“You see, Mother, we want to eliminate every sign of professionalism,” said Larry, “and emphasise the principle of local material for clubs.” “Ah, I see, and a very good idea, I should say,” said his mother. “The Eagle Hill team, for instance, will be made up of Eagle Hill men only. That is really much better for the game because you get behind your team all the local pride and enthusiasm.” “A foolish rule, I call it,” said Switzer abruptly to Kathleen, “and you can't enforce it anyway. Who can tell the personality of a team ten, twenty or fifty miles away?” “I fancy they can tell themselves,” said Jack Romayne. “Their Captain can certify to his men.” “Aha!” laughed Switzer. “That's good. The Captain, I suppose, is keen to win. Do you think he would keep a man off his team who is his best player, and who may bring him the game?” Switzer's face was full of scorn. “I take it they are gentlemen,” was Romayne's quiet rejoinder. “Of course, Mr. Romayne,” said Mrs. Gwynne. “That gets rid of all the difficulty. Otherwise it seems to me that all the pleasure would be gone from the contest, the essential condition of which is keeping to the rules.” “Good for you, Mother. You're a real sport,” said Larry. “Besides,” replied his mother, “we have Scripture for it. You remember what it says? 'If a man strive for masteries yet is he not crowned except he strive lawfully.' 'Except he strive lawfully,' you see. The crown he might otherwise win would bring neither honour nor pleasure.” “Good again, Mother. You ought to have a place on the League committee. We shall have that Scripture entered on the rules. But I must run and dress. Farwell, you can take charge of Duckworth.” But Duckworth was uneasy to be gone. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Gwynne, I must get my men together.” “Well, Mr. Duckworth,” said Mrs. Gwynne, smiling on him as she gave him her hand, “I am sorry we cannot wish you a victory, but we can wish you your very best game and an honourable defeat.” “Thank you,” said Duckworth. “I feel you have done your best.” “Come and see us afterward, Mr. Duckworth. What a splendid young man,” she continued, as Duckworth left the party and set off to get his men together with the words “except he strive lawfully” ringing in his ears. “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.”