And its
spirit improved too. The next scratch team they played beat them by a
goal and a try to a goal. Dencroft's was not depressed. It put the
result down to a fluke. Then they beat another side by a try to
nothing; and by that time they had got going as an organised team, and
their heart was in the thing.
They had improved out of all knowledge when the house-matches began.
Blair's was the lucky house that drew against them in the first round.
"Good business," said the men of Blair. "Wonder who we'll play in the
second round."
They left the field marvelling. For some unaccountable reason,
Dencroft's had flatly refused to act in the good old way as a doormat
for their opponents. Instead, they had played with a dash and
knowledge of the game which for the first quarter of an hour quite
unnerved Blair's. In that quarter of an hour they scored three times,
and finished the game with two goals and three tries to their name.
The School looked on it as a huge joke. "Heard the latest?" friends
would say on meeting one another the day after the game. "Kay's--I
mean Dencroft's--have won a match. They simply sat on Blair's. First
time they've ever won a house-match, I should think. Blair's are
awfully sick. We shall have to be looking out."
Whereat the friend would grin broadly. The idea of Dencroft's making a
game of it with his house tickled him.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180