Part 23 (1/2)

”Oh, well, never mind,” said Mansell; ”he is a good chap, really, only he can't keep his temper. He'll probably apologise to you both before the end of the day. I remember Ferguson said once: 'All men are fools and half of them are b.l.o.o.d.y fools.' Not so bad for Ferguson that! Cheer up!”

”Yes; but, d.a.m.n it all, it is a bit thick,” said Lovelace. ”And a tick like Burgoyne to boot.”

As they were changing, a f.a.g from Buller's made a nervous entry; he looked very lost, but finally summoned up enough courage to ask Davenport if he knew where Caruthers was.

”Yonder, sirrah, lurking behind the piano.”

The f.a.g came up.

”Oh--I say--er--Caruthers. 'The Bull'--er, I mean Mr Buller wants to see you as soon as you are changed.”

”Right,” said Gordon.

”I said so,” said Mansell; ”he will weep over you and shake your hand like a long-lost brother; and after you will follow Lovelace, who will once more lead the lads with white jerseys and red dragons to victory against Osborne. Good-bye; you needn't stop, you know,” he informed the f.a.g, who was giving a stork-like performance, by gyrating first on one foot then on another.

”That means I shall miss my tea,” said Gordon.

”I fear so,” answered Mansell. ”I don't really think you can expect 'the Bull' to receive you with crumpets and m.u.f.fins and other goodly delights. Of course to-morrow is Sunday; you might manage to work a supper-party, but don't rely on it. Come and tell me the result of your chat; you will find me in my study; don't knock; just walk in; you are always welcome.”

As Gordon walked across the courts to Buller's study he had not the slightest doubt as to how the interview would end. ”The Bull” was often like this. Only yesterday Foster had told him some long yarn of how he had beaten a lad in Christy's and had hit his hand by mistake; and to kick a person was, after all, a far more undignified method of a.s.sault.

It was almost actionable. Quite contentedly he knocked on the door and went in. He was not, however, welcomed with open arms. ”The Bull” stood with his back to the door, facing the fireplace, his hands behind his back. He did not speak for a minute or so. Gordon wondered if it would be correct to take a chair. ”The Bull” broke the silence.

”Well, Caruthers, are you sorry for what happened this afternoon?”

This took Gordon by surprise: it was hardly the interview he had been led to expect. He murmured ”Yes, sir” rather indistinctly.

”Are you, though? Because if you are going to come in here and say you are sorry, when you are not, simply to smooth things over, you would be a pretty rotten sort of fellow.”

”Yes, sir.” Gordon had recovered his self-control and was ready for a fight.

”Well, this is the way I look at things. I am here to coach Fernhurst sides; it is my life's work. I love Fernhurst, and I have devoted all my energy and care to help my old school, and it seems to me that you are trying--you and Lovelace between you--to ruin my work and stand in my light. Both of you as individuals are well worth your places in both under-sixteen sides, football and cricket. As individuals, I say; and you think you are indispensable to the side, and that we can't do without you. You can afford to laugh when you miss catches, and not pay attention to me when I am trying to give you the benefits of my experience.”

”I heard every word----”

”Will you kindly wait till I have finished. Fernhurst has done very well in the past without you and Lovelace, and five years hence it will have to do without you, and I am not going to have you interfere with the present. You hate me, I dare say; from all I hear of you, you hate my house; and you stir up sedition against me. You show the others how much you care for me. And you are both people who have some influence in your house, and wherever you are, for that matter. And are you using it for the good of Fernhurst? You ruined all my pleasure in the cricket Colts; but I don't care about myself. All I care for is Fernhurst. Why did I stop Lovelace being captain? Because I want a man who is going to back me up, who is going to play for the side and not for himself. And I tell you I am going to drop Lovelace; he plays for himself; he gives rotten pa.s.ses; he upsets combination; and I won't have him on my side.”

Gordon could stand it no longer.

”Sir, I am not going to hold a brief for myself. But you have not treated Lovelace fairly. Last year on a trial game you kicked him out of the side, only to find in a week that you could not do without him. And to-day, sir, on a trial game you deposed him from the captaincy.”

”Do you mean to say that after playing Rugby football for twenty-five years I don't know what I am talking about?”

Gordon saw he had said too much.

”And I am not talking about his play, I am talking about his general att.i.tude. Now, didn't you two rag about a good deal at the nets last term?”

”Well, sir, it was hardly ragging, sir----”

”Oh, hardly ragging.... There must be no ragging.... If we are going to turn out good sides we must be in dead earnest the whole time. You imagine you are loyal to Fernhurst. My old sides followed me implicitly.

I loved them, and they loved me. We worked together for Fernhurst; now, are you doing your best for Fernhurst?”