Mike walked across from Wain’s, where he had changed, feeling quite hollow. He could almost have cried with pure fright. Bob had shouted after him from a window as he passed Donaldson’s, to wait, so that they could walk over together; but conversation was the last thing Mike desired at that moment. He had almost reached the pavilion when one of the M.C.C. team came down the steps, saw him, and stopped dead. “By Jove, Saunders!” cried Mike. “Why, Master Mike!” The professional beamed, and quite suddenly, the lost, hopeless feeling left Mike. He felt as cheerful as if he and Saunders had met in the meadow at home, and were just going to begin a little quiet net-practice. “Why, Master Mike, you don’t mean to say you’re playing for the school already?” Mike nodded happily. “Isn’t it ripping,” he said. Saunders slapped his leg in a sort of ecstasy. “Didn’t I always say it, sir,” he chuckled. “Wasn’t I right? I used to say to myself it ’ud be a pretty good school team that ’ud leave you out.” “Of course, I’m only playing as a sub., you know. Three chaps are in extra, and I got one of the places.” “Well, you’ll make a hundred to-day, Master Mike, and then they’ll have to put you in.” “Wish I could!” “Master Joe’s come down with the Club,” said Saunders. “Joe! Has he really? How ripping! Hullo, here he is. Hullo, Joe?” The greatest of all the Jacksons was descending the pavilion steps with the gravity befitting an All England batsman. He stopped short, as Saunders had done. “Mike! You aren’t playing!” “Yes.” “Well, I’m hanged! Young marvel, isn’t he, Saunders?” “He is, sir,” said Saunders. “Got all the strokes. I always said it, Master Joe. Only wants the strength.” Joe took Mike by the shoulder, and walked him off in the direction of a man in a Zingari blazer who was bowling slows to another of the M.C.C. team. Mike recognised him with awe as one of the three best amateur wicket-keepers in the country. “What do you think of this?” said Joe, exhibiting Mike, who grinned bashfully. “Aged ten last birthday, and playing for the school. You are only ten, aren’t you, Mike?” “Brother of yours?” asked the wicket-keeper. “Probably too proud to own the relationship, but he is.” “Isn’t there any end to you Jacksons?” demanded the wicket-keeper in an aggrieved tone. “I never saw such a family.” “This is our star. You wait till he gets at us to-day. Saunders is our only bowler, and Mike’s been brought up on Saunders. You’d better win the toss if you want a chance of getting a knock and lifting your average out of the minuses.” “I _have_ won the toss,” said the other with dignity. “Do you think I don’t know the elementary duties of a captain?” * * * * *