Blackburn's took the field at three punctually on the followingafternoon, to play out the last act of the final house-match. Theywere not without some small hope of victory, for curious things happenat cricket, especially in the fourth innings of a match. And runs areadmitted to be easier saved than made. Yet seventy-nine seemed anabsurdly small score to try and dismiss a team for, and in view of thefact that that team contained a batsman like Fenn, it seemed smallerstill. But Jimmy Silver, resolutely as he had declared victoryimpossible to his intimate friends, was not the man to depress histeam by letting it become generally known that he consideredBlackburn's chances small.

　　"You must work like niggers in the field," he said; "don't give away arun. Seventy-nine isn't much to make, but if we get Fenn out for afew, they won't come near it."He did not add that in his opinion Fenn would take very good care thathe did not get out for a few. It was far more likely that he wouldmake that seventy-nine off his own bat in a dozen overs.

　　"You'd better begin, Kennedy," he continued, "from the top end. Placeyour men where you want 'em. I should have an extra man in the deep,if I were you. That's where Fenn kept putting them last innings. Andyou'll want a short leg, only for goodness sake keep them off theleg-side if you can. It's a safe four to Fenn every time if you don't.

　　Look out, you chaps. Man in."Kay's first pair were coming down the pavilion steps.

　　Challis, goingto his place at short slip, called Silver's attention to a remarkablefact.

　　"Hullo," he said, "why isn't Fenn coming in first?""What! By Jove, nor he is. That's queer. All the better for us. Youmight get a bit finer, Challis, in case they snick 'em."Wayburn, who had accompanied Fenn to the wicket at the beginning ofKay's first innings, had now for his partner one Walton, a large,unpleasant-looking youth, said to be a bit of a bruiser, and known tobe a black sheep. He was one of those who made life at Kay's so closean imitation of an Inferno. His cricket was of a rustic order. He hithard and high. When allowed to do so, he hit often. But, as a rule, heleft early, a prey to the slips or deep fields. Today was no exceptionto that rule.

　　Kennedy's first ball was straight and medium-paced. It was a littletoo short, however, and Walton, letting go at it with a semi-circularsweep like the drive of a golfer, sent it soaring over mid-on's headand over the boundary. Cheers from the pavilion.

　　Kennedy bowled his second ball with the same purposeful air, andWalton swept at it as before. There was a click, and Jimmy Silver, whowas keeping wicket, took the ball comfortably on a level with hischin.

　　"How's that?"The umpire's hand went up, and Walton went out--reluctantly, murmuringlegends of how he had not gone within a yard of the thing.

　　It was only when the next batsman who emerged from the pavilion turnedout to be his young brother and not Fenn, that Silver began to seethat something was wrong. It was conceivable that Fenn might havechosen to go in first wicket down instead of opening the batting, butnot that he should go in second wicket. If Kay's were to win it wasessential that he should begin to bat as soon as possible. Otherwisethere might be no time for him to knock off the runs. However good abatsman is, he can do little if no one can stay with him.

　　There was no time to question the newcomer. He must control hiscuriosity until the fall of the next wicket.

　　"Man in," he said.

　　Billy Silver was in many ways a miniature edition of his brother, andhe carried the resemblance into his batting. The head of Blackburn'swas stylish, and took no risks. His brother had not yet developed astyle, but he was very settled in his mind on the subject of risks.

　　There was no tempting him with half-volleys and long-hops. His mottowas defence, not defiance. He placed a straight bat in the path ofevery ball, and seemed to consider his duty done if he stopped it.

　　The remainder of the over was, therefore, quiet. Billy playedKennedy's fastest like a book, and left the more tempting ones alone.

　　Challis's first over realised a single, Wayburn snicking him to leg.

　　The first ball of Kennedy's second over saw him caught at the wicket,as Walton had been.

　　"Every _time_ a coconut," said Jimmy Silver complacently, as hewalked to the other end. "We're a powerful combination, Kennedy.

　　Where's Fenn? Does anybody know? Why doesn't he come in?"Billy Silver, seated on the grass by the side of the crease, fasteningthe top strap of one of his pads, gave tongue with the eagerness ofthe well-informed man.

　　"What, don't you know?" he said. "Why, there's been an awful row. Fennwon't be able to play till four o'clock. I believe he and Kay had arow last night, and he cheeked Kay, and the old man's given him a sortof extra. I saw him going over to the School House, and I heard himtell Wayburn that he wouldn't be able to play till four."The effect produced by this communication would be most fittinglyexpressed by the word "sensation" in brackets. It came as a completesurprise to everyone. It seemed to knock the bottom out of the wholematch. Without Fenn the thing would be a farce. Kay's would have nochance.

　　"What a worm that man is," said Kennedy. "Do you know, I had a sort ofidea Fenn wouldn't last out much longer. Kay's been ragging him allthe term. I went round to see him last night, and Kay behaved like abounder then. I expect Fenn had it out with him when they got indoors.

