"She's a wonder," he said to himself. "I wonder how it is she got to me as she has. I know. She makes me think--" But Duckworth refused even to himself to say of whom she made him think. "Except he strive lawfully" the crown would bring "neither honour nor pleasure." Those words, and the face which had suddenly been recalled to Duckworth's memory reconstructed his whole scheme of football diplomacy. "By George, we cannot play Liebold; we can't do it. The boys will kick like steers, but how can we? I'm up against a fierce proposition, all right."And so he found when he called his men together and put to them the problem before him. "It seems a rotten time to bring this matter up just when we are going on to the ground, but I never really thought much about it till that little lady put it to me as I told you. And, fellows, I have felt as if it were really up to me to put it before you. They have lost their goal man, Coleman--there's no better in the League--and because of this infernal rule they decline to put on a cracking good player. They are playing the game on honour, and they are expecting us to do the same, and as that English chap says, they expect us to be gentlemen. Iapologise to you all, and if you say go on as we are, I will go on because I feel I ought to have kicked before. But I do so under protest and feeling like a thief. I suggest that Harremann take Liebold's place. Awfully sorry about it, Liebold, and I apologise to you. I can't tell you how sorry I am, boys, but that's how it is with me."There was no time for discussion, and strangely enough there was little desire for it, the Captain's personality and the action of the Wolf Willow team carrying the proposition through. Harremann took his place on the team, and Liebold made his contribution that day from the side lines. But the team went on to the field with a sense that whatever might be the outcome of the match they had begun the day with victory.
The match was contested with the utmost vigour, not to say violence; but there was a absence of the rancour which had too often characterised the clashing of these teams on previous occasions, the Eagle Hill team carrying on to the field a new respect for their opponents as men who had shown a true sporting spirit. And by the time the first quarter was over their action in substituting an inferior player for Liebold for honour's sake was known to all the members of the Wolf Willow team, and awakened in them and in their friends among the spectators a new respect for their enemy. The match resulted in a victory for the home team, but the generous applause which followed the Eagle Hill team from the field and which greeted them afterward at the dinner where they occupied an honoured place at the table set apart for distinguished guests, and the excellent dinner provided by the thrifty Ladies' Aid of All Saints Church went far to soothe their wounded spirits and to atone for their defeat.
"Awfully fine of you, Duckworth," said Larry, as they left the table together. "That's the sort of thing that makes for clean sport.""I promised to see your mother after the match," said Duckworth.
"Can we find her now?"
"Sure thing," said Larry.
Mrs. Gwynne received the young man with hand stretched far out to meet him.
"You made us lose the game, Mrs. Gwynne," said Duckworth in a half-shamed manner, "and that is one reason why I came to see you again.""I?" exclaimed Mrs. Gwynne.
"Well, you quoted Scripture against us, and you know you can't stand up against Scripture and hope to win, can you?" said Duckworth with a laugh.
"Sit down here beside me, Mr. Duckworth," she said, her eyes shining. "I won't pretend not to understand you;" she continued when he had taken his place beside her. "I can't tell you how proud I am of you.""Thank you," said Duckworth. "I like to hear that. You see Inever thought about it very much. I am not excusing myself.""No, I know you are not, but I heard about it, Mr. Duckworth. We all think so much of you. I am sure your mother is proud of you."Young Duckworth sat silent, his eyes fastened upon the ground.
"Please forgive me. Perhaps she is--no longer with you," said Mrs.
Gwynne softly, laying her hand upon his. Duckworth nodded, refusing to look at her and keeping his lips firmly pressed together. "I was wrong in what I said just now," she continued.
"She is with you still; she knows and follows all your doings, and I believe she is proud of you."Duckworth cleared his throat and said with an evident effort, "You made me think of her to-day, and I simply had to play up. I must go now. I must see the fellows." He rose quickly to his feet.
"Come and see us, won't you?" said Mrs. Gwynne.
"Won't I just," replied Duckworth, holding her hand a moment or two. "I can't tell you how glad I am that I met you to-day.""Oh, wait, Mr. Duckworth. Nora, come here. I want you to meet my second daughter. Nora, this is Mr. Duckworth, the Captain.""Oh, I know him, the Captain of the enemy," cried Nora.
"Of our friends, Nora," said her mother.
"All right, of our friends, now that we have beaten you, but I want to tell you, Mr. Duckworth, that I could gladly have slain you many times to-day.""And why, pray?"
"Oh, you were so terribly dangerous, and as for Larry, why you just played with him. It was perfectly maddening to me.""All the same your brother got away from me and shot the winning goal. He's fearfully fast.""A mere fluke, I tell him."
"Don't you think it for one little minute. It was a neat bit of work."
