oung Brooke and two or three of his men are shifting up farther,
where the opposite line is weak. Old Brooke strikes it out straight and
strong, and it falls opposite his brother. Hurrah! that rush has taken
it right through the School line, and away past the three trees, far
into their quarters, and young Brooke and the bull-dogs are close upon
it. The School leaders rush back, shouting, "Look out in goal!" and
strain every nerve to catch him, but they are after the fleetest foot
in Rugby. There they go straight for the School goal-posts, quarters
scattering before them. One after another the bull-dogs go down, but
young Brooke holds on. "He is down." No! a long stagger, but the danger
is past. That was the shock of Crew, the most dangerous of dodgers. And
now he is close to the School goal, the ball not three yards before
him. There is a hurried rush of the School fags to the spot, but no
one throws himself on the ball, the only chance, and young Brooke has
touched it right under the School goal-posts.

The School leaders come up furious, and administer toco to the wretched
fags nearest at hand. They may well be angry, for it is all Lombard
Street to a china orange that the School-house kick a goal with the ball
touched in such a good place. Old Brooke, of course, will kick it
out, but who shall catch and place it? Call Crab Jones. Here he comes,
sauntering along with a straw in his mouth, the queerest, coolest fish
in Rugby. If he were tumbled into the moon this minute, he would just
pick himself up without taking his hands out of his pockets or turning
a hair. But it is a moment when the boldest charger's heart beats quick.
Old Brooke stands with the ball under his arm motioning the School back;
he will not kick out till they are all in goal, behind the posts. They
are all edging forwards, inch by inch, to get nearer for the rush at
Crab Jones, who stands there in front of old Brooke to catch the ball.
If they can reach and destroy him before he catches, the danger is over;
and with one and the same rush they will carry it right away to the
School-house goal. Fond hope! it is kicked out and caught beautifully.
Crab strikes his heel into the ground, to mark the spot where the ball
was caught, beyond which the school line may not advance; but there they
stand, five deep, ready to rush the moment the ball touches the ground.
Take plenty of room. Don't give the rush a chance of reaching you. Place
it true and steady. Tru