e wrong, and suppose
after all Wyndham were not the culprit, what grievous wrong would he be
doing him by admitting even his suspicion! He composed himself with an
effort, and turning, replied, "Excuse me, Bloomfield, I've told you I
can say nothing at present, and it is really useless to say any more
about it."

Bloomfield departed, perplexed and angry. His anger was partly because
he could not help feeling that Riddell was in the right; and his
perplexity was to know what to think of it all, and whether his guess
about young Wyndham was near the mark or not.

"Well," inquired Game, who with one or two of the most ardent Parretts
was eagerly waiting his return. "Have you got it out of him?"

"No," said Bloomfield, "he won't tell me."

"The cad!" exclaimed Game. "Why ever not?"

"He says he's not sure, that's why," said Bloomfield; "but it's my
private opinion he's shielding some one or other."

"Of course he is," said Ashley. "I shouldn't wonder if he's known who
it is all along."

"Anyhow," said Tipper, "he ought to be made to clear it up, or else pay
up for it. I know I'll cut him dead next time I see him."

"So shall we," replied one or two others.

"He won't afflict himself much about that," said Bloomfield; "if I were
sure he didn't want to shirk it I'd be inclined to give him a day or two
before doing anything."

"What's the use? Of course he wants to shirk it," said Game, "and
thinks it will blow over if it goes long enough. I'll take precious
good care it doesn't, though."

"Upon my honour," said Ashley, "I never expected Willoughby would _come_
to this pass. It was bad enough to have a coward and a fool as captain,
but it's rather too much when he turns out to be a cheat too!"

"And to think that he ever got stuck in the first eleven," said Tipper.
"I told you, Bloomfield, he'd be no credit to you."

"He caught out that best man of theirs," said Bloomfield.

"Bah! I'd sooner have lost the match twice over," exclaimed Game, "than
win it with his help!"

And so these estimable young gentlemen, satisfied that they alone were
the glory and support of Willoughby, disposed in their own minds of
their wicked captain, and thanked their lucky stars they were made of
nobler stuff and loftier principle.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

WYNDHAM MAKES A FINAL VENTURE.

If any proof had been needed that young Wyndham was "down," as the
Parrett's fellows termed it, the fact that he did not put in