s out captain, and in a trice he passes the ball into
my hands, and I am off like the wind. So suddenly has it all been done
that I have already a yard or two start before my flight is discovered.
There is a yelling and a rush behind me; there is a roar from the crowds
on either side; there is a clear "Follow up, Parkhurst!" from Wright in
the rear; there is a loud "Collar him!" from the Craven captain ahead.
I am steering straight for their goal; three men only are between me and
it--one, their captain, right back, and Slider and another man in front
of him.

I see at a glance that my only hope is to keep as I am going and waste
no time in dodging, or assuredly the pursuing host will be upon me.
Slider and his companion are closing in right across my path, almost
close together. With a bound I dash between them. Have they got me, or
have I escaped them? A shout louder than ever and a "Bravo!" from
Wright tell me I am clear of that danger, and have now but their last
defence to pass. He is a tall, broad fellow, and a formidable foe to
encounter, and waits for me close under their goal. The pace, I feel,
is telling on me; the shouting behind sounds nearer, only a few yards
divides us now. Shall I double, shall I venture a kick, or shall I
charge straight at him?

"Charge at him!" sounds Wright's voice, as if in answer to my thought.
I gather up all my remaining force, and charge. There is a flash across
my eyes, and a dull shock against my chest. I reel and stagger, and
forget where I am. I am being swept along in a torrent; the waters with
a roar rush past me and over me. Every moment I get nearer and nearer
the fatal edge--I am at it--I hang a moment on the brink, and then--

"Down!" shouts a voice close at my ear, and there is such a noise of
cheering and rejoicing that I sit up and rub my eyes like one waking
bewildered from a strange dream.

Then I find out what has happened. When I charged at the Craven captain
the shock sent me back staggering into the very arms of Wright and our
forwards, who were close at my heels, and who then, in a splendid and
irresistible rush, carried me and the ball and the half of the other
side along with them right behind the enemy's goal-line, where we fall
_en masse_ to the earth--I, with the ball under me, being at the bottom.

Even if I had been hurt--which I was not--there was no time to be wasted
on condolences or congratulations. The time-keeper held his watch in