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“Scratch!” said Clephane. “Don’t you wish we would! My good chap, we’re going to get the cup.”

“You needn’t be a funny ass,” said Henfrey in his complaining voice, “we really are awfully pushed. As it is we shall have to settle the opening rounds on the first innings. That’s to say, we can only give ’em a day each; if they don’t finish, the winner of the first innings wins. You might as well scratch.”

“I can’t help your troubles. By rotten mismanagement you have got the house-matches crowded up into the last ten days of term, and you come and expect me to sell a fine side like Shields’ to get you out of the consequences of your reckless act. My word, Henfrey, you’ve sunk pretty low. Nice young fellow Henfrey was at one time, but seems to have got among bad companions. Quite changed now. Avoid him as much as I can. Leave me, Henfrey, I would be alone.”

“But you can’t raise a team.”

“Raise a team! Do you happen to know that half the house is biting itself with agony because we can’t find room for all? Shields gives stump-cricket soirees in his study after prep. One every time you hit the ball, two into the bowl of goldfish, and out if you smash the microscope.”

“Well,” said Henfrey viciously, “if you want to go through the farce of playing one round and making idiots of yourselves, you’ll have to wait a bit. You’ve got a bye in the first round.”

Clephane told the news to Mansfield after tea. “I’ve been and let the house in for a rollicking time,” he said, abstracting the copy of Latin verses which his friend was doing, and sitting on them to ensure undivided attention to his words. “Wanting to score off old Henfrey–I have few pleasures–I told him that Shields’ was not going to scratch. So we are booked to play in the second round of the housers. We drew a bye for the first. It would be an awful rag if we could do something. We must raise a team of some sort. Henfrey would score so if we didn’t. Who’s there, d’you think, that can play?”

Mansfield considered the question thoughtfully. “They all play, I suppose,” he said slowly, “if you can call it playing. What I mean to say is, cricket’s compulsory here, so I suppose they’ve all had an innings or two at one time or another in the eightieth game or so. But if you want record-breakers, I shouldn’t trust to Shields’ too much.”

“Not a bit. So long as we put a full team into the field, that’s all I care about. I’ve often wondered what it’s like to go in first and bowl unchanged the whole time.”

“You’ll do that all right,” said Mansfield. “I should think Shields’ bowling ran to slow grubs, to judge from the look of ’em. You’d better go and see Wilkins about raising the team. As head of the house, he probably considers himself captain of cricket.”

Wilkins, however, took a far more modest view of his position. The notion of leading a happy band of cricketers from Shields’ into the field had, it seemed, small attractions for him. But he went so far as to get a house list, and help choose a really representative team. And as details about historic teams are always welcome, we may say that the averages ranged from 3.005 to 8.14. This last was Wilkins’ own and was, as he would have been the first to admit, substantially helped by a contribution of nineteen in a single innings in the fifth game.

So the team was selected, and Clephane turned out after school next day to give them a little fielding-practice. To his surprise the fielding was not so outrageous as might have been expected. All the simpler catches were held, and one or two of the harder as well. Given this form on the day of their appearance in public, and Henfrey might be disappointed when he came to watch and smile sarcastically. A batting fiasco is not one half so ridiculous as maniac fielding.