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‘Then I’ll play,’ said Rakes, in his usual surly manner.

‘And I hope you will make a good score,’ said Edgar.

As the captain of the Redbank eleven walked away, Rakes looked after him with no friendly eyes. He had never forgotten the humiliating defeat he sustained when Edgar first came to the school. No opportunity had yet occurred of paying off the grudge he owed Edgar on that account.

‘He’s set his heart on winning this match,’ muttered Rakes to himself; ‘he’d have left me out again if he could. I’ve a good mind to spoil his plans. What does it matter whether we win or lose the match? I don’t care much which way it goes, and I’d like to see Foster taken down a peg or two. I’ll wait and see how our side shapes. I may be able to carry out a plan of my own.’

Had Edgar Foster doubted Rakes, he would not have asked him to play; but he could not understand any lad throwing away a chance of victory merely to spite the captain of the team. Such conduct Edgar would not have suspected even in Raymond Rakes.