The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

  THE MATCH AGAINST THE COUNTY.

  The boys, astounded and bewildered by this unexpected revelation, slowlyrose to obey the Doctor's order, leaving Loman alone with the headmaster.

  The boy was ashy pale as Dr Senior turned to him and said, solemnly--

  "How do you account for this, Loman?"

  Loman lowered his eyes and made no reply.

  "Answer me please, Loman. Can you account for this?"

  "No."

  "Did you ever see this paper before?"

  "No."

  "Do you know how it came into your Juvenal?"

  "No."

  "Did you know anything at all about the lost paper?"

  "No."

  The Doctor looked long and searchingly at him as he said once more--

  "Loman, are you sure you are telling me the truth? You know nothingwhatever about the paper--never saw it before this moment?"

  "No."

  "You knew the paper had been missed off my desk?"

  "Yes."

  "Had you the least reason for believing any boy took it?"

  Loman hesitated.

  "I would rather not say," he said at last.

  "You must please answer me frankly, Loman. Had you any reason, I ask,for believing any boy took the paper?"

  "Must I say?" asked Loman.

  "Yes--you must."

  "Well, then, I did fancy some one had taken it."

  "Who?"

  "Greenfield senior," said Loman, flushing quickly as he said the name.

  "And what made you suspect Greenfield senior?"

  "All the boys suspected him."

  "That is not an answer, Loman. Why?"

  "Because, for one thing," said Loman, sullenly, "he was seen coming outof your study that evening."

  "And why else?"

  "Because he came out so high in the exam."

  "And for these reasons you suspected Greenfield of taking the paper?Why did you not mention the matter to me?"

  Loman did his best to look virtuous.

  "I did not wish to get any one into trouble."

  "And you preferred to let an affair like this go on without taking anysteps to have it cleared up? Did Greenfield deny the charge?"

  "No."

  "Did he admit it?"

  "Very nearly. He wouldn't speak to any one for months."

  "And you really believe that Greenfield took the paper?"

  Loman looked up at the Doctor for a moment and answered, "Yes."

  "Did you lend him your Juvenal at any time?"

  "Not that I remember."

  "Do you suppose he put the paper in the book?"

  "I couldn't say; but I don't see who else could."

  "That will do, Loman; you can go. Kindly leave the paper and theJuvenal with me."

  Loman turned to go, but the Doctor stopped him with one more question.

  "You know, I suppose, that the questions which you actually had set forthe Nightingale examination were quite different from those on thepaper?"

  "Yes," said Loman. "I mean--that is," he added, stammering, and takingup the paper in question. "I see by this paper they were quitedifferent."

  "Yes; you can go now, Loman."

  There was something so solemn and hard in the head master's voice as hedismissed the boy that Loman felt very uncomfortable as he slowlydeparted to his own study.

  _He_, at any rate, was in no humour for enjoying the big football matchwhich was just beginning.

  And it must be confessed the event of the morning had had the effect ofdisconcerting a good many more than himself. Stansfield had quite hardwork going round among his troops and rousing them once more to theproper pitch of enthusiasm.

  "What--whatever does it matter," he said, "if the fellow did take it?_You_ didn't take it, Winter, or you, Wren; and what on earth's the useof getting down in the mouth, and perhaps losing the match, because ofit? We're always having our football spoiled by something or other," headded with a groan. "I'll tell you what it is, let's only lick thesefellows this afternoon, and then I'll howl and groan and do anything youlike, for a week."

  There was no resisting such a generous offer. The fellows made up theirminds to forget everything else that afternoon but the County, and so toplay that the County should have some difficulty in soon forgettingthem.

  "Fire away, you fellows, and peel!" cried Stansfield, as Oliver andWraysford sauntered past.

  They fired away. But while dressing they exchanged a few words on theforbidden subject.

  "Did you ever expect it would be brought home to Loman like this, Noll?"asked Wray.

  "No, I didn't. And yet in a way--"

  "Eh? What do you say?"

  "Why, Wray, you remember me saying that evening, after I left the study,the only fellow I met in the passage besides Simon was Loman?"

  "Yes; so you did."

  "He was going towards the Doctor's study," said Oliver.

  "Hum! I remember now you said so."

  "And yet," continued Oliver, plunging into his jersey--"and yet I can'tsee how, if he did take the paper, he didn't do better in the exam. Hecame out so very low."

  "Yes, that's queer, unless he took a fit of repentance all of a sudden,and didn't look at it."

  "Then it's queer he didn't destroy it, instead of sticking it in hisJuvenal."

  "Well, I suppose the Doctor will clear it up, now he's on the scent."

  "I suppose so," said Oliver; "but, I say, old man," he added, "of coursethere's no need for us to say anything about it to anybody. The poorbeggar doesn't want _our_ help to get him into trouble."

  "No, indeed. I'd be as glad, quite, if it were found to be anotherwrong scent, after all," said Wraysford. "The fellow's in a bad enoughway as it is."

  "Are you nearly ready, you two?" thundered Stansfield at the door.

