here, and in the dingy back shop, all amongst the
dust and bluebottles, settled down to a thoughtful perusal of chapter
six.

Upstairs, at the same moment, the doctor was recommending that Master
John George, the son of the house, be kept warm and out of draughts
and not permitted to scratch himself, however necessary such an action
might seem to him. In brief, he was attending J. G. for chicken-pox.

Shoeblossom came away, entering the High Street furtively, lest
Authority should see him out of bounds, and returned to the school,
where he went about his lawful occasions as if there were no such
thing as chicken-pox in the world.

But all the while the microbe was getting in some unostentatious but
clever work. A week later Shoeblossom began to feel queer. He had
occasional headaches, and found himself oppressed by a queer distaste
for food. The professional advice of Dr. Oakes, the school doctor, was
called for, and Shoeblossom took up his abode in the Infirmary, where
he read _Punch_, sucked oranges, and thought of Life.

Two days later Barry felt queer. He, too, disappeared from Society.

Chicken-pox is no respecter of persons. The next victim was Marsh, of
the first eleven. Marsh, who was top of the school averages. Where
were his drives now, his late cuts that were wont to set the pavilion
in a roar. Wrapped in a blanket, and looking like the spotted marvel
of a travelling circus, he was driven across to the Infirmary in a
four-wheeler, and it became incumbent upon Burgess to select a
substitute for him.

And so it came about that Mike soared once again into the ranks of the
elect, and found his name down in the team to play against the
Incogniti.

CHAPTER XVIII

BOB HAS NEWS TO IMPART

Wrykyn went down badly before the Incogs. It generally happens at
least once in a school cricket season that the team collapses
hopelessly, for no apparent reason. Some schools do it in nearly every
match, but Wrykyn so far had been particularly fortunate this year.
They had only been beaten once, and that by a mere twenty odd runs in
a hard-fought game. But on this particular day, against a not
overwhelmingly strong side, they failed miserably. The weather may
have had something to do with it, for rain fell early in the morning,
and the school, batting first on the drying wicket, found themselves
considerably puzzled by a slow left-hander. Morris and Berridge left
with the score still short of ten, and after tha