One’s opinion of this type of youth varies according to one’s point of view. Small boys whom they had occasion to kick, either from pure high spirits or as a punishment for some slip from the narrow path which the ideal small boy should tread, regarded Stone and Robinson as bullies of the genuine “Eric” and “St. Winifred’s” brand. Masters were rather afraid of them. Adair had a smouldering dislike for them. They were useful at cricket, but apt not to take Sedleigh as seriously as he could have wished. As for Mike, he now found them pleasant company, and began to get out the tea-things. “Those Fire Brigade meetings,” said Stone, “are a rag. You can do what you like, and you never get more than a hundred lines.” “Don’t you!” said Mike. “I got Saturday afternoon.” “What!” “Is Wilson in too?” “No. He got a hundred lines.” Stone and Robinson were quite concerned. “What a beastly swindle!” “That’s because you don’t play cricket. Old Downing lets you do what you like if you join the Fire Brigade and play cricket.” “‘We are, above all, a keen school,’” quoted Stone. “Don’t you ever play?” “I have played a bit,” said Mike. “Well, why don’t you have a shot? We aren’t such flyers here. If you know one end of a bat from the other, you could get into some sort of a team. Were you at school anywhere before you came here?” “I was at Wrykyn.” “Why on earth did you leave?” asked Stone. “Were you sacked?” “No. My pater took me away.” “Wrykyn?” said Robinson. “Are you any relation of the Jacksons there--J. W. and the others?” “Brother.” “What!” “Well, didn’t you play at all there?” “Yes,” said Mike, “I did. I was in the team three years, and I should have been captain this year, if I’d stopped on.” There was a profound and gratifying sensation. Stone gaped, and Robinson nearly dropped his tea-cup. Stone broke the silence. “But I mean to say--look here! What I mean is, why aren’t you playing? Why don’t you play now?” “I do. I play for a village near here. Place called Little Borlock. A man who played against Wrykyn for the Free Foresters captains them. He asked me if I’d like some games for them.” “But why not for the school?” “Why should I? It’s much better fun for the village. You don’t get ordered about by Adair, for a start.” “Adair sticks on side,” said Stone. “Enough for six,” agreed Robinson. “By Jove,” said Stone, “I’ve got an idea. My word, what a rag!” “What’s wrong now?” inquired Mike politely. “Why, look here. To-morrow’s Mid-term Service day. It’s nowhere near the middle of the term, but they always have it in the fourth week. There’s chapel at half-past nine till half-past ten. Then the rest of the day’s a whole holiday. There are always house matches. We’re playing Downing’s. Why don’t you play and let’s smash them?” “By Jove, yes,” said Robinson. “Why don’t you? They’re always sticking on side because they’ve won the house cup three years running. I say, do you bat or bowl?” “Bat. Why?”