"
"No, sir," said Gus, with a half sigh merging into a half smile, "though
I did think of going down to the Acres, and looking at the footer."
"I'm glad of that," said Taylor, as though he really were. "I promised to
referee this afternoon--Hargon's _v_. Sharpe's--but I want to cry
off now. Neuralgia, Todd, is simply torturing me this moment, and
refereeing wouldn't improve it. Do you mind taking my place? Do please
say 'No' if you'd rather not."
"Very sorry, sir," said Gus, referring to the neuralgia. "Referee!"
"Yes," said Taylor, with a ghost of a smile at Todd's astonishment.
"Certainly, I will, sir--I mean I'll take your place. But the fellows
will gasp when I step into the arena."
"Thank you, Todd. Why will they gasp?"
"Footer isn't my line, sir."
"Hasn't been, Todd. Anyhow, they'll be delighted when you whistle them
up."
"I hope they'll be delighted when I've finished, sir," said Gus,
doubtfully.
"One side won't, of course," said Taylor, cheerfully. "That is natural,
and the usual thing. Do you know, I never played football, but I like
refereeing immensely. Positive it's the best thing after playing, and I
know that a really first-class referee is a very rare fowl. Of course
it's the off-side rule and, etc."
Taylor delivered himself of a little homily on the subject of refereeing.
He was enthusiastic almost to the point of forgetting his neuralgia, and
Todd got quite interested in the theme so earnestly handled.
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