The Moderns, after all, had a right to have their men in; and he had a right to assume they were better players than some of the selected Classics. It was easy to work himself into a rage, and talk about favouritism, and abuse of privilege, and all that. His popularity in his own house depended on his fighting their battles, and he must do it now. So he wrote a reply to Yorke. "Dear Yorke,--I do not agree with you about the fifteen. I consider the men on our side whom you have omitted are better than the three I have marked on your list. If we are to make the clubs a success, we ought to pull together, and let there be no suspicion, however groundless, of favouritism. "Yours truly, Geo. Clapperton." To this letter, which he sent over by another junior, more expeditious than his last, he received the following reply:-- "Dear Clapperton,--Sides have nothing to do with it. If the best fifteen names were all on your side, I should have to select them. But they are not. The fifteen I have chosen are undoubtedly the best men we have, and the team most likely to win the match. I suppose that is what we play for. "Yours truly,-- "Cecil Yorke." This polite correspondence Clapperton laid before his friends. The general feeling was that the Moderns were being unfairly and disrespectfully used. "It's the old story over again," said Dangle. "If we don't look after ourselves, nobody else will." "At any rate, as long as he's captain, I suppose he has the right to pick the team," said Fullerton. "_I_ shouldn't be particularly sorry if he were to leave me out. It wouldn't matter to me." "Who cares whether it matters to you? It matters to our side," said Brinkman, "and we oughtn't to stand it." CHAPTER SIX. ROLLITT. Rollitt of Wakefield's was a standing mystery at Fellsgarth. Though he had been three years at the school, and worked his way up from the junior form to one of the first six, no one knew him. He had no friends, and did not want any. He rarely spoke when not obliged to do so; and when he did, he said either what was unexpected or disagreeable. He scarcely ever played in the matches, but when he did he played tremendously. Although a Classic, he was addicted to scientific research and long country walks. His study was a spectacle for untidiness and grime. He abjured his privilege of having a fag. No one dared to take liberties with him, for he had an arm like an oak branch, and a back as broad as the door. All sorts of queer stories were afloat about him. It was generally whispered that his father was a common workman, and that the son was being kept at school by charity. Any reference to his poverty was the one way of exciting Rollitt. But it was too risky an amusement to be popular.