From the first it went hard with the Penchurch men. The School had never played up better. The scrimmages were beautifully packed, and the quarter and half-backs were never off the spot. Only when, above the crowd, Rollitt's head was seen to be at work, and it was apparent he had waked up for a time, was there any risk of confusion. But Yorke's "Play on Rollitt!" generally pulled the scrimmage together again, and warned friend and (after a time) foe what to expect. There was no holding Rollitt back when he once made up his mind to get the ball through; and no stopping him when once he got fairly started on a run. Twice before half-time and once after he scored a touch-down. Twice Yorke did the same, and once Clapperton. Corder discovered that a fellow does not always score, and yet may play a steady, useful game. He was disappointed that it was only left him to do the latter; and he set himself down as a failure. But Mr Stratton put him on his feet wonderfully at the end. "You've improved, Corder. You never played as well." The others worked well, and contributed to the great result, and perhaps, better still, grudged no one his greater glory. It was Fellsgarth that was playing, not Fullerton, Ranger, Brinkman, Fisher major, or anybody else. The final goal was Clapperton's. It was an historic event. For the first time in the match the Penchurch men had worked the ball up into the boys' quarters, and fears were being entertained lest, after all, they would save their "duck." The half-backs and quarter-backs of the School were squeezed in, all of a lump, between touch and goal; and those who looked on noticed with alarm that, as matters now stood, an easy drop-kick from any of the enemy's forwards might capture the goal. Rollitt was the first to put an end to this dangerous state of things. He bore down the scrimmage after his usual fashion, and succeeded, as he broke through, in getting the ball into his hands. But for once he could get no further. Twenty hands seized him and carried him to the ground, but not before he had sent back the ball into Fisher's hands. "Back up now--hard and fast!" cried Yorke.