gles, to a hundred.

At a hundred and four, when the wicket had put on exactly fifty, Bob
fell to a combination of de Freece and extra-cover. He had stuck like
a limpet for an hour and a quarter, and made twenty-one.

Mike watched him go with much the same feelings as those of a man who
turns away from the platform after seeing a friend off on a long
railway journey. His departure upset the scheme of things. For himself
he had no fear now. He might possibly get out off his next ball, but
he felt set enough to stay at the wickets till nightfall. He had had
narrow escapes from de Freece, but he was full of that conviction,
which comes to all batsmen on occasion, that this was his day. He had
made twenty-six, and the wicket was getting easier. He could feel the
sting going out of the bowling every over.

Henfrey, the next man in, was a promising rather than an effective
bat. He had an excellent style, but he was uncertain. (Two years
later, when he captained the Wrykyn teams, he made a lot of runs.) But
this season his batting had been spasmodic.

To-day he never looked like settling down. He survived an over from de
Freece, and hit a fast change bowler who had been put on at the other
end for a couple of fluky fours. Then Mike got the bowling for three
consecutive overs, and raised the score to a hundred and twenty-six. A
bye brought Henfrey to the batting end again, and de Freece's pet
googly, which had not been much in evidence hitherto, led to his
snicking an easy catch into short-slip's hands.

A hundred and twenty-seven for seven against a total of a hundred and
sixty-six gives the impression that the batting side has the
advantage. In the present case, however, it was Ripton who were really
in the better position. Apparently, Wrykyn had three more wickets to
fall. Practically they had only one, for neither Ashe, nor Grant, nor
Devenish had any pretensions to be considered batsmen. Ashe was the
school wicket-keeper. Grant and Devenish were bowlers. Between them
the three could not be relied on for a dozen in a decent match.

Mike watched Ashe shape with a sinking heart. The wicket-keeper looked
like a man who feels that his hour has come. Mike could see him
licking his lips. There was nervousness written all over him.

He was not kept long in suspense. De Freece's first ball made a
hideous wreck of his wicket.

"Over," said the umpire.

Mike felt that the school's one chance now lay in his keeping the
bowl