The Cock-House at Fellsgarth Part 29

They had taken their course, however, and must go on.

"I suppose none of our side will go on the omnibus," said Brinkman.

"Why not?" said Clapperton. "It will do them good to have spectators.

I shall go; not that I care about it, but just to a.s.sert my rights."

"Hurrah for self-sacrifice!" said Fullerton. "If your principles will allow you to take chicken and tongue sandwiches with you, I'll go too."

"It's ten to one they'll try to prevent our going," said Dangle; "I hope they'll try."

When the two coaches drove up to carry the fifteen and the prefects and other privileged boys to the scene of conflict, a good deal of surprise was evinced at the appearance of Clapperton, Brinkman, Dangle, and Fullerton, in ordinary costume, and without bags, ready to accompany the party.

Contrary to their expectations and hopes, no protest was made, and, as far as the Cla.s.sic seniors were concerned, no notice was vouchsafed them. This was annoying, particularly as the juniors present took care to call attention to their presence.

"Look at 'em," cried Wally; "don't they look clever?"

"Kicked out of the team--serve 'em right!" shouted Ashby.

"Who's kicked out?" retorted the Modern f.a.gs. "It would take better chaps than you to kick them out."

"Don't you wish you could kick them in? They know better," retorted Percy and Co.

Amid such embarra.s.sing comments, the four Modern heroes mounted to their places.

The cheers of their adherents hardly made up for the chilly welcome of their travelling companions. Yorke, seeing Clapperton looking for a place, politely moved up to make room, and then turned his back and talked to Ranger. The other three were similarly cut off, Dangle finding himself in between Fisher major and Denton, who talked across him. Brinkman, on another coach, was tucked in among some rowdy Cla.s.sic middle-boys who were discussing the "strike" very vigorously among themselves. As for Fullerton, he was lucky enough to get the seat beside the driver, where, at any rate, he could count on one sympathetic soul into whose ears to pour his occasional words of wisdom.

Just as the first coach was starting, a shout was heard from across the Green, and Corder, the Modern boy whose services were declined on the previous occasion, equipped in an ulster and with his bag in his hand, appeared signalling for the _cortege_ to wait.

"Well! what is it?" demanded Dangle.

"Is Yorke there? Yorke, can I play to-day?"

"No, you can't," said Dangle in a menacing undertone. "None of us are playing; you know that."

"I don't see why I mayn't play if I have the chance," said Corder. "I awfully want to play in the fifteen."

"We're a man short," said Yorke. "You can play, Corder."

"If you dare to come and play," said Dangle, still in a whisper, "you'll find it so precious hot for yourself afterwards that you'll be sorry for it."

"Yorke says I may play," persisted Corder; "I don't see why I shouldn't."

"Cad! traitor! blackleg!" yelled Percy and Co., as they saw their man mount the coach.

"Ha, ha! got _one_ man among you who isn't a coward and a sneak, and-- and a howling kid!" retorted Wally. "Gee up!" Whereat the whips cracked and the happy party drove off.

Corder was one of those obtuse youths who can never take in more than one idea at a time. His present idea was football. He had come up this term with a consuming ambition to get into the fifteen, and had played hard and desperately to secure his end. Last week, when Brinkman was obliged to retire, he thought his chance was come, and great was his mortification when he found that his nomination was not accepted by the captain. Still he didn't despair. When he saw the vacancies caused in the team by the defection of the Moderns, his hopes rose again; but once more they were dashed by the captain's announcement of a fifteen made up wholly of Cla.s.sics.

To-day he had not had the heart to come out and see the coaches start, and was moping in his own room, when some one brought in word that Rollitt was not going to play after all, and that the team was setting out a man short.

Whereupon Corder dashed into his ulster, flung his flannels into his bag, and tore out of his house just in time to secure for himself the long-coveted honour, and find himself in the glorious position of "playing for the School."

How was such a fellow likely to trouble his head about strikes, and protests, and organised desertion?

Fortunately for the comfort of his journey, he had to pack himself away on the floor between the feet of Ridgway and another of the team, who, if they kicked him at all, only did it by accident or by way of encouragement, and not as Dangle or Brinkman might have done, in spite.

The rain was coming down pretty steadily by the time the party got to their destination, and the gloom on the brows of the four Modern prefects deepened as they looked up and speculated on the delights of standing for an hour on the wet gra.s.s watching their rivals play.

"Dangle," said Clapperton, "we must stop that cad Corder's playing at all cost. It will upset everything. Come and talk to him."

But Corder, perhaps with an inkling of what was in store for him, had entrenched himself behind a number of other players, and in close proximity to Ranger, who had evidently told himself off to see that the last recruit of the fifteen was not tampered with.

The signals of the two seniors were studiously not observed, and when Dangle, getting desperate, said--

"Corder, half a minute; Clapperton wants you." Ranger interposed with--

"Come on, you fellows, it's time we got into our flannels," and effectually checkmated the manoeuvre.

"If he doesn't get paid out for this," growled Clapperton, "I'm precious mistaken."

"Yes; and the other fellows must see that he is. If this sort of thing spreads, we may as well cave in at once."

The Rendlesham fellows hovered about under shelter till the last moment, grumbling at the weather, the gra.s.s, and the dock. At length the Fellsgarth boys put in an appearance; sides were solemnly tossed for, and the order to "spread out" was given.

"Hullo!" said one of the Rendlesham men as he pa.s.sed Clapperton and Dangle, "why aren't you playing? Afraid of the cold?"

"No, we scratched because--"

"Have you got that big man down who was so hot in the scrimmages? I forget his name. _He's_ not one of the delicate ones, I fancy."

"No more are we; we're not playing because--"

"Hullo! they're waiting," said the player, and went off, leaving the explanation still unfinished.

One of the last to run out was Corder.

"You young cad," growled Clapperton as he pa.s.sed; "take my advice and don't play, unless--"

"Come on, Corder--waiting," shouted Yorke.

Corder obeyed like lightning.

The match began disastrously for Fellsgarth. Within five minutes of the kick-off, a run up by one of the Rendlesham quarter-backs carried the ball right into the School lines, and a touch-down resulted. On a fine day like last Sat.u.r.day a goal would have been certain, but on the wet gra.s.s, the try did not come off. But five minutes later, a drop-kick from the middle of the field by the Rendlesham captain secured a magnificent goal for the home team.

Clapperton sneered.

"What I expected," said he. "They'll be lucky if they don't lose a dozen."