the line-up. On the side-lines the St. Timothy’s spectators were not unmindful of what Edward was doing; that rush had brought the ball close to the boundary, and Edward heard eager cries, “That’s the way, Crashaw! Put it all over big brother now.”
Edward was getting winded; still he thought nothing of that. It was probably just the excitement of the game, and as he panted between plays, he glanced at Charles; but Charles’s face was serene; he moved about distributing whispered words and encouraging pats among his men; last of all he gave one to Jackson.
Jackson was not panting yet, but his eyes were burning now with an awakened fire and his long arms swung with an impatient nervousness. Edward, crouching opposite him, panting but exultant, was unaware of any change.
On the next play Blanchard let Edward take the ball again; but this time the boy was so anxious to get away quickly that he lost his feet and went down without even be-