Back swept the ball from between Best’s wide-set feet, back to Kendall at head-height. Up went his hands, out swung a leg and then, with the ball tucked in the crook of his left elbow, he was plunging across the field to his left, while shrieks and cries filled the air. It was the play that had won the Nordham game, a simple run from kick formation, a play easy to stop if expected, but likely to gain if not. And in this case Broadwood had looked for a kick, reasoning that Yardley had given up all idea of trying to win by rushing, that in the few seconds remaining she would try to mitigate her defeat by securing the three points that a goal from field would yield her. And Broadwood was napping on the right of her line. The brilliant Thurston who had made himself feared all through the game, who had spoiled more than one attempt at his end of the line, had crept in and up, desperately determined to get inside of the Yardley end and spoil the kick. It was Broadwood’s right half-back, Reid, who first scented the danger and started to intercept Kendall. Saunders pounded behind him. But the Yardley interference was well formed, well spaced and desperate. Reid went down with Holmes, and Greene blocked Saunders. At that instant Kendall turned in and leaped toward the goal-line, his right elbow locked and his arm stretched out to meet the foe. Six white lines lay between him and the goal. He crossed two in safety, Greene speeding beside him. Then the enemy swept upon him. Greene threw himself in the path of a frantic foe and went down, and Kendall ran alone.