air, felt a little stronger than he had been when he sat in the dressing-room and waited.
The Corinthians, who were spread along the nearer side of the field, raised a cheer for their team, and Harry, as he followed Frank Windsor and jumped over the rope, felt very proud.
Frank Windsor warmed his eleven up at once by giving them signal practice. Harry crouched and ran and went through all the motions with enthusiasm. It was not at all bad fun, this harmless showing off before a crowd of sympathetic spectators.
In the midst of it a cheer broke from the boys on the farther side of the field—the Pythian cheer; and at that Harry, who had just crouched in the mimic line-up, swallowed hard. The moment had come. Rupert Ormsby, carrying the ball, burst through the throng of Corinthian spectators, and followed by his team, ran out on the field.
"Now then, fellows!" Frank Windsor said, and his team gathered round him to receive the last instructions. Harry glanced out of the
