The last arrival, seeing little chance for effective work, took a running leap, and, landing on the apex of the pyramid, whirling about while in the air so as to alight on his back, kicked up his feet and strove to made himself as heavy as he could.
The only object this young man seemed to have was to batter down the score of players and flatten out Jack Dudley, far below at the bottom; but when, with the help of the referee, the mass was disentangled, and Jack, with his mop-like hair, his soiled uniform, and his grimy face, struggled to his feet and pantingly waited for the signal from his captain, he was just as good as ever.

It takes a great deal to hurt a rugged youth, who has no bad habits and is in sturdy training.
The active lad who had downed Jack when going at full speed, and nipped in the bud his brilliant attempt, was Fred Greenwood, only a few months younger.

He was full-back for the Oakdales and their best player.
Furthermore, he was the closest friend of Jack Dudley.

In the game it was war to the knife between them, but in the very crisis of the terrific struggle neither had a harsh thought or a spark of jealousy of the other.

Fred led the cheering of the opposing eleven when Jack kicked such a beautiful goal, but gritted his teeth and muttered: "You did well, my fine fellow, but just try it again--that's all!" And Jack _did_ try it again, as I have explained, and, tackling him low, Fred downed him.