Christopher Woolf Roe was in a painful predicament. Behind him, urging him on, he felt the hot breath of impending paternal wrath, and knew that if he failed in this, the most important duty his father had ever set him, he would be disgraced; as likely as not he would at no far distant date be cut off with the proverbial shilling. Already his father was growing impatient. The notion that he was having to await the school’s pleasure before securing their obedience was to him exceedingly displeasing. The exemplary patience he had displayed when first the helpfulness of Coles had come before his notice had not proved of an abiding nature. Moreover, the gradual attention of outsiders was being attracted to the school. The scratching of their fixtures for the season had been commented upon, and he felt that unless evidence of the successful nature of his handling of this situation were forthcoming very shortly his dignity would be seriously endangered. Of all this his unhappy son was fully aware, yet he could see before him only the adamant forbearance of a school unanimously resolute, and the keen dislike in which he was personally held was not at all encouraging. Altogether things were rotten.
Coles, however, had certainly been exceptionally decent, and his charm of manner had weighed a good deal with the Head too. There was comfort to be gained from the certainty that Coles knew what 143was what. Coles was a very good fellow. He was very grateful to Coles.
“Leave it to me,” Coles had said, and he had left it to Coles willingly.
Standing in the centre of a small group Coles was striving one afternoon to justify this touching confidence. He had spoken at length. Ultimately he looked round the solemn countenances of those about him to judge the effect of his words. Except upon the faces of his two cronies, who, since they were not prominent footballers, were not of great account, he could not see one hopeful sign. For the rest there was a stiffly decorous silence. At last Saville, who, as one of the only two old colours in Seymour’s, had been leaning gracefully against a wall, raised his voice.
“The point at issue is this,” he announced. “You can’t get away from the fact that the Head has insulted our house by thrusting his son on us like this, and we’re very sore. So far we haven’t even had the face to turn out a house team at footer simply because we were afraid that Roe might want to play. Now some misguided idiot—apparently Seymour himself—has gone to Morley in secret and arranged a challenge which Morley’s have accepted, and after that it’s clearly up to us to play. But we don’t want Roe on the side, and we’re not going to have him.”
“Oh, come,” said Coles, plausibly enough. “Be broad-minded about it. You don’t suppose Roe’s very happy about all this, do you? It isn’t a very jolly position for a fellow. I’ve had a few chats with him, and I can tell you he’d far rather not be here. What’s the use of denying ourselves even house Rugger just to spite him out of a game? What’s wrong with playing for the house? Most of us are nearly eating our hearts out for a game.”
“You haven’t got much to grumble about,” said 144Saville pertly. “You had two games for Morley’s before you came here. And now that I come to think of it, why did you come here? Can you tell us that?”
Coles shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ve never been able to find out. But it’s my personal belief that it was just an idea of the Head’s to break up what he thought was Rouse’s clique.”
“Why didn’t he move Nick, then?”
Coles was unable to reply. He made a little further play with his shoulders.
“I’ll tell you why it was,” said Saville. “It was because, having shoved his confounded son in here, he wanted to build up a strong house side for him to have at his back. And he pounced on you for a start because he thought you might be amenable to reason. A little later on he’ll move someone else in here, so that eventually Rouse will be left with a dud house team, and we in Seymour’s shall have the nucleus of a school Fifteen. He thinks we shall be as pleased as Punch about that and keep on clapping his son on the back every time we see him.”
Coles shook his head.
“I don’t think that for a minute.”
“Well, I do,” opined Betteridge, from a modest position on the outskirts of the group.
Coles turned and looked at him as if pointing him out with his beak-like nose.
“And,” added the interrupter, “so do a good many other people.”
“You’re all making a great mistake,” said Coles. “In years to come you’ll be sorry you mucked your Rugger like this. Personally I was always in favour of Rouse as skipper, and I think that to have brought his own son here was a beastly thing for the Head to have done, and so does Roe himself. But that’s no reason for cutting off your own nose to spite your face. It’s agreed that we don’t lose any dignity by 145indulging in house friendlies, and if we’re going to play a match let’s get out our best side. I believe Roe is a very hot forward, and even if we won’t let him be captain that’s no reason why the poor blighter shouldn’t have a game. He needn’t be skipper.”
“Ah!” said Saville, “that’s just it. He’ll want to be.”
Coles made a sly gesture with his hand.
“You leave it to me. I’ll have a word with him. He’ll quite see your point of view. We’ll fix that up all right.”
“We should like him to come on the field walking a modest distance behind everybody else,” said Betteridge. “That’s what we should like. You might tell him that, will you?”
“You leave that to me,” repeated Coles magnanimously. “He’ll quite see the sense of not forcing himself to the front. And I do think it’d be a pretty rotten exhibition of sportsmanship to tell him he can’t even play on the side at all.”
He paused and looked round them blandly. Nobody responded to his glances; every head had turned instead towards the big clock over the school which was striking the hour, and next moment the group had swiftly dispersed and Coles was left alone looking after them. He was himself in no special hurry. As a matter of fact, he had an appointment with the house master.
At last he slowly pursed his lips and nodded his head.
They would let Roe play. Half the battle had been won.
It was a day to be appreciated, and in token of the fact the whole of Morley’s were ranged along one touch-line and the greater part of Seymour’s along the other, whilst sprinkled here and there in the crowd were representatives of lesser houses expressing 146their opinion on this game in the detached manner of disinterested onlookers. There were also a couple of spare balls being kicked about, and even those who had never the patience to watch houses other than their own playing had come running to the scene at the prospect of getting in a few kicks themselves. After all, in these days good Rugger was rare. Except where Morley’s were concerned, there had not been any great zest in the house friendlies played to date. It had been too evident that these games would not lead to anything.
But a trial of strength between Morley’s and Seymour’s, with the latter strengthened by the inclusion of Coles at the expense of the former, gave promise of being a little out of the ordinary. Besides Rouse was playing on one side, and it was understood that Roe might be discovered upon the other. There was a chance of the two meeting.
“Perhaps,” one young man said hopefully, “perhaps Rouse’ll scrag him.”
There came at last a significant stir along the crowded ropes. The reason was apparent. Morley’s were coming out.
From the stone steps beside the cloisters from which the chosen of Seymour’s would presently appear Coles had stood watching, and now he turned suddenly to those below and nodded to them.
“Morley’s have gone out,” said he. “Are we all here?” There was no immediate answer. He glanced at the young ma............