"I rather like the look o' Arper." It was as Plato might have spoken had he ever worn a fur coat and had a large cigar with a band round it tucked in the side of his mouth, and had he placed his services at the disposal of the committee of the Blackhampton Rovers Football Club in order to enable it to distinguish the false from the true. "Make and shape there," said Mr. Higginbottom. "Light on his pins. Gets down to the ball." "Oh, well stopped, young un!" shouted an adventurous satellite, in order that an official decree might be promulgated to the general public. It was known at once round the ground that the critics had got their eyes on the new goalkeeper. "I've heard say, Gus," said the adventurous one, "that this youth--_well_ saved, _my_ lad!--is a sailor." "Sailor is he?" Mr. Higginbottom was so much impressed by the information that he began to chew the end of his cigar. "Ops about, don't he. I tell you what, Albert"--six satellites craned to catch the chairman's ukase--"I like the cut o' the Sailor." "Played, young un," cried the grandstand. "Albert," said the chairman, "who's that cab oss?" "The right full back, Gus?" "Him I mean. He's no use." The chairman glanced augustly at his card. "Jukes, I see. Who the 'ell's Jukes?" "On trial," said Mr. Satellite Albert. "But I don't altogether agree with you there, Gus." Albert differed deferentially from the chairman. "There's nothing like a touch o' Ginger." "I grant you," said the chairman. "But the goods has to be there as well. Ginger's no class. Moves like a height-year-old with the staggers." "Wake up, Jukes." The official decree was promulgated from the grandstand. It was known at once round the ground that it was all up with Jukes. "Chrysanthemum Top can't play for rock cakes and Everton toffee," was the opinion of the proletariat in the sixpenny stand. "Ginger's no class," said Mr. Augustus Higginbottom. "There's no class about Ginger." "Pull up your socks, Jukes," the grandstand exhorted him. Ginger knew already, without any official intimation, that he was being outplayed. Do as he would he did not seem able to mobilize quickly enough to stop these swift and skillful forwards. He had never met anything like them on Cox's Piece. Ginger knew already, without any help from the grandstand, that he was out of it. He was doing his level best, he was doing it doggedly with set teeth, but the truth was he felt like a carthorse compared with these forwards of the enemy who were racehorses one and all. But the Sailor ... the Sailor was magnificent so far. He had stopped every shot, and two at least only a goalkeeper touched with the divine fire could have parried. Half time was signaled, and in spite of the inefficiency of the right full back, the enemy had yet to score a goal. As the players walked off the field to refit for the second half, a special cheer was raised for young Harper.