"You understand, Jukes?" said the chairman. No reply. "Arper here is the man we sent for. Arper"--the impressiveness of Mr. Higginbottom was very carefully calculated--"you've no polish, me lad, you lack experience, you are young, you've got to grow and you've got to learn, but you might make a goalkeeper if you was took in hand by the Rovers. Understand me, Arper,"--the chairman raised an eloquent forefinger--"I say ye _might_ if you was took in hand an' trained by a club o' the class o' the Rovers. But you've a long way to go. Do you understand, me lad?" "Yes, mister," said the Sailor humbly. The "mister" jarred horribly upon the sensitive ear of Mr. W. H. Jukes, who whispered, "Call him 'sir,' yer fool." "Very well, then," proceeded Mr. Augustus Higginbottom, "now we'll come to business. My feller directors"--the chairman waved a magniloquent hand--"agrees with me that the Rovers can offer you a pound a week because you are promisin', although not justified as you are at present. Now what do you say?" "Nothin' doin'," said Mr. W. H. Jukes, before the goalkeeper could say anything. "Come on, Sailor boy. We are wastin' our time. We'll be gettin' to the station." "My remarks, Jukes, was not addressed to you," said the chairman with awful dignity. "The directors has no use for _your_ services, as I thought I 'ad made clear." "I'm sorry, sir," said Ginger, with a considered politeness that seemed rather to surprise the committee. "Come on, Sailor. A quid a week! I think we can do better nor that." "One moment," said Mr. Augustus Higginbottom. There was a hurried consultation while Ginger and the goalkeeper began to move to the door. "One moment, Arper." Ginger, drawing the Sailor after him, returned with every sign of reluctance to the middle of the room. "Jukes," said the chairman, "you have nothing to do with this matter, anyway." "No, sir," said Ginger, with a deference he was very far from feeling. "You quite understand that, Jukes?" "Yes, sir," said Ginger, with formidable politeness. "Very good. Now, Arper, the directors is prepared to rise to twenty-five shillings a week, an' that's their limit." "I'm sorry, gentlemen," said Ginger, "but twenty-five bob a week is not a bit o' use to either on us. We like the town what we've seen on it, but two pound a week's our minimum. It's only wastin' time to talk of less. If we ain't worth two pound a week to the Blackhampton Rovers, I dessey we'll be worth it to the Otspur or the Villa. Come on, Sailor. We're only wastin' our time, boy." This carefully delivered ultimatum made quite a sensation. There was not one of the committee who would not cheerfully have slain Mr. W. H. Jukes. But they wanted that goalkeeper very badly. Moreover, the mention of the Hotspur and the Villa did not lessen this desire. "One moment, Jukes." A further consultation followed. This matter called for very masterful and, at the same time, very delicate handling.