Ends were changed, and after a good deal of play without result Cookson's also scored a rooge, and matters were equal again; after which the Jolliffe team, which was the strongest physically, kept the ball entirely in the neighbourhood of the Cookson goals. For the latter had made great exertions, and were tiring fast. The time fixed for leaving off play was now approaching; and if they could only keep matters as they were a little longer they would make a drawn match of it, which would be of itself a triumph, considering that their opponents, with the redoubtable Crawley at their head, were reckoned so much the stronger.
"Come, we _must_ get one more rooge," said the Jolliffe captain, "and weak as they are getting we ought to turn it into a goal." And pursuing his determination he dribbled the ball up close to the base line, sent it behind the goal-posts, and rushed forward to touch it down. Edwards ran up to it at the same time to touch it first, and a collision ensued which sent him flying. Near that spot there was a tree with seats round it, and Edwards fell heavily with his side against a corner of this wooden settle. Crawley touched the ball down.
"You have given us all our work to get this!" he called out to the other, laughing; and then seeing that Edwards was lying on the ground, he added, "You are not hurt, old fellow, are you? Only blown?"
But as the other was not in the position in which any one would lie still a moment to get breath, he went up to him and repeated his question.
"I don't know; I--I feel rather queer," was the reply.
Crawley stooped, and put his arms round his body to raise him up, but Edwards shrieked out, "Ah! don't; that hurts!"
The other players now gathered round, and many offered well-meaning but absurd suggestions. One practical youth ran off, however, to Cookson's house to report what had happened, and then returned with a chair. By the time he got back Edwards had managed to rise, and was sitting on the settle, very faint. They managed to transfer him to the chair, and carried him home in it very gently, and by the time he was laid on his bed, which had been got ready, the doctor arrived. A couple of ribs were broken, he said, after an examination which made poor Edwards groan a good deal; but he did not think there was much more the matter, which words were a great comfort to Crawley, who began to fear that he might have been the cause of the boy's death. He was quite sufficiently sorry and vexed as it was, and would have liked to nurse him if he had been allowed.