There were some black looks and a murmur of indignation among the home
team, but Mr. Blake hushed it up in a moment.

"I think," he said pleasantly, "that the play is a trifle rough. Our
men," he added, laughing, "are rather under size."

Noaks muttered something about not funking; but Mr. Fox said,--

"Yes, just so. Come, play the game, boys, and think less about
charging."

The loss of their right half-back was distinctly felt by the Birchites
during the commencement of the second half, and Diggory was called upon
three times in quick succession to save his charge. He acquitted
himself like a brick, and the last time did a thing which afforded his
side an immense amount of secret satisfaction. He caught the ball in
his hands, and at the same moment Noaks made a fierce rush, meaning
to knock him through the goal. Diggory, with an engaging smile, hopped
on one side, and the Philistine flung himself against the post, and
bumped his head with a violence which might have cracked any ordinary
skull. He came back scowling. A moment later Jack Vance ran into him,
and took the ball from between his feet. Noaks charged viciously, and
in a blind fit of temper deliberately raised his fist and struck the
other player in the face.

"_Stop!_"

It was Mr. Blake's voice, and he came striding up the ground looking as
black as thunder.