first ball."

Frank Hargate leaped to his feet, and, laying aside for the present
all thoughts of his favorite pursuit, started off at a run to the
playing field. His arrival there was greeted with a mingled chorus
of welcome and indignation. Frank Hargate was, next to Thompson the
captain of the Town eleven, the best bat among the home boarders.
He played a steady rather than a brilliant game, and was noted as
a good sturdy sticker. Had he been there, Thompson would have put
him in at first, in order to break the bowling of the House team.
As it was, misfortunes had come rapidly. Ruthven and Handcock were
bowling splendidly, and none of the Town boys were making any stand
against them. Thompson himself had gone in when the fourth wicket
fell, and was still in, although two wickets had since fallen, for
only four runs, and the seventh wicket fell just as Frank arrived,
panting, on the ground.

"Confound you, Hargate!" Thompson shouted, "where have you been?
And not even in flannels yet."

"I'm very sorry," Frank shouted back cheerfully, "and never mind
the flannels, for once. Shall I come in now?"

"No," Thompson said. "You'd better get your wind first. Let Fenner
come in next."

Fenner stayed in four overs, adding two singles as his share,
while Thompson put on a three and a two. Then Fenner was caught.
Thirty-one runs for eight wickets! Then Frank took the bat, and
walked to the ground. Thompson came across to him.