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Updated: June 17, 2025
"I never liked Mill much," said Barry, "but I think it's rather bad luck on the man." "Once," announced M'Todd, solemnly, "he kicked me for making a row in the passage." It was plain that the recollection rankled. Barry would probably have pointed out what an excellent and praiseworthy act on Mill's part that had been, when Rand-Brown came in. "Prefects' meeting?" he inquired.
I noticed he didn't look particularly keen on seeing me at first. I asked him if he was going to play fives. Then he said no, and told me what he'd really come for. He said he and Rand-Brown had had a row, and they'd agreed to have it out that morning in one of the fives-courts. Of course, when I heard that, I was all on to see it, so I said I'd wait, if he didn't mind.
Once Jevons got off for Ripton, but Trevor brought him down safely, and once Rand-Brown let his man through, as before, but Strachan was there to meet him, and the effort came to nothing. For Wrykyn, no one did much except tackle. The forwards were beaten by the heavier pack, and seldom let the ball out.
The inference was that he was not likely to forego his sleep for the purpose of wrecking studies. Chapple might disappear from the list. Now there were only Linton and Rand-Brown to be considered. His suspicions fell on Rand-Brown. Linton was the last person, he thought, to do such a low thing. He was a cheerful, rollicking individual, who was popular with everyone and seemed to like everyone.
"Or haven't they made you a prefect yet, M'Todd?" M'Todd said they had not. Nobody present liked Rand-Brown, and they looked at him rather inquiringly, as if to ask what he had come for. A friend may drop in for a chat. An acquaintance must justify his intrusion. Rand-Brown ignored the silent inquiry. He seated himself on the table, and dragged up a chair to rest his legs on.
Making allowances for the inevitable attack of nerves that attends a first appearance in higher football circles than one is accustomed to, Barry did well against the scratch team certainly far better than Rand-Brown had done. In the two most important branches of the game, the taking of passes and tackling, Barry did well. There was another scratch game on the Saturday.
Never even had the gloves on." "Never. I used to scrap when I was a kid, though." "That's no use," said O'Hara, decidedly. "But you haven't said what it is that ye've got against Rand-Brown. What is it?" "I don't see why I shouldn't tell you. You're in it as well. In fact, if it hadn't been for the bat turning up, you'd have been considerably more in it than I am." "What!" cried O'Hara.
He could see that Rand-Brown was racing up for the pass, and, as he reached the back, he sent the ball to him, waist-high. Then the back got to him, and he came down with a thud, with a vision, seen from the corner of his eye, of the ball bounding forward out of the wing three-quarter's hands into touch. Rand-Brown had bungled the pass in the old familiar way, and lost a certain try.
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