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Updated: May 7, 2025
But if you see me signalling, then go in all you can and have a fight." There was a suspicion of weariness about the look of the Ripton champion as he shook hands for the last round. He was beginning to feel the effects of his hurricane fighting in the opening rounds. He began quietly, sparring for an opening. Sheen led with his left. Peteiro was too late with his guard.
It was his opponent in the final of the Feathers. He reached him as he swerved, and they fell together. The ball bounded forward. "Hullo, Peteiro," he said. "Thought you'd left." The other grinned recognition. "Hullo, Drummond." "Going up to Aldershot this year?" "Yes. Light-Weight." "So am I." The scrum had formed by now, and further conversation was impossible.
The advisability of manufacturing an injury had come home to him very vividly on the Saturday morning following the Ripton match, when he had read the brief report of that painful episode in that week's number of the Field in the school library. In the list of the Ripton team appeared the name R. Peteiro.
Nothing that he had ever experienced with the gloves on approached this. If only he could get out of this corner. Then, almost unconsciously, he recalled Joe Bevan's advice. "If a man's got you in a corner," Joe had said, "fall on him." Peteiro made another savage swing. Sheen dodged it and hurled himself forward. "Break away," said a dispassionate official voice.
There was all the old aggressiveness, and Peteiro and his partner, so far from being timid novices and losing their heads, eclipsed the exhibition given at Wrykyn by Waite and Dunn. Play had only been in progress six minutes when Keith, taking a pass on the twenty-five line, slipped past Attell, ran round the back, and scored between the posts. Three minutes later the other Ripton centre scored.
Drummond looked a little thoughtful as he put the ball in. He had been told that Peteiro was leaving Ripton at Christmas. It was a nuisance his being still at school.
Here he came, as usual, with the old familiar rush. Out went his left. But it missed its billet. Peteiro had checked his rush after the first movement, and now he came in with both hands. It was the first time during the round that he had got to close quarters, and he made the most of it. Sheen's blows were as frequent, but his were harder.
Sheen tried again a double lead. His opponent guarded the first blow, but the second went home heavily on the body, and he gave way a step. Then from the corner of his eye Sheen saw Bevan gesticulating wildly, so, taking his life in his hands, he abandoned his waiting game, dropped his guard, and dashed in to fight. Peteiro met him doggedly. For a few moments the exchanges were even.
He had had the worst of the first round, and meant to make up his lost points. Peteiro, losing no time, dashed in. Sheen met him with a left in the face, and gave way a foot. Again Peteiro rushed, and again he was stopped. As he bored in for the third time Sheen slipped him. The Ripton man paused, and dropped his guard for a moment. Sheen's left shot out once more, and found its mark.
The great Peteiro had taken as much as he had given, and once had been uncompromisingly floored by the Pauline's left. But in the second round he began to gain points. For a boy of his weight he had a terrific hit with the right, and three applications of this to the ribs early in the round took much of the sting out of the Pauline's blows.
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