'Tut, tut,' said Baker facetiously to the raging captain.

Baker's was essentially a flippant mind. Not even a moment of solemn
agony, such as this, was sacred to him.

Norris was icy and severe.

'If you want to rot about, Baker,' he said, 'perhaps you'd better go
and play stump-cricket with the juniors.'

'Well,' retorted Baker, with great politeness, 'I suppose seeing you
miss a gaper like that right into your hands made me think I was
playing stump-cricket with the juniors.'

At this point the conversation ceased, Baker suddenly remembering that
he had not yet received his First Eleven colours, and that it would
therefore be rash to goad the captain too freely, while Norris, for his
part, recalled the fact that Baker had promised to do some Latin verse
for him that evening, and might, if crushed with some scathing
repartee, refuse to go through with that contract. So there was silence
in the slips.

The partnership was broken at last by a lucky accident. The
conversationalist called his partner for a short run, and when that
unfortunate gentleman had sprinted some twenty yards, reconsidered the
matter and sent him back. Reece had the bails off before the victim had
completed a third of the return journey.

For some time after this matters began to favour the School again. With
the score at a hundred and five, three men left in two overs, one