[14]
NORRIS TAKES A SHORT HOLIDAY
'It's all rot,' observed Pringle, 'to say that they haven't a chance,because they have.'
He and Lorimer were passing through the cricket-field on their way backfrom an early morning visit to the baths, and had stopped to look atLeicester's House team (revised version) taking its daily hour offielding practice. They watched the performance keenly and critically,as spies in an enemy's camp.
'Who said they hadn't a chance?' said Lorimer. 'I didn't.'
'Oh, everybody. The chaps call them the Kindergarten and the Kids'Happy League, and things of that sort. Rot, I call it. They seem toforget that you only want two or three really good men in a team if therest can field. Look at our crowd. They've all either got theircolours, or else are just outside the teams, and I swear you can't relyon one of them to hold the merest sitter right into his hands.'
On the subject of fielding in general, and catching in particular,Pringle was feeling rather sore. In the match which his House had justwon against Browning's, he had put himself on to bowl in the secondinnings. He was one of those bowlers who manage to capture from six toten wickets in the course of a season, and the occasions on which hebowled really well were few. On this occasion he had bowledexcellently, and it had annoyed him when five catches, five soft,gentle catches, were missed off him in the course of four overs. As hewatched the crisp, clean fielding which was shown by the very smallestof Leicester's small 'tail', he felt that he would rather have any ofthat despised eight on his side than any of the School House lightsexcept Baynes and Lorimer.
'Our lot's all right, really,' said Lorimer, in answer to Pringle'ssweeping condemnation. 'Everybody has his off days. They'll be allright next match.'
'Doubt it,' replied Pringle. 'It's all very well for you. You bowl tohit the sticks. I don't. Now just watch these kids for a moment. Now!Look! No, he couldn't have got to that. Wait a second. Now!'
Gethryn had skied one into the deep. Wilson, Burgess, and Carstairs allstarted for it.
'Burgess,' called the Bishop.
The other two stopped dead. Burgess ran on and made the catch.
'Now, there you are,' said Pringle, pointing his moral, 'see how thosetwo kids stopped when Gethryn called. If that had happened in one ofour matches, you'd have had half a dozen men rotting about underneaththe ball, and getting in one another's way, and then probably windingup by everybody leaving the catch to everybody else.'
'Oh, come on,' said Lorimer, 'you're getting morbid. Why the dickensdidn't you think of having our fellows out for fielding practice, ifyou're so keen on it?'
'They wouldn't have come. When a chap gets colours, he seems to thinkhe's bought the place. You can't drag a Second Eleven man out of hisbed before breakfast to improve his fielding. He thinks it can't beimproved. They're a heart-breaking crew.'
'Good,' said Lorimer, 'I suppose that includes me?'
'No. You're a model man. I have seen you hold a catch now and then.'
'Thanks. Oh, I say, I gave in the poem yesterday. I hope the deuce itwon't get the prize. I hope they won't spot, either, that I didn'twrite the thing.'
'Not a chance,' said Pringle complacently, 'you're all right. Don't youworry yourself.'
Webster's, against whom Leicester's had been drawn in the opening roundof the House matches, had three men in their team, and only three, whoknew how to hold a bat. It was the slackest House in the School, andalways had been. It did not cause any overwhelming surprise,accordingly, when Leicester's beat them without fatigue by an inningsand a hundred and twenty-one runs. Webster's won the toss, and madethirty-five. For Leicester's, Reece and Gethryn scored fifty andsixty-two respectively, and Marriott fifty-three not out. They then,with two wickets down, declared, and rattled Webster's out for seventy.The public, which had had its eye on the team, in order to see how itstail was likely to shape, was disappointed. The only definite fact thatcould be gleaned from the match was that the junior members of the teamwere not to be despised in the field. The early morning field-outs hadhad their effect. Adams especially shone, while Wilson at cover andBurgess in the deep recalled Jessop and Tyldesley.
The School made a note of the fact. So did the Bishop. He summoned theeight juniors _seriatim_ to his study, and administered muchpraise, coupled with the news that fielding before breakfast would goon as usual.
