He was hospitably greeted by John Chell, introduced to Mrs. Chell, Miss Emily Chell, and Miss Dorothy Chell, renewed his acquaintance with Jacky Chell, and then turned to the inspection of the rest of the house-party, most of whom were known to him. The cricketers were headed by Raven Innes, a little past his best now, but still to be reckoned among the six finest bats in England. Then came Mallaby and Oake, the Oxford and Cambridge captains for that year. There was also a comic man--the Squire knew well that it takes all sorts to make an Eleven--a member of a noble house, with a polysyllabic and historic title; but nobody ever called him anything but "Cockles." There were one or two county cricketers of established merit, with or against whom Pip had waged many a gallant battle; and it was reported that the Squire had up his sleeve a young local professional, who would one day be the finest fast bowler in England. Finally, there were two guests who require more elaborate introduction. The first was a young man of about twenty-three. His name was Gresley. His father was sole proprietor of the Gresley Motor Works, and (it was said) a man of millions. He had sent his only son to Cambridge; and the son, a shy and retiring boy, after devoting his first two years to the study of mechanical science, oblivious of the glad fact that the world contained other things to do, had suddenly sprung into fame, almost _malgré lui_, as a bowler of absolutely natural "googlies," which fearsome term means an off-break with a leg-break action. This priceless talent had been accidentally discovered by Pip during a visit to Gresley's home in the vacation, in the course of a game of stump-cricket on the lawn after lunch. A year later Gresley had played for Cambridge at Lord's, with a success which had qualified him for an invitation to Rustleford. Indeed it was to him, together with Pip and the Squire's professional dark horse, that the Eleven looked for its wickets. Gresley was a small, slim fellow, looking much younger than he really was. He had been brought up by his widowed father almost by hand, and had never been to a public school. He was not quite at his ease in a crowd of people, and was devotedly attached to Pip, who had done him more than one good turn since they became acquainted. The other man, Cullyngham, was of a very different type; and indeed Pip's first action on catching sight of him playing bridge in the hall was to seek out Raven Innes and inquire, with unusual heat, what "that swine" was doing in the house. "Can't say, laddie," said Innes. "The Squire asked him, not I. I suppose he has only met him casually, and just knows him as a first-class cricketer." "First-class cad!" grumbled Pip. "Quite so, my son; but it's not our house, and he's not our guest. Still, it will do no harm to keep an eye on him." A sudden idea struck Pip. "Wouldn't it be a sound scheme," he suggested, "to warn your young sister about him?"