"That'll do, Storm—that's enough, Grain," said Dick. "This is a football-field, not a rat-pit."
"I was nowhere near the ball when he hacked me," pleaded Dave.
"Rot!" said Grain. "You fell over my foot. I'm as much hurt as you."
"Better temper, please," said Dick, restarting the game. But this time he paid less heed to the play in general than to the movements of Grain in particular. Very soon he saw something which confirmed his suspicions. Pretending to head a ball which was nowhere near him, Grain scraped some skin off Arkness's knees with his boot, while striking the back of his hand against Tom Jaye's nose, causing that organ to bleed a little.
Dick promptly blew his whistle and ran to the scene. "Free kick against you, Grain," he announced. "Don't be more like a windmill than you can help. It's dangerous!"
Grain smiled in a supercilious sort of way, and, folding his arms like a gladiator, contemptuously watched Dave take the free kick. To show how utterly a word in season was lost on him, the next minute he literally jumped, knees up, into Allan a Dale's back, sending that lightly-built and altogether harmless Merry Man somersaulting over the ropes.
"Here, stop rotting, you lout!" cried Robin, his blood boiling.
Grain's immediate answer was an uplifted fist and a vicious blow at Robin's face.
Robin saved his beauty, not to mention a considerable amount of sticking-plaster, by ducking swiftly and taking the hard smack on his shoulder. There were cries of indignant disgust from players and spectators alike.
"How's that for dirty play, referee?" somebody shouted.