"Georgie"
Germany at his beastly chemistry, and Cockram's had his head bashed in. The town's never had a weaker set of backs, and the forwards—well! Two of 'em funked last week against that Yorkshire club. They're not reliable, Martin, and I can't spread myself all over the field at once. They'll just wipe the ground with us."
"You had such a strong team at Christmas," said I, trying to show a friendly interest I was far from feeling.
Georgie flung himself moodily into a chair and stroked his close-cropped hair.
"We had the Linnet then, you see," said he quietly.
"And what's become of him now?"
His blue eyes clouded.
"Didn't you know? Poor devil went off his chump. His father's a Manchester shipper and he sent the Linnet out to South America to sell rags for his beastly firm. He had fever twice in Ecuador, and then got a touch of sun in Chili. He
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