The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"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 the Juvenal 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 for the Nightingale examination were quite different from those on the paper?"
"Yes," said Loman. "I mean--that is," he added, stammering, and taking up the paper in question. "I see by this paper they were quite different."
"Yes; you can go now, Loman."
There was something so solemn and hard in the head master's voice as he dismissed the boy that Loman felt very uncomfortable as he slowly departed to his own study.
_He_, at any rate, was in no humour for enjoying the big football match which was just beginning.
And it must be confessed the event of the morning had had the effect of disconcerting a good many more than himself. Stansfield had quite hard work going round among his troops and rousing them once more to the proper 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 use of getting down in the mouth, and perhaps losing the match, because of it? We're always having our football spoiled by something or other," he added with a groan. "I'll tell you what it is, let's only lick these fellows this afternoon, and then I'll howl and groan and do anything you like, for a week."
There was no resisting such a generous offer. The fellows made up their minds to forget everything else that afternoon but the County, and so to play that the County should have some difficulty in soon forgetting them.
"Fire away, you fellows, and peel!" cried Stansfield, as Oliver and Wraysford sauntered past.
They fired away. But while dressing they exchanged a few words on the forbidden 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 pa.s.sage 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't see how, if he did take the paper, he didn't do better in the exam. He came 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 his Juvenal."
"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 course there's no need for us to say anything about it to anybody. The poor beggar doesn't want _our_ help to get him into trouble."
"No, indeed. I'd be as glad, quite, if it were found to be another wrong scent, after all," said Wraysford. "The fellow's in a bad enough way as it is."
"Are you nearly ready, you two?" thundered Stansfield at the door.
"Just ready!" they exclaimed; and in another minute they, too, had dismissed from their minds everything but Saint Dominic's versus County, as they trotted off to join the rest of their comrades on the field of battle.
And, indeed, for the next two hours there was no opportunity, even, had they desired it, for any one to think of anything but this momentous struggle.
For three years running the County had beaten the schoolboys, each time worse than before, until at last the latter had got to be afraid the others would begin to think them foemen not worthy of their steel. This year they hardly dared hope a better fate than before, for the enemy were down in force. Yet the boys had determined to die hard, and at least give their adversaries all the trouble they could before their goal should fall; and of this they were all the more sanguine, because their team was the very best the school could muster, and not a man among 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 the first half of the game!
"It's always the way," growls Ricketts. "They'll simply eat us up while they've got the chance, you see!"
"No they won't," says Stansfield, bound to take a cheerful view of things. "We're strong in backs. It's not like last match, when Greenfield wasn't playing, and Loman was there to make such a mess of it."
"Well, it's a comfort, that, anyhow."
"Of course it is," says the captain. "What you fellows have got to do is to keep the ball in close, and nurse it along all the while, or else run--but you'd better let the quarter-backs do that."
This sage advice is not thrown away on the worthies who lead the van for Saint Dominic's, and an opportunity for putting it into practice occurs the moment the game begins. For the School has to kick-off, and to kick-off against that wind is a hopeless business. Stansfield does not attempt anything like a big kick, but just drives the ball hard and low on to the legs of the County forwards, sending his own men close after it, so that a scrimmage is formed almost at the very spot where the ball grounds.
"Now, School, sit on it! Do you hear?" calls out the captain; and certainly it looks as if that unhappy ball were never destined to see the light again. The enemy's forwards cannot get it out from among the feet of the School forwards, try all they will, until, by sheer weight, they simply force it through. And then, when it does go through, there is young Forrester of the Fourth ready for it, and next moment it is back in its old place in the middle of the "mush." In due time, out it comes again--this time on Wren's side--and once again, after a short run, there it is again, on almost the identical spot of earth where it has undergone its last two poundings.
"Played up, Dominies!" cries out Stansfield, cheerily. "Stick to it now!"
Stick to it they do, with the wind fresh on their faces, and the County fellows charging and plunging and shoving like fury upon them.
Ah! there goes the ball, out at the County end for a wonder. The spectators cheer loudly for the schoolboys. Little they know! It had much better have stayed there among their feet than roll out into the open. The County quarter-back has it in his hands in a twinkling, and in another twinkling he has lifted it with a drop-kick high into the air, all along the wind, which carries it, amid cheers and shouts, right up 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, is Wraysford, and does not often try this game. But the ball has far outstripped 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 and the ball are no longer visible. Then follow a lot more scrimmages, with similar results. It is awfully slow for the spectators, but Stansfield rejoices over it, and the County men chafe.
"Can't you let it out there? Play looser, and let it through," says their captain.
Loose it is.
"That's better!" says the County captain, as presently the ball comes out 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--and now, as the schoolboys look round first at the goal and then at the County man with the ball, the distance looks painfully small. And even if it were greater, this wind would do the business.
The County man takes plenty of room back from his mark, up to which the School forwards stand ready for one desperate rush the moment the ball touches the ground. Alas, it is no go! They have a knowing hand and a quick foot to deal with. Before they can cover the few yards which divide them, the ball is dropped beautifully, and flies, straight as an arrow, over the cross-bar, amid the tremendous cheers of the County men and their friends.
"Never mind!" says Stansfield, as his men walk out once more to the fray, "they shan't get another before half-time!"