e had fed this late cut. Sent down a
couple which he put to the boundary. Then fired a third much faster
and a bit shorter. Chap had a go at it, just as he had expected: and
he felt that life was a good thing after all when the ball just
touched the corner of the bat and flew into Bob's hands. And Bob
dropped it!

The memory was too bitter. If he dwelt on it, he felt, he would get
insomnia. So he turned to pleasanter reflections: the yorker which had
shattered the second-wicket man, and the slow head-ball which had led
to a big hitter being caught on the boundary. Soothed by these
memories, he fell asleep.

Next morning he found himself in a softened frame of mind. He thought
of Bob's iniquities with sorrow rather than wrath. He felt towards him
much as a father feels towards a prodigal son whom there is still a
chance of reforming. He overtook Bob on his way to chapel.

Directness was always one of Burgess's leading qualities.

"Look here, Bob. About your fielding. It's simply awful."

Bob was all remorse.

"It's those beastly slip catches. I can't time them."

"That one yesterday was right into your hands. Both of them were."

"I know. I'm frightfully sorry."

"Well, but I mean, why _can't_ you hold them? It's no good being
a good bat--you're that all right--if you're going to give away runs
in the field."

"Do you know, I believe I should do better in the deep. I could get
time to watch them there. I wish you'd give me a shot in the deep--for
the second."

"Second be blowed! I want your batting in the first. Do you think
you'd really do better in the deep?"

"I'm almost certain I should. I'll practise like mad. Trevor'll hit me
up catches. I hate the slips. I get in the dickens of a funk directly
the bowler starts his run now. I know that if a catch does come, I
shall miss it. I'm certain the deep would be much better."

"All right then. Try it."

The conversation turned to less pressing topics.

* * * * *

In the next two matches, accordingly, Bob figured on the boundary,
where he had not much to do except throw the ball back to the bowler,
and stop an occasional drive along the carpet. The beauty of fielding
in the deep is that no unpleasant surprises can be sprung upon one.
There is just that moment or two for collecting one's thoughts which
makes the whole difference. Bob, as he stood regarding the game from
afar, found his self-confidence returning slowly, drop