“We realised what you are realising now, old sportsman—the danger of a rot and the value of a safety valve. You ask what we can do to hit back. Well, we voluntarily scratched our fixture list. The Head has gone one better and forbidden house games. We shall go one better still. Our defiant answer will be the playing of the match of the season. The Rainhurst match will come off.”
“How can we do it?”
“It’s not very difficult,” said Terence. “Rainhurst is within cycling distance. There is also quite a good service of trains. On the afternoon of the second Saturday in the second half of term the First Fifteen will simply go to Rainhurst by various secret ways and meet there. The Rainhurst team will be on the field and the game will be played. Then we shall all find separate ways home. The Head will probably never know. Who’s going to miss us?”
“But how about the Rainhurst Head? He’s bound to know what’s the matter here. Won’t he smell a rat?”
“Not,” said Smythe, “unless Roe is on the field, and then we should all smell one. And we can do that without going to Rainhurst.”
Saville considered the matter from every side. At last he looked up again.
“What I mean is, he must know that we’ve scratched all our matches. Won’t he wonder a bit? Supposing he writes to the Head and mentions it?”
“Why should he? When their secretary wrote to me the other week he just said he’d heard that we’d scratched some of our matches. Was the Rainhurst match to stand good? He didn’t say anything about the Head asking.”
So at last Saville emitted a hoarse chuckle of delight: “Glory be! What a terrific rag! But it can be improved on. Why not form up in a body outside the school and march there?”
“So soon as there’s any procession,” put in Rouse, “I always cease to take any interest in things. Nothing causes me more suffering than to be called upon to process.”