  "Just ready!" they exclaimed; and in another minute they, too, haddismissed from their minds everything but Saint Dominic's versus County,as they trotted off to join the rest of their comrades on the field ofbattle.

  And, indeed, for the next two hours there was no opportunity, even, hadthey desired it, for any one to think of anything but this momentousstruggle.

  For three years running the County had beaten the schoolboys, each timeworse than before, until at last the latter had got to be afraid theothers would begin to think them foemen not worthy of their steel. Thisyear they hardly dared hope a better fate than before, for the enemywere down in force. Yet the boys had determined to die hard, and atleast give their adversaries all the trouble they could before theirgoal should fall; and of this they were all the more sanguine, becausetheir team was the very best the school could muster, and not a manamong them but knew his business, and could be depended on to do it too.

  Bad luck! Of course, just when it's not wanted there's a breeze got up,blowing right down the field, and in the very teeth of the schoolboys,who have lost the toss, and have to play from the oak-tree end for thefirst half of the game!

  "It's always the way," growls Ricketts. "They'll simply eat us up whilethey've got the chance, you see!"

  "No they won't," says Stansfield, bound to take a cheerful view ofthings. "We're strong in backs. It's not like last match, whenGreenfield wasn't playing, and Loman was there to make such a mess ofit."

  "Well, it's a comfort, that, anyhow."

  "Of course it is," says the captain. "What you fellows have got to dois to keep the ball in close, and nurse it along all the while, or elserun--but you'd better let the quarter-backs do that."

  This sage advice is not thrown away on the worthies who lead the van forSaint Dominic's, and an opportunity for putting it into practice occursthe moment the game begins. For the School has to kick-off, and tokick-off against that wind is a hopeless business. Stansfield does notattempt anything like a big kick, but just drives the ball hard and lowon to the legs of the County forwards, sending his own men close afterit, so that a scrimmage is formed
almost at the very spot where the ballgrounds.

  "Now, School, sit on it! Do you hear?" calls out the captain; andcertainly it looks as if that unhappy ball were never destined to seethe light again. The enemy's forwards cannot get it out from among thefeet of the School forwards, try all they will, until, by sheer weight,they simply force it through. And then, when it does go through, thereis young Forrester of the Fourth ready for it, and next moment it isback in its old place in the middle of the "mush." In due time, out itcomes again--this time on Wren's side--and once again, after a shortrun, there it is again, on almost the identical spot of earth where ithas undergone its last two poundings.

  "Played up, Dominies!" cries out Stansfield, cheerily. "Stick to itnow!"

  Stick to it they do, with the wind fresh on their faces, and the Countyfellows charging and plunging and shoving like fury upon them.

  Ah! there goes the ball, out at the County end for a wonder. Thespectators cheer loudly for the schoolboys. Little they know! It hadmuch better have stayed there among their feet than roll out into theopen. The County quarter-back has it in his hands in a twinkling, andin another twinkling he has lifted it with a drop-kick high into theair, all along the wind, which carries it, amid cheers and shouts, rightup to the boundary of the School goal.

  So much for cutting through the scrimmage!

  Wraysford, the Dominican "back," is ready for it when it drops, and,without touching-down, runs out with it. He is a cautious fellow, isWraysford, and does not often try this game. But the ball has faroutstripped the enemy's forwards, and so he has a pretty open field.But not for long. In a _few_ seconds the County is upon him, and he andthe ball are no longer visible. Then follow a lot more scrimmages, withsimilar results. It is awfully slow for the spectators, but Stansfieldrejoices over it, and the County men chafe.

  "Can't you let it out there? Play looser, and let it through," saystheir captain.

  Loose it is.

  "That's better!" says the County captain, as presently the ball comesout with a bound full into the quarter-back's hands, who holds it, and,to the horror of the boys, makes his mark before he can be collared.

  The scrimmage has been near up to the Dominican goal--within a kick--andnow, as the schoolboys look round first at the goal and then at theCounty man with the ball, the distance looks painfully small. And evenif it were greater, this wind would do the business.

  The County man takes plenty of room back from his mark, up to which theSchool forwards stand ready for one desperate rush the moment the balltouches the ground. Alas, it is no go! They have a knowing hand and aquick foot to deal with. Before they can cover the few yards whichdivide them, the ball is dropped beautifully, and flies, straight as anarrow, over the cross-bar, amid the tremendous cheers of the County menand their friends.

  "Never mind!" says Stansfield, as his men walk out once more to thefray, "they shan't get another before half-time!"

  Won't they? Such is the perversity of that creature people call Luck,and such is the hatred it has for anything like a boast, that twominutes--only two minutes--after the words are out of the captain'smouth another Dominican goal has fallen.

  For Stansfield in kicking off gets his foot too much under the ball,which consequently rises against the wind and presents an easy catch toany one who comes out to take it. A County forward sees his chance.Rushing up, he catches the ball, and instantaneously, so it seems,drop-kicks it, a tremendous kick clean over the School goal, before eventhe players have all taken up their places after the last catastrophe.