　　What a beastly shame, though.""Beastly," agreed Jimmy Silver. "Still, it can't be helped. The sinsof the house-master are visited on the house. I'm afraid it will beour painful duty to wipe the floor with Kay's this day. Speaking at aventure, I should say that we have got them where the hair's short.

　　Yea. Even on toast, if I may be allowed to use the expression. Who isthis coming forth now? Curtis, or me old eyes deceive me. And is notCurtis's record score three, marred by ten chances? Indeed yes. Afastish yorker should settle Curtis's young hash. Try one."Kennedy followed the recipe. A ball later the middle and leg stumpswere lying in picturesque attitudes some yards behind the crease, andCurtis was beginning that "sad, unending walk to the pavilion",thinking, with the poet,"Thou wast not made to play, infernal ball!"Blackburn's non-combatants, dotted round the boundary, shrieked theirapplause. Three wickets had fallen for five runs, and life was worthliving. Kay's were silent and gloomy.

　　Billy Silver continued to occupy one end in an immovable manner, butat the other there was no monotony. Man after man came in, padded andgloved, and looking capable of mighty things. They took guard, pattedthe ground lustily, as if to make it plain that they were going tostand no nonsense, settled their caps over their eyes, and prepared toreceive the ball. When it came it usually took a stump or two with itbefore it stopped. It was a procession such as the school grounds hadnot often seen. As the tenth man walked from the pavilion, foursounded from the clock over the Great Hall, and five minutes later theweary eyes of the supporters of Kay's were refreshed by the sight ofFenn making his way to the arena from the direction of the SchoolHouse.

　　Just as he arrived on the scene, Billy Silver's defence broke down.

　　One of Challis's slows, which he had left alone with the idea that itwas going to break away to the off, came in quickly instead, andremoved a bail. Billy Silver had only made eight; but, as the fullscore, including one bye, was only eighteen, this was above theaverage, and deserved the applause it received.

　　Fenn came in in the unusual position of eleventh man, with anexpression on his face that seemed to suggest that he meant business.

　　He was curiously garbed. Owing to the shortness of the intervalallowed him for changing, he had only managed to extend his cricketcostume as far as white buckskin boots. He wore no pads or gloves. Buteven in the face of these sartorial deficiencies, he looked like acricketer. The field spread out respectfully, and Jimmy Silver moved aman from the slips into the country.

　　There were three more balls of Challis's over, for Billy Silver'scollapse had occurred at the third delivery. Fenn mistimed the first.

　　Two hours' writing indoors does not improve the eye. The ball missedthe leg stump by an inch.

　　About the fifth ball he made no mistake. He got the full face of thebat to it, and it hummed past coverpoint to the boundary. The last ofthe over he put to leg for three.

　　A remarkable last-wicket partnership now took place, remarkable not somuch for tall scoring as for the fact that one of the partners did notreceive a single ball from beginning to end of it, with the exceptionof the one that bowled him. Fenn seemed to be able to do what hepleased with the bowling. Kennedy he played with a shade more respectthan the others, but he never failed to score a three or a single offthe last ball of each of his overs. The figures on the telegraph-boardrose from twenty to thirty, from thirty to forty, from forty to fifty.

　　Williams went on at the lower end instead of Challis, and Fenn madetwelve off his first over. The pavilion was filled with howlingenthusiasts, who cheered every hit in a frenzy.

　　Jimmy Silver began to look worried. He held a hasty consultation withKennedy. The telegraph-board now showed the figures 60--9--8.

　　"This won't do," said Silver. "It would be too foul to get lickedafter having nine of them out for eighteen. Can't you manage to keepFenn from scoring odd figures off the last ball of your over? If onlythat kid at the other end would get some of the bowling, we should doit.""I'll try," said Kennedy, and walked back to begin his over.

　　Fenn reached his fifty off the third ball. Seventy went up on theboard. Ten more and Kay's would have the cup. The fourth ball was toogood to hit. Fenn let it pass. The fifth he drove to the on. It was abig hit, but there was a fieldsman in the neighbourhood. Still, it wasan easy two. But to Kennedy's surprise Fenn sent his partner backafter they had run a single. Even the umpire was surprised. Fenn'spolicy was so obvious that it was strange to see him thus deliberatelyallow his partner to take a ball.

　　"That's not over, you know, Fenn," said the umpire--Lang, of theSchool House, a member of the first eleven.

　　Fenn looked annoyed. He had miscounted the balls, and now his partner,who had no pretensions to be considered a bat, would have to faceKennedy.

　　That mistake lost Kay's the match.

　　Impossible as he had found it to defeat Fenn, Kennedy had never losthis head or his length. He was bowling fully as well as he had done atthe beginning of the innings.

　　The last ball of the over beat the batsman all the way. He scoopedblindly forward, missed it by a foot, and the next moment the offstump lay flat. Blackburn's had won by seven runs.