"Rather. He'll get better every game, you'll see, as he gets more used
to playing in the first three-quarter line. And he's as keen as
anything on getting into the team. Practises taking passes and that
sort of thing every day."

"Well, he'll get his colours if we lick Ripton."

"We ought to lick them. They've lost one of their forwards, Clifford, a
red-haired chap, who was good out of touch. I don't know if you
remember him."

"I suppose I ought to go and see Allardyce about these colours, now.
Good-bye."

There was running and passing on the Monday for every one in the three
teams. Trevor and Clowes met Mr Seymour as they were returning. Mr
Seymour was the football master at Wrykyn.

"I see you've given Barry his second, Trevor."

"Yes, sir."

"I think you're wise to play him for the first. He knows the game,
which is the great thing, and he will improve with practice," said Mr
Seymour, thus corroborating Milton's words of the previous Saturday.

"I'm glad Seymour thinks Barry good," said Trevor, as they walked on.
"I shall go on playing him now."

"Found out who wrote that letter yet?"