An odd meeting indeed, and a miserable one; yet to none of the three so miserable as to the injured Wraysford, who ever since the day of the Nightingale examination had not known a happy hour at Saint Dominic’s.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Mr Cripps at Saint Dominic’s.
Oliver Greenfield’s banishment from civilised society, however much it may have gratified the virtuous young gentlemen of the Fifth, was regarded by a small section of fellows in the Sixth with unmitigated disgust. These fellows were the leading spirits of the Saint Dominic Football Club, which was just about to open proceedings for the season. To them the loss of the best half-back in the school was a desperate calamity.
They raged and raved over the matter with all the fury of disappointed enthusiasts. They didn’t care a bit, it almost seemed, whether the fellow was a cheat or not. All they knew was, he was the quickest half-back and the safest drop-kick the school had, and here was the match with Landfield coming on, and, lo and behold! their man was in Coventry, forsooth, and not to be had out for love or money. Thus baulked, the Sixth Form athletes could afford to wax very virtuous and philanthropic on the subject of Coventry generally.
“The Doctor ought to put a stop to it,” said Stansfield, who this year occupied the proud position of captain of the fifteen.
“Why, we’ve not got a single man worth twopence behind the scrimmage!”
This was gratifying for Loman, one of the council of war, who usually played quarter or half-back in the matches.