|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 68
Mike did not answer the question, but asked one on his own account.
'How did you happen to be short?' he said.
'It was rotten luck. It was like this. We were altering our team after
the Sussex match, to bring in Ballard, Keene, and Willis. They couldn't
get down to Brighton, as the 'Varsity had a match, but there was
nothing on for them in the last half of the week, so they'd promised to
roll up.'
Ballard, Keene, and Willis were members of the Cambridge team, all very
capable performers and much in demand by the county, when they could
get away to play for it.
'Well?' said Mike.
'Well, we all came up by train from Brighton last night. But these
three asses had arranged to motor down from Cambridge early today, and
get here in time for the start. What happens? Why, Willis, who fancies
himself as a chauffeur, undertakes to do the driving; and naturally,
being an absolute rotter, goes and smashes up the whole concern just
outside St Albans. The first thing I knew of it was when I got to
Lord's at half past ten, and found a wire waiting for me to say that
they were all three of them crocked, and couldn't possibly play. I tell
you, it was a bit of a jar to get half an hour before the match
started. Willis has sprained his ankle, apparently; Keene's damaged his
wrist; and Ballard has smashed his collar-bone. I don't suppose they'll
be able to play in the 'Varsity match. Rotten luck for Cambridge. Well,
fortunately we'd had two reserve pros, with us at Brighton, who had
come up to London with the team in case they might be wanted, so, with
them, we were only one short. Then I thought of you. That's how it
was.'
'I see,' said Mike. 'Who are the pros?'
'Davis and Brockley. Both bowlers. It weakens our batting a lot.
Ballard or Willis might have got a stack of runs on this wicket. Still,
we've got a certain amount of batting as it is. We oughtn't to do
badly, if we're careful. You've been getting some practice, I suppose,
this season?'
'In a sort of a way. Nets and so on. No matches of any importance.'
'Dash it, I wish you'd had a game or two in decent class cricket.
Still, nets are better than nothing, I hope you'll be in form. We may
want a pretty long knock from you, if things go wrong. These men seem
to be settling down all right, thank goodness,' he added, looking out
of the window at the county's first pair, Warrington and Mills, two
professionals, who, as the result of ten minutes' play, had put up
twenty.
'I'd better go and change,' said Mike, picking up his bag. 'You're in
first wicket, I suppose?'
'Yes. And Reggie, second wicket.'
Reggie was another of Mike's brothers, not nearly so fine a player as
Joe, but a sound bat, who generally made runs if allowed to stay in.
Mike changed, and went out into the little balcony at the top of the
pavilion. He had it to himself. There were not many spectators in the
pavilion at this early stage of the game.
There are few more restful places, if one wishes to think, than the
upper balconies of Lord's pavilion. Mike, watching the game making its
leisurely progress on the turf below, set himself seriously to review
the situation in all its aspects. The exhilaration of bursting the
bonds had begun to fade, and he found himself able to look into the
matter of his desertion and weigh up the consequences. There was no
doubt that he had cut the painter once and for all. Even a
friendly-disposed management could hardly overlook what he had done.
And the management of the New Asiatic Bank was the very reverse of
friendly. Mr Bickersdyke, he knew, would jump at this chance of getting
rid of him. He realized that he must look on his career in the bank as
a closed book. It was definitely over, and he must now think about the
future.
It was not a time for half-measures. He could not go home. He must
carry the thing through, now that he had begun, and find something
definite to do, to support himself.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|