Actons Feud | Page 3

set his lips and I believe made up his mind that in any case Aspinall should not get the winning goal. How it exactly happened I cannot say, but as Aspinall was steadying himself, when at top speed, for an almost point-blank delivery, I saw Acton break his own stride, shoot out his leg, and the next moment the International was stumbling forward, whilst the ball rolled harmlessly onward into our goal-keeper's hands. I could hardly believe my own eyes, but it was a deliberate trip, if ever there was one! Aspinall tried to recover himself, failed, and came with a sickening crash against the goal-post. I blew the whistle and rushed to Aspinall; his cheek was bleeding villainously and he was deadly pale. I helped him up, and he said with his usual smile--who could mistake it for a sneer?--"Thanks, old man. Yes, I do feel a bit seedy. That back of yours is an animal, though." He tried hard to keep his senses; I saw him battling against his faintness, but the pain and shock were too much for him; he fell down again in a dead faint.
We improvised a hurdle and carried him up to the school. Acton, pale to the lips, prepared to bear a hand, but Bourne unceremoniously took him by the arm and said with concentration, "No thanks, Acton. We'll excuse you--you beastly cad!" I heard Bourne's remark, though no one else saw or heard. Acton's hand closed involuntarily, and he gave Bourne a vitriolic look, but did nothing nor said anything. We took Aspinall up to Merishall's--his old house--where he was staying, and left him there still unconscious.
What astonished me was that no one save Bourne had noticed the trip, but when I came to think it over the explanation was easy. Acton had, whether from accident or of purpose, "covered" his man and blocked the view from behind. I myself had not really seen the trip, but it would have been plainly visible for any one opposite on the touch-line, and luckily there was no one opposite. The goal-keeper might have seen it, but Roberts never attends to anything but the ball--the reason he's the fine keeper that he is. Bourne had actually seen it, being practically with Acton, and I knew by his pale face and scornful eyes that he would dearly have liked to kick Acton on the spot.
I was, as you may guess, intensely pleased that no one had an idea of the foul except Bourne and myself, for I could imagine vividly where the rumour of this sort of "form" would spread to. We'd hear of it for years after.
I mentally promised that Acton should have a little of my opinion on the matter on the first opportunity.



CHAPTER II
THE PENALTY
I arranged to see Bourne that evening, when we should have heard the doctor's report on Aspinall. In the evening Bourne strolled into my room, looking a little less gloomy than I expected. "Briggs says that there is nothing broken, and that as soon as Aspinall gets over the shock he will be all right. The cut may leave a scar, but that will be about all. All the same, Carr, I think that's too heavy a price to pay for the bad temper of one of our fellows who can't stand a tumble into the mud at 'footer.' You saw the villainy, didn't you?"
"I can't say I actually saw him trip, but there's no doubt whatever that it was an abominable foul."
"None at all. I saw him, worse luck, tolerably plainly."
"Do you know anything about him?"
"Practically nothing."
"I think Biffen's rather fancy he's going to lift them out of the mire."
"Can't say I envy them their champion."
"What strikes me as odd is that such a magnificent player should do such a vile trick."
"Rum, certainly. The affair will give quite a professional touch to our 'Socker' fixtures, and the Carthusians will ask us to bar our bullies when they come down again. Oh, this is sweet!"
"I say, Bourne, this business must not move one inch further. You've spoken to no one?"
"Is it likely?"
"We'll not have any of our dirty linen washed coram populo, old chap. Frightful bad form. No one knows but you, Aspinall, and self."
"Surely Aspinall will----"
"You don't know Aspinall, old man. He'd shrivel up sooner than say a word more. Bet you he'll speak of it as an accident. Remember, he was captain of the school here once."
"Which makes it a blacker shame than ever," said Bourne, wrathfully.
"I've inquired casually of the Fifth, and it seems our friend once distinguished himself in the gym. Lost his temper--as _per recipe_--and Hodgson had to knock him down before he could see that we put on the gloves here for a little healthy exercise, and the pleasure of lifting some of