The back did his best, and sacrificed himself nobly for his side, but he was no match for the Fellsgarth giant, who simply rode over him, and followed by a mighty roar of cheering from the onlookers, carried the ball behind the goals, touching it down with almost fastidious precision exactly half-way between the poles.
A minute later and Yorke, with one of his beautifully neat "places," had sent the ball spinning over the bar, as unmistakable a goal as the School had ever kicked.
The cheers which followed this exploit were completely lost on Rollitt, who, having completed his run, dawdled back to his fellow-forwards, and had not even the curiosity to watch the issue of the captain's kick.
As the sides changed ends, Dangle, with a black face, came up to him.
"You knocked me over on purpose then, you cad, I could see it!" snarled he.
"Get out!" said Rollitt, shouldering the speaker aside.
This was too much for Dangle.

Full of rage, he went to Yorke.
"I don't mean to stand this, Yorke.

Rollitt--" "Shut up!" said the captain.

"Spread out, you fellows, and be ready.
Go to your place, Dangle." Dangle sullenly obeyed.
"I'll let you see if I'm to be insulted and made a fool of before all the school," growled he.

"Catch me bothering myself any more." As if to give him an opportunity of enforcing his protest, the kick-off of the losing side fell close at his feet.