And before there could be any answer to that, Jan had turned without ceremony into Heath’s, the saddler’s shop, where the boys bespoke flies to take them to their trains at the end of the term. As a rule these orders were booked weeks beforehand, but the fly that Jan now ordered was to be outside Mr. Heriot’s quad at 2.45 that afternoon. “Is it to go to Molton, sir?” “That’s it.” “But there’s no train before the 4.10, Mr. Rutter.” “I can’t help that. I was asked to order it for some people who’re down for the match. They may be going to see some of the sights of the country first.” Outside the shop, he found Evan waiting for him. “I say, Jan, what’s all this about your being seedy?” “That’s my business. Do you think I’m shamming?” Evan missed the twinkle again. There was some excuse for him. It was unintentional now. “I don’t know, but if I thought you were going yourself——” “Shut up, Evan! That’s all settled. You go in fourth wicket down again, and mind you make some.” “But if you’re seen——” “What on earth makes you think I’m going? I’ve fixed up the whole thing. That should be good enough. I thought you left it to me?” At Heriot’s corner, old Bob himself was standing in conversation with Mr. Haigh, the two of them mechanically returning the no less perfunctory salutes of the passing stream. Charles Cave had paused a moment before going on into the house. “I’m afraid the hero of the morning’s a bit off-colour, Mr. Heriot.” “Not Rutter?” Cave nodded. “He says his head’s bad. I think it must be. It looks to me like a touch of the sun.” “I hope not,” said Heriot, as Cave passed on. “He really is a fine fellow, Haigh, as well as the fine bowler you’ve just seen once more. I sometimes think you might forget what he was, after all these years.” “Oh, I’ve nothing against the fellow,” said Haigh, rather grandly. “But I take a boy as I find him, and I found Rutter the most infernal nuisance I ever had in my form.” “Years ago!” “Well, at all events, there’s no question of a grudge on my side. I wouldn’t condescend to bear a grudge against a boy.” Haigh spoke as though he really wished to mean what he said. His general principles were as sound as his heart could be kind, but both were influenced by a temper never meant for schoolmastering. At this moment Jan and Evan hove into sight, and Heriot detained the cricketer of his house, questioned him about his head, reassured himself as to a former authentic attack of measles, and finally agreed with Jan’s suggestion that he should stay quietly in his study until he felt fit to go back to the ground. He did not want any lunch. Meanwhile, Haigh had not gone off up the hill, but had stayed to put in a difficult word or two of his own, as though to prove the truth of his assertion to Heriot. He went further as Jan was about to turn down to the quad. “By the way, Rutter, I’ve a very good prescription for that kind of thing, now I think of it. I’ll send it up to you if you like.”