  This is dreadful! worse than ever! Never in their worst days had such athing happened. For once in a way Stansfield's hopefulness deserts him,and he feels the School is in for an out-and-out hiding.

  The captain would like extremely to blow some one up, if he only knewwhom. It is so aggravating sometimes to have no one to blow-up.Nothing relieves the feelings so, does it?

  However, Stansfield has to bottle up his feelings, and, behold! oncemore he and his men are in battle array.

  This time it's steady all again, and the ball is kept well out of sight.It can't even slip out behind now, as before; for the Schoolquarter-backs are up to that dodge, and ready to pounce upon it beforeit can be lifted or sent flying. Indeed, the only chance the wretchedball has of seeing daylight is--

  Hullo! half-time!

  The announcement falls on joyful ears among the Dominicans. They haveworked hard and patiently against heavy odds; and they feel they reallydeserve this respite.

  Now, at last, if the wind wouldn't change for them, they have changedover to the wind, which blows no longer in their faces, but gratefullyon to their backs.

  The kick-off is a positive luxury under such circumstances; Stansfieldneedn't be afraid of skying the ball now, and he isn't. It shoots upwith a prodigious swoop and soars right away to touch-line, so that theCounty's "back" is the first of their men to go into action. He bringsthe ball back deftly and prettily, slipping in and out among his ownmen, who get beside him as a sort of bodyguard, ready at any moment tocarry on the ball. It is ludicrous to see Ricketts and Winter andCallonby flounder about after him. The fellow is like an eel. Onemoment you have him, the next he's away; now you're sure of him, nowhe's out of all reach. Ah! Stansfield's got him at last! No hehasn't; but Winter has--No, Winter has lost him; and--just look--he'spast all the School forwards, no one can say how.

  Young Forrester tackles him gamely--but young Forrester is no hand ateel-catching; in fact, the eel catches Forrester, and leaves himgracefully on his back. Past the quarter-backs! The man has a charmedlife!

  Ah! Greenfield has got him at last. Yes, Mr Eel, you may wriggle ashard as you like, but you'd hardly find your way out of that gripwithout leave!

  Altogether this is a fine run, and makes the School see that even withthe wind they are not going to have it all their own way. However, theywarm up wonderfully after this.

  Steady is still the word (what grand play we should get if it werealways the word at football, you schoolboys! You may kick and run andscrimmage splendidly, but you are not steady--but this is digression).Steady is still the word, and _every_ minute Saint Dominic's pullsbetter together. The forwards work like one man, and, lighter weightthough they are, command the scrimmages by reason of their good"packing."

  Wren and young Forrester, the quarter-backs, are "dead on" the ball themoment it peeps out from the scrimmage; and behind them at half-backOliver and Bullinger are not missing a chance. If they did, Wraysfordis behind them, a prince of "backs."

  Oh, for a chance to put this fine machinery into motion! Time isflying, and the umpire is already fidgeting with his watch. Oh, for onechance! And while we speak here it comes. A County man has just dartedup along the touch-line half the length of the field. Wren goes out tomeet him, and behind Wren--too close behind--advances Oliver. TheCounty man thinks twice before delivering himself up into the clutchesof one of these heroes, and ends his run with a kick, which, Oliverbeing not in his place, Wraysford runs forward to take. Now Wraysfordhas hardly had a run this afternoon. He means to have one now! And hedoes have one. He takes the ball flying, gives one hurried look round,and then makes right for the thick of the fray. Who backs him up?Greenfield for one, and all the rest of Saint Dominic's for the other.

  "Stick close!" he says to Oliver, as he flies past. Oliver wants nobidding. He follows his man like a shadow. In and out among theforwards, and round about past the quarter-backs; and when at lastWraysford is borne down by a combined force of half andthree-quarter-backs, Greenfield is there to take the ball on.

  "Look-out there!" cries the County captain, "mark that man." The Countydoes mark that man, and they have the painful task of marking him passone half-back and floor another before he is arrested.

  "I'm here!" cries Wraysford's voice at that moment; and next instant theball is again hurrying on towards the County goal in Wraysford's arms,Greenfield once more being in close attendance.

 
And now the County backs come into action, and the first of them collarsWraysford. But it is Oliver who collars the ball, and amid the shouts,and howls, and cheers of players and spectators rushes it still onward.The second "back" is the County's only remaining hope, nor surely willhe fail. He rushes at Oliver. Oliver rushes at him. Wraysford, oncemore on his feet, rushes on them both.

  "Look-out for the ball there!" is the panic cry of the County. Ay, lookindeed! Oliver is down, but Wraysford has it, and walks with it merrilyover the County's goal-line, and deposits it on the ground in the exactcentre of the posts.

  "There never was such a rush-up, or such a pretty piece of double play,"say the knowing ones among the onlookers; and when a minute later theball is brought out, and Stansfield kicks it beautifully over the goal,every one says that it is one of the best-earned goals that old meadowhas ever seen kicked, and that Saint Dominic's, though beaten, hasnothing in that day's performance to be ashamed of.