k, "Discretion is the better part of valour," and the sentence
flashed across his heated brain with all the force of actual conviction.
"What was he to do?" "Was it to be football first, and Mary afterwards?"
Something whispered "yes; Mary could afford to wait, but the 'Cup' was a
transitory article, and the splendid chance his club had of winning it
might pass away like a dream." "Why, there was Joe Laidlay, he was in
something like the same dilemma so far as his 'lass' was concerned, and
if Joe, he thought, could afford to put off his sweetheart, Maggie
Jackson, in the same way, he (Bob) considered that he should be able to
conclude the arrangement, and make the best excuse to Mary."

Quietly speaking, Bob had an ambition in his football, and it consisted
in being a member of the eleven who would at one time or another "lick"
the Queen's Park, and went into the practice game with his whole heart,
and played all through in good form.

Just a year or so before this the "Vale" would have given the same
Dumbarton lot short shift and no favour on any of the grounds, but
matters were altered. They wanted a lot of their old blood, which had in
years gone bye carried them through many a doubtful battle. They had
lost their grand goalkeeper, and the crack half-back had vacated his
favourite position to keep the ball from going between the uprights in
"time o' need."

Some of the daring forwards had also bade farewell to the game, and were
scattered over the length and breadth of the land. The match, however,
had to be played--it would brook no delay--and the spirited captain
resolved to make the best of it, although a score of misgivings passed
through his mind as to the issue. There was one thing in favour of the
"Vale," they had their own ground to play upon, and that was reckoned as
worth a goal any day.

Before the start Johnny Freer told his old chums to keep their "weather
eyes" open for sudden rushes by the Dumbarton forward division, and
before the game was very old, they discovered that the advice did not
come a moment too soon. Keeping close on the touch lines till well down
among the half-backs, Maclure and his light companion, "the Bird,"
assuredly did not allow the grass to grow under their leather bars. The
ground was a little sloppy from the recent rain, but, strange to say,
the Dumbarton men seemed to keep their feet in a remarkable manner.
M'Luckie and big Walton tried their very best to intercept the
drib