Martin. About three thousand got in free before the police could master the rush. Austin. That Chief Constable's an incompetent ass. He never sends us enough men. Martin. Fewer than usual to-day. There's a socialist demonstration on the recreation ground, and that's taken away a lot of police. Austin. Idiot! Does he think Blackton people will go to a political meeting when there's a football match? Martin. As you say, sir, he's a fool. Austin (_sitting at desk_). No use claiming for the loss either. Pass me the cheque-book, Martin. Those people with the mortgage on the stands threaten to foreclose unless we pay on Monday. I'd a letter this morning. Martin (_opening safe and passing cheque-book from it_). Can we meet it, sir? Austin. Yes. Metherell's transfer fee is in the Bank. Martin. That brightens our sky. Austin. Think so, Martin? (_Martin replaces Austin at desk, signs cheque, tears it out and then puts book back in safe._) Martin. I never thought we should live through the season. And here we are at the end of it still alive and kicking. Austin. They'd better kick to some purpose to-day, Martin, or----- Martin. It'll be all right, sir. Austin. You're a sanguine fellow. Suppose we lose. Second Division. No dividends. No dividends, no Club. No Club, no Secretary, Martin. Martin. Don't talk about it, sir. It's not losing my job. That doesn't matter. But the thought of Blackton going down is more than I can bear. Austin. Yes. It's ugly. You're a good fellow, Martin. Martin. Don't mention it, sir. I love the game. Austin. The game! Yes. Always the game. Martin. I often wish this side didn't exist, though it is my bread and butter.... That's the whistle. They're playing. Austin. Yes. Didn't you know? They'd begun before I came in here. Martin (_reproachfully_). Oh, sir! Austin. Don't let me keep you from your place. Martin. Aren't you coming? Austin. No. I shan't see much of this match, Martin. Martin. When so much depends upon it! Austin. Yes. That's why. Martin (_consolingly_). But you forget things when you watch the game. Austin (_kindly_). Go and forget them, Martin. (_Enter Florence, in outdoor spring costume, excitedly._) Florence. Father, aren't you coming? You've missed it all. We've scored a goal in the first five minutes. Austin. Scored already! Thank God. Florence. The most glorious goal you ever saw. Black-ton are playing up like little heroes. It's the match of the season. (_Martin slips out._) Angus is in terrific form. I take back what I said about him. Metherell himself couldn't do better. He had the Birchester goalee beat to smithereens. I tell you it's tremendous. Austin. How's Metherell playing? Florence. Against us. Austin (_impatiently_). Yes. But how? Florence. How does he generally play? Austin. Like that? He's in form? Florence. It's worth a guinea a minute to watch him. And you're missing it. Austin. I'll go on missing it, Flo.