pads and went to the wicket, while Marjory and the dogs
retired as usual to the far hedge to retrieve.

She was kept busy. Saunders was a good sound bowler of the M.C.C. minor
match type, and there had been a time when he had worried Mike
considerably, but Mike had been in the Wrykyn team for three seasons
now, and each season he had advanced tremendously in his batting. He had
filled out in three years. He had always had the style, and now he had
the strength as well, Saunder's bowling on a true wicket seemed simple
to him. It was early in the Easter holidays, but already he was
beginning to find his form. Saunders, who looked on Mike as his own
special invention, was delighted.

"If you don't be worried by being too anxious now that you're captain,
Master Mike," he said, "you'll make a century every match next term."

"I wish I wasn't; it's a beastly responsibility."

Henfrey, the Wrykyn cricket captain of the previous season, was not
returning next term, and Mike was to reign in his stead. He liked the
prospect, but it certainly carried with it a rather awe-inspiring
responsibility. At night sometimes he would lie awake, appalled by the
fear of losing his form, or making a hash of things by choosing the
wrong men to play for the school and leaving the right men out. It is no
light thing to captain a public school at cricket.

As he was walking toward the house, Phyllis met him. "Oh, I've been
hunting for you, Mike; Father wants you."

"What for?"

"I don't know."

"Where?"

"He's in the study. He seems ..." added Phyllis, throwing in the
information by a way of a makeweight, "in a beastly temper."

Mike's jaw fell slightly. "I hope the dickens it's nothing to do with
that bally report," was his muttered exclamation.

Mike's dealings with his father were as a rule of a most pleasant
nature. Mr. Jackson was an understanding sort of man, who treated his
sons as companions. From time to time, however, breezes were apt to
ruffle the placid sea of good fellowship. Mike's end-of-term report was
an unfailing wind raiser; indeed, on the arrival of Mr. Blake's
sarcastic resume of Mike's shortcomings at the end of the previous term,
there had been something not unlike a typhoon. It was on this occasion
that Mr. Jackson had solemnly declared his intention of removing Mike
from Wrykyn unless the critics became more flattering; and Mr. Jackson
was a man of his word.

It was with a certain amount of apprehension, the