Then suddenly he noticed a remarkable phenomenon. The other wing
three-quarter was Rand-Brown. If Rand-Brown was playing for the second,
who was playing for the first?

He looked at the list.

"_Come_ on," he said hastily to M'Todd. He wanted to get away
somewhere where his agitated condition would not be noticed. He felt
quite faint at the shock of seeing his name on the list of the first
fifteen. There it was, however, as large as life. "M. Barry." Separated
from the rest by a thin red line, but still there. In his most
optimistic moments he had never dreamed of this. M'Todd was reading
slowly through the list of the second. He did everything slowly, except
eating.

"Come on," said Barry again.

M'Todd had, after much deliberation, arrived at a profound truth. He
turned to Barry, and imparted his discovery to him in the weighty
manner of one who realises the importance of his words.

"Look here," he said, "your name's not down here."

"I know. _Come_ on."

"But that means you're not playing for the second."

"Of course it does. Well, if you aren't coming, I'm off."