increased. The club grew daily. Some Limpets joined it, and even a few
seniors. There was some talk of a first eleven to play in the house
matches, while by this time the second-eleven was an accomplished fact,
its members thirsting for the day when they should match their prowess
against the Parretts or schoolhouse juniors.

The election, as I have said, had rudely interrupted all this healthy
preparation, and for a moment it seemed to Riddell as if all his new
hold on his boys had disappeared. But that event once over, great was
his relief to find that they returned to the sport with unabated and
even increased ardour.

That week Welch's had out for the first time two sets of wickets, and
even thus could hardly keep going all who wanted to play.

"I tell you what," said Bloomfield, one afternoon, as, with his friend
Ashley, he was quietly looking on, while pretending not to do so, "say
what you will, Riddell doesn't do badly at slip. Watch this over."

As it happened, Mr Parrett was bowling down some rather swift balls to
the boy who was batting, with a little break from the off, which the
batsman seemed unable to play in any manner but by sending them among
the slips. So that, during the over, Riddell, blissfully unconscious of
the critical eyes that were upon him, had a busy time of it. And so
well did he pick the balls up that the two spies stayed to watch another
over, and after that another, at the close of which Bloomfield said,
"Upon my word, it's not half bad. And a slip's the very man we want to
make up the eleven for Rockshire."

"My dear fellow," said Ashley, in tones almost of alarm, "you're surely
not thinking of putting a fellow like that into the eleven."

"I don't care much who goes in so long as he can play," said Bloomfield.

"But fancy the fellow's bumptiousness if he gets stuck into the team!
He's bad enough as it is," said Ashley.

"We've got the schoolhouse fellows to look at," said Bloomfield, "_come_
along. If they've any one better we'll take him, but we _must_ get hold
of the best man."

So off they went, and the Welchers' practice continued gaily till the
bell for call-over sounded.

"Riddell," said Cusack, who had become captain's fag since the migration
to Welch's, "there's a letter for you."

"Where?" asked the captain.

"On your table. I saw it there when I was sticking away your pens just
now."

"You may as well bring it," said Riddell; "I am going to the libr