Leicester's had drawn against Jephson's in the second round. Norris'slot had beaten Cooke's by, curiously enough, almost exactly the samemargin as that by which Leicester's had defeated Webster's. It wasgenerally considered that this match would decide Leicester's chancesfor the cup. If they could beat a really hot team like Jephson's, itwas reasonable to suppose that they would do the same to the rest ofthe Houses, though the School House would have to be reckoned with. Butthe School House, as Pringle had observed, was weak in the field. Itwas not a coherent team. Individually its members were good, but theydid not play together as Leicester's did.
But the majority of the School did not think seriously of theirchances. Except for Pringle, who, as has been mentioned before, alwaysmade a point of thinking differently from everyone else, no one reallybelieved that they would win the cup, or even appear in the final. Howcould a team whose tail began at the fall of the second wicket defeatteams which, like the School House, had no real tail at all?
Norris supported this view. It was for this reason that when, atbreakfast on the day on which Jephson's were due to play Leicester's,he received an invitation from one of his many uncles to spend aweekend at his house, he decided to accept it.
This uncle was a man of wealth. After winning two fortunes on the StockExchange and losing them both, he had at length amassed a third, withwhich he retired in triumph to the country, leaving Throgmorton Streetto exist as best it could without him. He had bought a 'show-place' ata village which lay twenty miles by rail to the east of Beckford, andit had always been Norris's wish to see this show-place, a house whichwas said to combine the hoariest of antiquity with a variety of moderncomforts.
Merely to pay a flying visit there would be good. But his uncle heldout an additional attraction. If Norris could catch the one-forty fromHorton, he would arrive just in time to take part in a cricket match,that day being the day of the annual encounter with the neighbouringvillage of Pudford. The rector of Pudford, the opposition captain, sowrote Norris's uncle, had by underhand means lured down three reallydecent players from Oxford--not Blues, but almost--who had come to thevillage ostensibly to read classics with him as their coach, but inreality for the sole purpose of snatching from Little Bindlebury (hisown village) the laurels they had so nobly earned the year before. Hehad heard that Norris was captaining the Beckford team this year, andhad an average of thirty-eight point nought three two, so would he comeand make thirty-eight point nought three two for Little Bindlebury?
'This,' thought Norris, 'is Fame. This is where I spread myself. I mustbe in this at any price.'
He showed the letter to Baker.
'What a pity,' said Baker.
'What's a pity?'
'That you won't be able to go. It seems rather a catch.'
'Can't go?' said Norris; 'my dear sir, you're talking through your hat.Think I'm going to refuse an invitation like this? Not if I know it.I'm going to toddle off to Jephson, get an exeat, and catch thatone-forty. And if I don't paralyse the Pudford bowling, I'll shootmyself.'
'But the House match! Leicester's! This afternoon!' gurgled the amazedBaker.
'Oh, hang Leicester's. Surely the rest of you can lick the Kids' HappyLeague without my help. If you can't, you ought to be ashamed ofyourselves. I've chosen you a wicket with my own hands, fit to play atest match on.'
'Of course we ought to lick them. But you can never tell at cricketwhat's going to happen. We oughtn't to run any risks when we've gotsuch a good chance of winning the pot. Why, it's centuries since we wonthe pot. Don't you go.'
'I must, man. It's the chance of a lifetime.'
Baker tried anot
her method of attack.
'Besides,' he said, 'you don't suppose Jephson'll let you off to playin a beastly little village game when there's a House match on?'
'He must never know!' hissed Norris, after the manner of theSurrey-side villain.
'He's certain to ask why you want to get off so early.'
'I shall tell him my uncle particularly wishes me to come early.'
'Suppose he asks why?'
'I shall say I can't possibly imagine.'
'Oh, well, if you're going to tell lies--'
'Not at all. Merely a diplomatic evasion. I'm not bound to go and sobout my secrets on Jephson's waistcoat.'
Baker gave up the struggle with a sniff. Norris went to Mr Jephson andgot leave to spend the week-end at his uncle's. The interview wentwithout a hitch, as Norris had prophesied.
'You will miss the House match, Norris, then?' said Mr Jephson.
'I'm afraid so, sir. But Mr Leicester's are very weak.'
'H'm. Reece, Marriott, and Gethryn are a good beginning.'
'Yes, sir. But they've got nobody else. Their tail starts after thosethree.'
