a climb down. It couldn't be done.

What made it worse was that he saw, after watching behind the nets once
or twice, that Sedleigh cricket was not the childish burlesque of the
game which he had been rash enough to assume that it must be. Numbers do
not make good cricket. They only make the presence of good cricketers
more likely, by the law of averages.

Mike soon saw that cricket was by no means an unknown art at Sedleigh.
Adair, to begin with, was a very good bowler indeed. He was not a
Burgess, but Burgess was the only Wrykyn bowler whom, in his three
years' experience of the school, Mike would have placed above him. He
was a long way better than Neville-Smith, and Wyatt, and Milton, and the
others who had taken wickets for Wrykyn.

The batting was not so good, but there were some quite capable men.
Barnes, the head of Outwood's, he who preferred not to interfere with
Stone and Robinson, was a mild, rather timid-looking youth--not unlike
what Mr. Outwood must have been as a boy--but he knew how to keep balls
out of his wicket. He was a good bat of the old plodding type.

Stone and Robinson themselves, that swashbuckling pair, who now treated
Mike and Psmith with cold but consistent politeness, were both fair
batsmen, and Stone was a good slow bowler.

There were other exponents of the game, mostly in Downing's house.

Altogether, quite worthy colleagues even for a man who had been a star
at Wrykyn.

* * * * *

One solitary overture Mike made during that first fortnight. He did not
repeat the experiment.

It was on a Thursday afternoon, after school. The day was warm, but
freshened by an almost imperceptible breeze. The air was full of the
scent of the cut grass which lay in little heaps behind the nets. This
is the real cricket scent, which calls to one like the very voice of
the game.

Mike, as he sat there watching, could stand it no longer.

He went up to Adair.

"May I have an innings at this net?" he asked. He was embarrassed and
nervous, and was trying not to show it. The natural result was that his
manner was offensively abrupt.

Adair was taking off his pads after his innings. He looked up. "This
net," it may be observed, was the first eleven net.

"What?" he said.

Mike repeated his request. More abruptly this time, from increased
embarrassment.

"This is the first eleven net," said Adair coldly. "Go in after Lodge
over there."

"Over there" was the end