he room where the
players change.

"My dear boy," he said, "I've never been able to give you a gold watch,
but you must take mine; here it is, and--and God bless you!"

But the Duffer swore stoutly that he preferred his own Waterbury.

* * * * *

Eton went in to make 211 runs in four hours, upon a wicket almost as
sound as it had been upon the Friday. Scaife put the Duffer on to bowl.
The Demon had belief in luck.

"It's your day, Duffer," he said. "Pitch 'em up."

The Duffer, to his sire's exuberant satisfaction, "pitched 'em up" so
successfully that he took four wickets for 33. Four out of five! The
other bowlers, however, being not so successful, Eton accumulated a
hundred runs. The captains had agreed to draw stumps at 7.30. To win,
therefore, the Plain must make another hundred in two hours; and three
of their crack batsmen were out.

After tea an amazing change took place in the temper of the spectators.
Conviction seized them that the finish was likely to be close and
thrilling; that the one thing worth undivided attention was taking place
in the middle of the ground. As the minutes passed, a curious silence
fell upon the crowd, broken only by the cheers of the rival schools. The
boys, old and young alike, were watching every ball, every stroke. The
Eton captain was still in, playing steadily, not brilliantly; the Harrow
bowling was getting slack.

In the pavilion, the Rev. Septimus, Warde, and Charles Desmond were
sitting together. Not far from them was Scaife's father, a big, burly
man with a square head and heavy, strongly-marked features. He had never
been a cricketer, but this game gripped him. He sat next to a
world-famous financier of the great house of Neuchatel, whose sons had
been sent to the Hill. Run after run, run after run was added to the
score. Scaife's father turned to Neuchatel.

"I'd write a cheque for ten thousand pounds," he said, "if we could
win."

Lionel Neuchatel nodded. "Yes," he muttered; "I have not felt so excited
since Sir Bevis won the Derby."

In the deep field Desmond was standing, miserable because he had nothing
to do. No balls came his way; for the Eton captain had made up his mind
to win this match with singles and twos. Very carefully he placed his
balls between the fielders; very carefully his partner followed his
chief's example. No stealing of runs, no scoring off straight balls, no
gallery play--till victory was assured.

Poo