'Very well. But it seems a pity.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Norris, wisely refraining from discussing thematter. He had got his exeat, which was what he had come for.
In all the annals of Pudford and Little Bindlebury cricket there hadnever been such a match as that year's. The rector of Pudford and histhree Oxford experts performed prodigies with the bat, prodigies, thatis to say, judged from the standpoint of ordinary Pudford scoring,where double figures were the exception rather than the rule.
The rector, an elderly, benevolent-looking gentleman, played withastounding caution and still more remarkable luck for seventeen.Finally, after he had been in an hour and ten minutes, mid-on acceptedthe eighth easy chance offered to him, and the ecclesiastic had toretire. The three 'Varsity men knocked up a hundred between them, andthe complete total was no less than a hundred and thirty-four.
Then came the sensation of the day. After three wickets had fallen forten runs, Norris and the Little Bindlebury curate, an old Cantab,stayed together and knocked off the deficit.
Norris's contribution of seventy-eight not out was for many a day thesole topic of conversation over the evening pewter at the 'LittleBindlebury Arms'. A non-enthusiast, who tried on one occasion tointroduce the topic of Farmer Giles's grey pig, found himself the mostunpopular man in the village.
On the Monday morning Norris returned to Jephson's, with pride in hisheart and a sovereign in his pocket, the latter the gift of hisexcellent uncle.
He had had, he freely admitted to himself, a good time. His uncle haddone him well, exceedingly well, and he looked forward to going to theshow-place again in the near future. In the meantime he felt a languiddesire to know how the House match was going on. They must almost havefinished the first innings, he thought--unless Jephson's had run up avery big score, and kept their opponents in the field all theafternoon.
'Hullo, Baker,' he said, tramping breezily into the study, 'I've hadthe time of a lifetime. Great, simply! No other word for it. How's thematch getting on?'
Baker looked up from the book he was reading.
'What match?' he enquired coldly.
'House match, of course, you lunatic. What match did you think I meant?How's it going on?'
'It's not going on,' said Baker, 'it's stopped.'
'You needn't be a funny goat,' said Norris complainingly. 'You knowwhat I mean. What happened on Saturday?'
'They won the toss,' began Baker slowly.
'Yes?'
'And went in and made a hundred and twenty.'
'Good. I told you they were no use. A hundred and twenty's rotten.'
'Then we went in, and made twenty-one.'
'Hundred and twenty-one.'
'No. Just a simple twenty-one without any trimmings of any sort.'
'But, man! How? Why? How on earth did it happen?'
'Gethryn took eight for nine. Does that seem to make it any clearer?'
'Eight for nine? Rot.'
'Show you the score-sheet if you care to see it. In the secondinnings--'
'Oh, you began a second innings?'
'Yes. We also finished it. We scored rather freely in the secondinnings. Ten was on the board before the fifth wicket fell. In the endwe fairly collared the bowling, and ran up a total of forty-eight.'
Norris took a seat, and tried to grapple with the situation.
'Forty-eight! Look here, Baker, swear you're not ragging.'
Baker took a green scoring-book from the shelf and passed it to him.
'Look for yourself,' he said.
Norris looked. He looked long and earnestly. Then he handed the bookback.
'Then they've won!' he said blankly.
'How do you guess these things?' observed Baker with some bitterness.
'Well, you are a crew,' said Norris. 'Getting out for twenty-one andforty-eight! I see Gethryn got nine for thirty in the second innings.He seems to have been on the spot. I suppose the wicket suited him.'
'If you can call it a wicket. Next time you specially select a pitchfor the House to play on, I wish you'd hunt up something with someslight pretensions to decency.'
'Why, what was wrong with the pitch? It was a bit worn, that was all.'
'If,' said Baker, 'you call having holes three inches deep just whereevery ball pitches being a bit worn, I suppose it was. Anyhow, it wouldhave been almost as well, don't you think, if you'd stopped and playedfor the House, instead of going off to your rotten village match? Youwere sick enough when Gethryn went off in the M.C.C. match.'
'Oh, curse,' said Norris.
For he had been hoping against hope that the parallel nature of the twoincidents would be less apparent to other people than it was tohimself.
And so it came about that Leicester's passed successfully through thefirst two rounds and soared into the dizzy heights of the semi-final.