Almost upon the Rainhurst twenty-five a free kick was awarded Harley. The shouting died away. The crowded touch-line suddenly grew still. Rouse moved forward. He looked round for Coles. Coles was the best drop-kick in the school. It mattered not to Rouse that this might prove the winning effort of the match, and that if so the certainty existed that Coles would know how to turn it to good account. The school came first. He called to Coles: “Try for goal.” Coles went to the mark, looked round him almost nervously, took careful aim; the ball fell and he met it beautifully on the bounce with his toe. It was a great kick, and at first it seemed to have scored. Yet just beside the goal the breeze caught it and held it up. It dropped slowly just on the wrong side of the posts. Coles turned away distressfully. He took no notice of the cordial clapping. He had failed. Rainhurst took heart again. Over and over again they broke away, only to be smothered by the irresistible tackling of Rouse’s chosen backs. They had earned one try and it was clear that it had been the most they could do. It was not an effort that could be repeated. Harley could prevent it, but there was something they could not do. They could not find the way through to that other goal-line that would mean so much to them. At last this seemed to be borne in upon them slowly and they began to tire. They were losing and their hearts were failing them. Rouse could see it. He said no word. Instead he grew more resolute in manner and more wonderful in his own kicks, knowing that nothing can pull a tired team together like example. Somehow or other they would have to score. He was their captain and it was his task to whip them into a last desperate effort that would carry someone over that line. If they could not win this match, then at least they should not be beaten. He began to grow restless. Time was passing quickly. He felt that great responsibility upon him again. He had been chosen captain. If he could not somehow get one try out of this side from Harley then he was not a worthy leader. They had to cross that line. It was his task to make them. Only so could the greatness of this match be capped. Only so could this day be marked for always in red letters on the school’s official calendar.