"He's just come to Wain's. He's Bob Jackson's brother, and I've a sort
of idea that he's a bit of a bat. I told him I'd ask you if he could
have a knock. Why not send him in at the end net? There's nobody there
now."

Burgess's amiability off the field equalled his ruthlessness when
bowling.

"All right," he said. "Only if you think that I'm going to sweat to
bowl to him, you're making a fatal error."

"You needn't do a thing. Just sit and watch. I rather fancy this kid's
something special."

* * * * *

Mike put on Wyatt's pads and gloves, borrowed his bat, and walked
round into the net.

"Not in a funk, are you?" asked Wyatt, as he passed.

Mike grinned. The fact was that he had far too good an opinion of
himself to be nervous. An entirely modest person seldom makes a good
batsman. Batting is one of those things which demand first and
foremost a thorough belief in oneself. It need not be aggressive, but
it must be there.

Wyatt and the professional were the bowlers. Mike had seen enough of
Wyatt's bowling to know that it was merely ordinary "slow tosh," and
the professional did not look as difficult as Saunders. The first