Brewster, his face aglow,
seized the big Freshman's arm excitedly.
"Sure you'll play, Thor!" he shouted. "Fullback, old man! Come on, team.
Thor's awake! He wants to fight for his Alma Mater; he wants Bannister to
win! Oh, watch us shove Latham off the field--everybody together now--the
yell, for Thor!"
"Right here," grinned an excitedly happy T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., when the
yell was given, "is where a team that won't be beat gets licked by a chap
what can lick 'em!"
What took place when the blond Prodigious Prodigy lumbered on Bannister
Field at the start of the last half of the Bannister-Latham game can be
imagined by the final score-board figures:
BANNISTER .
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