"Rats to the old football match!" said Niblo. "If necessary, we will play two goalkeepers to hold the score down. Friday comes before Wednesday, and thrice-armed is he who gets his blow in first."
In the few remaining days before the tournament some of the Merry Men tried desperately hard to rub up their knowledge of indoor games. Allan a Dale, bashful and slow-spoken as a rule, became almost as loud-voiced as a drill-sergeant in his efforts to teach chess and draughts to his chums.
Lovers of the open-air as they were, their thoughts were continually wandering from the chequered board. Robin alone made satisfactory progress. It was up to him, he believed, to set his men a good example, though all his eloquence failed to keep Little John longer at the chess-board than fifteen minutes at a time.
"I shall just move the pieces anyhow and trust to luck," Little John said.
"Then your opponent will wipe the floor with you."
"If he does," said Little John, grimly, "let him look out for himself when I meet him on the football-field, that's all."
Generally speaking, it was this thought of out-door revenge which sustained the dejected Merry Men when they took their seats for the tournament on Friday evening.
Osbody had arranged the order of things most craftily. First came dominoes, as the game in which there was only a slight element of skill. It was natural that the Merry Men would score a few points at dominoes, though three-fourths of them were well-beaten, Robin and Allan being amongst the losers.
The Squirms were openly exultant. Even Osbody had difficulty in repressing a triumphant smile.
"Draughts next," announced the leader of the Squirms. "Any particular fancy about pairing off, Arkness?"