n't do better than that. Even I knocked him all over
the shop at White Ladies last summer."

"He's come on, they tell me," said the Caterpillar. "Good Lord, he
nearly had him first ball."

Fluff's brother bowled slows of a good length, with an awkward break from
the off to the leg.

"Teasers," said the Caterpillar, critically. "Hullo! No, my young
friend, that may do well enough in Shropshire, not here."

A ball breaking sharply from the off had struck the batsman's pad; he had
stepped in front of his wicket to cut it. Country umpires are often
beguiled by bowlers into giving wrong decisions in such cases, not so
your London expert. Cosmo Kinloch appealed--in vain.

"He'll send a short one down now," said John. "You see."

And, sure enough, a long hop came to the off, curling inwards after it
pitched. The Eton captain had nearly all his men on the off side. The
Harrovian pulled the ball right round to the boundary.

"Well hit!"

"Well pulled!"

"Two 4's; that's a good beginning," said the Duffer.

A couple of singles followed, and then the first "10" went up amid cheers.

"Here's my governor," said the Duffer. "He was three years in the Eleven
and Captain his last term."

"You've told us that a thousand times," said the Caterpillar.

The Rev. Septimus Duff greeted the boys warmly. His eyes sparkled out of
a cheery, bearded face. Look at him well. An Harrovian of the
Harrovians this. His grandfathers on the maternal and paternal side had
been friends at Harrow in Byron's time. The Rev. Septimus wore rather a
shabby coat and a terrible hat, but the consummate Caterpillar, who
respected pedigrees, regarded him with pride and veneration. He came up
from his obscure West Country vicarage to town just once a year--to see
the match. If you asked him, he would tell you quite simply that he
would sooner see the match and his old friends than go to Palestine; and
the Rev. Septimus has yearned to visit Palestine ever since he left
Cambridge; and it is not likely that this great wish will ever be
gratified. He is the father of three sons, but the Duffer is the first
to get into the Eleven. Charles Desmond joins them. At the moment,
Charles Desmond is supposed to be one of the most harried men in the
Empire. Times are troublous. A war-cloud, as large as Kruger's hand,
has just risen in the South, and is spreading itself over the whole
world. But to-day the great Minister has left the cares of of