reed, wonderingly, that Dirty Dick's had a chance of being cock-house.
The fact that the Manor has lost caste brought about this possibility.
Boys just under fifteen found room at the Manor when other houses were
full. All the Manorites in the Shell and Removes were fellows who had
come to Harrow rather over than under fourteen years of age.

And when the list of the Torpid Eleven was posted, didn't John's heart
boil with pride when he read his own name at the bottom of it?

The Manor won the first and the second of the matches. Then came the
semi-final, with Damer's. When the teams met in the playing-fields the
difference in the size of the players was remarked. Damer's Torpids were
small boys, not much bigger than John or the Duffer. But they had behind
them that stupendous force which is fashioned out of pride, _esprit de
corps_, self-confidence begotten of long-continued success, and,
strongest of all, the conviction that every man-Jack would fight till he
dropped for the honour and glory of the crack house at Harrow. Not a boy
in Damer's team was Scaife's equal as a player, but in Scaife's
strength lay the weakness of the Manorites. They relied upon one player;
Damer's pinned faith to eleven.

As it happened to be a fine day, the School turned out in force to
witness the match. Most of the masters were present, and some ladies.
Rutford, however, had business elsewhere. The School commented upon his
absence with sly smiles and shrugs of the shoulder. Some of the
Manorites were indifferent; the better sort raged. The Caterpillar
appeared upon the ground in a faultless overcoat, carrying a large bag
of lemons. His straw hat was cocked at a slight angle.

"One is really uncommonly obliged to Dirty Dick for staying away," he
told everybody. "Speaking personally, the mere sight of him is very
upsetting to me. Keen as one feels about this match, one can't deny that
there is not room in a footer field for Dirty Dick and a self-respecting
person."

None the less, the absence of their house-master had a bad effect upon
the Torpids. Damer, you may be sure, had come down, prepared to cheer
louder than any boy in his house; Damer, it was whispered, had been
known to shed tears when his house suffered defeat; Damer, in fine,
inspired ardours--a passion of endeavour.

Scaife won the toss and kicked off.

For the first five minutes nothing of interest happened. Damer's played
collectively; the Manorites rather waited upon t