September came, and with it football again. And from the first match it was seen that Sailor Harper, which was the name the whole town called him now, had taken a long stride to the front. By the end of that month his place in the first team was secure, and his fame was in the mouth of everybody.
For many years, in Mr. Augustus Higginbottom's judgment--and there could be none higher--the one need of the Blackhampton Rovers had been a goalkeeper of Class. They had one now. The Sailor was performing miracles in every match, and Ginger, his mentor, was going about with a permanent expression of, "What did I tell yer?" upon a preternaturally sharp and freckled countenance.
Ginger did not allow the grass to grow under his own feet either. He was now installed as billiards marker and general factotum at the Crown and Cushion; in fact he had already come to occupy quite a place at court. But even this was not the limit of that vaulting ambition, which was twofold: (1) to be the official right full back of the Blackhampton Rovers; (2) the acquisition of a tobacconist's shop in the vicinity of the Crown and Cushion. But the latter scheme belonged, of course, to the distant future.
Ginger was far-sighted, such had always been Dinkie Dawson's opinion, and Dinkie did not speak unless he knew. Therefore little surprise was caused by a startling rumor at the beginning of November of Ginger's engagement to Miss Maria Higginbottom. And it was coincident with Ginger's "making good" with the Rovers' first team.
It was said that the engagement had not the sanction of the chairman of the club. Nevertheless Ginger kept his place as general factotum at the Crown and Cushion; moreover, as understudy to Joe Pretyman who had been smitten with water on the knee, he stepped into the breach with such gallantry that the first part of his ambition was soon assured. By sheer fighting power, by his sovereign faculty of never knowing when he was beaten, Ginger in the first week of December was in a position that nature could hardly have meant him to grace.
"Blame my cats," said Mr. Augustus Higginbottom, whose thoughts were a little rueful. "That Ginger's mustard. He plays better an' better in every match."
