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A Boy Knight by Martin J.

Gaffney went over to his crowd


"Green

is not your man either. There's just one way to save this game, and that's to get Mulvy."

"Is he here?" fairly yelled the coach.

"No, but there are lots of machines. We could run up to his place in five minutes. He could dress in the car and be here for the next half."

"It's no use, Gaff. He wouldn't come. Don't talk to me. I know boys. After the deal he got yesterday, you couldn't get him here for a million dollars."

"I guess you're right, old man," assented Gaffney.

The first quarter was up with the ball close to Regal's line. The whistle saved further scoring. During the minute's rest it was clear that the Regal team were not dejected, but desperate. For a few seconds they simply looked at one another. The sub handicap was simply too much for them. They knew it was their own doing, and against the coach's advice.

"Here, Green, get in there now, and show the crowd that at least one fellow has grit."

The whistle sounded, the line-up was formed, and again the battle was on. They certainly played football. But they were up against a crowd who also played. The attack and defense continued as before. If Regal could not gain a point, neither could Stanley. On three or four occasions Regal might have scored, with Mulvy playing. They were afraid

to risk anything with Green. They played safe. But that never wins. It may stop the enemy, but it will not bring victory. If the enemy could hold what it had, the game was lost to Regal. The coach saw this. He also saw the solution.

"O, if I only had Mulvy," he roared. He stormed and stamped and said a lot beside his prayers. Gaffney was working like a Trojan. But it was no use. The battle was see-saw. Now Regal, now Stanley. Neither could break through. Again Gaffney came up to the coach. He was exhausted from cheering and from swinging his arms.

"I say, boss, it's all over, unless we get Mulvy."

"Don't talk to me or I'll eat you," snapped the coach. "What's the use of saying Mulvy when we haven't got Mulvy, and can't get him."

"Will you put him in if I get him?"

Just then a yell went up from the Stanley side. A long run brought the ball to within a few feet of Regal's goal, and a score looked certain. The coach was a sight. The veins in his forehead stood out. His eyes were bulging. All of a sudden, the Stanley player dropped the ball, and the Regal captain seized it. That saved that situation. The coach relaxed, but still looked like a house on fire.

Again Gaffney said, "If I get Mulvy will you put him in?"

"Ask me a foolish question, will you? Put him in! I'll shove him in, and poke him down the throats of that gang of quitters out there."

Gaffney went over to his crowd. "We've got to get Mulvy here, fellows," he shouted, "Unless we do, it's good night."

"Well, it's good night, then," remarked Tom Ruggeri, one of the upper class boys. Then he added, "You don't suppose any one would jump into the game after the dose he got yesterday, do you?"


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