The English back caught him round the waist, while another from behind seized the collar of his jersey, and the three came heavily to the ground together.
But the deed was done.

In the very act of falling he had managed to kick the ball, which flickered feebly up into the air and just cleared the English bar.

It had scarcely touched the ground upon the other side when the ringing of the great bell announced the termination of the match, though its sound was entirely drowned by the tumultuous shouting of the crowd.

A thousand hats were thrown into the air, ten thousand voices joined in the roar, and meanwhile the cause of all this outcry was still sitting on the ground, smiling, it is true, but very pale, and with one of his arms dangling uselessly from his shoulder.
Well, the breaking of a collar-bone is a small price to pay for the saving of such a match as that.

So thought Tom Dimsdale as he made for the pavilion, with his father keeping off the exultant crowd upon one side and Jack Garraway upon the other.