The Gladiators
was in such a state of horrible suspense in my life. I can tell you I was jolly glad when we got out of the pavilion onto the field."
"About the match," said I, gently urging him to the point.
"It was a curious game;" Georgie chuckled at the memory. "But the anxiety was so awful that I couldn't enjoy it. We won the toss and played with a slight wind. The Gladiators had a big Cambridge forward and he led off with a fine kick right over to Linwood. It was like my luck. He mulled the catch and let the beastly ball bounce from his chest bang on to the toes of their pack. It was awful. I dived for it, but I knew at once that I'd misjudged the distance. Their forwards got there before me; kicked it past me, and were arguing about who'd scored the try before I knew where I was.
"Our captain—Rogers, you know—looked at that wretched Linnet, but I'm glad to think he didn't say what he was going to, when he saw the agony in the
211
