"When we get licked tomorrow by half-a-dozen wickets," said JimmySilver, lilting his chair until the back touched the wall, "don't sayI didn't warn you. If you fellows take down what I say from time totime in note-books, as you ought to do, you'll remember that I offeredto give anyone odds that Kay's would out us in the final. I alwayssaid that a really hot man like Fenn was more good to a side thanhalf-a-dozen ordinary men. He can do all the bowling and all thebatting. All the fielding, too, in the slips."Tea was just over at Blackburn's, and the bulk of the house had goneacross to preparation in the school buildings. The prefects, as wastheir custom, lingered on to finish the meal at their leisure. Theseafter-tea conversations were quite an institution at Blackburn's. Thelabours of the day were over, and the time for preparation for themorrow had not yet come. It would be time to be thinking of that inanother hour. Meanwhile, a little relaxation might be enjoyed.
Especially so as this was the last day but two of the summer term, andall necessity for working after tea had ceased with the arrival of thelast lap of the examinations.
Silver was head of the house, and captain of its cricket team, whichwas nearing the end of its last match, the final for the inter-housecup, and--on paper--getting decidedly the worst of it. After riding intriumph over the School House, Bedell's, and Mulholland's, Blackburn'shad met its next door neighbour, Kay's, in the final, and, to thesurprise of the great majority of the school, was showing up badly.
The match was affording one more example of how a team of averagemerit all through may sometimes fall before a one-man side.
Blackburn's had the three last men on the list of the first eleven,Silver, Kennedy, and Challis, and at least nine of its representativeshad the reputation of being able to knock up a useful twenty or thirtyat any time. Kay's, on the other hand, had one man, Fenn. After himthe tail started. But Fenn was such an exceptional all-round man that,as Silver had said, he was as good as half-a-dozen of the Blackburn'steam, equally formidable whether batting or bowling--he headed theschool averages at both. He was one of those batsmen who seem to knowexactly what sort of ball you are going to bowl before it leaves yourhand, and he could hit like another Jessop. As for his bowling, hebowled left hand--always a puzzling eccentricity to an undevelopedbatsman--and could send them down very fast or very slow, as hethought best, and it was hard to see which particular brand he wasgoing to serve up before it was actually in mid-air.
But it is not necessary to enlarge on his abilities. The figuresagainst his name in _Wisden_ prove a good deal. The fact that hehad steered Kay's through into the last round of the house-matchesproves still more. It was perfectly obvious to everyone that, if onlyyou could get Fenn out for under ten, Kay's total for that inningswould be nearer twenty than forty. They were an appalling side. Butthen no house bowler had as yet succeeded in getting Fenn out forunder ten. In the six innings he had played in the competition up todate, he had made four centuries, an eighty, and a seventy.
Kennedy, the second prefect at Blackburn's, paused in the act ofgrappling with the remnant of a pot of jam belonging to some personunknown, to reply to Silver's remarks.
"We aren't beaten yet," he said, in his solid way. Kennedy's chiefcharacteristics were solidity, and an infinite capacity for takingpains. Nothing seemed to tire or discourage him. He kept pegging awaytill he arrived. The ordinary person, for instance, would haveconsidered the jam-pot, on which he was then engaged, an emptyjam-pot. Kennedy saw that there was still a strawberry (or it may havebeen a section of a strawberry) at the extreme end, and he meant tohave that coy vegetable if he had to squeeze the pot to get at it. Totake another instance, all the afternoon of the previous day he hadbowled patiently at Fenn while the latter lifted every other ball intospace. He had been taken off three times, and at every fresh attack hehad plodded on doggedly, until at last, as he had expected, thebatsman had misjudged a straight one, and he had bowled him all overhis wicket. Kennedy generally managed to get there sooner or later.
"It's no good chucking the game up simply because we're in a tightplace," he said, bringing the spoon to the surface at last with thesection of strawberry adhering to the end of it. "That sort of thing'sawfully feeble.""He calls me feeble!" shouted Jimmy Silver. "By James, I've put a manto sleep for less."It was one of his amusements to express himself from time to time in amelodramatic fashion, sometimes accompanying his words with suitablegestures. It was on one of these occasions--when he had assumed at amoment's notice the _role_ of the "Baffled Despot", in anargument with Kennedy in his study on the subject of the housefootball team--that he broke what Mr Blackburn considered a valuabledoor with a poker. Since then he had moderated his transports.
"They've got to make seventy-nine," said Kennedy.
Challis, the other first eleven man, was reading a green scoring-book.
"I don't think Kay's ought to have the face to stick the cup up intheir dining-room," he said, "considering the little they've done towin it. If they _do_ win it, that is. Still, as they made twohundred first innings, they ought to be able to knock offseventy-nine. But I was saying that the pot ought to go to Fenn. Lotthe rest of the team had to do with it. Blackburn's, first innings,hundred and fifty-one; Fenn, eight for forty-nine. Kay's, two hundredand one; Fenn, a hundred and sixty-four not out. Second innings,Blackburn's hundred and twenty-eight; Fenn ten for eighty. Bit thick,isn't it? I suppose that's what you'd call a one-man team."Williams, one of the other prefects, who had just sat down at thepiano for the purpose of playing his one tune--a cake-walk, of which,through constant practice, he had mastered the rudiments--spoke overhis shoulder to Silver.
"I tell you what, Jimmy," he said, "you've probably lost us the pot bygetting your people to send brother Billy to Kay's. If he hadn't keptup his wicket yesterday, Fenn wouldn't have made half as many."When his young brother had been sent to Eckleton two terms before,Jimmy Silver had strongly urged upon his father the necessity ofplacing him in some house other than Blackburn's. He felt that a headof a house, even of so orderly and perfect a house as Blackburn's, hasenough worries without being saddled with a small brother. And on theprevious afternoon young Billy Silver, going in eighth wicket forKay's, had put a solid bat in front of everything for the space of onehour, in the course of which he made ten runs and Fenn sixty. Byscoring odd numbers off the last ball of each over, Fenn had managedto secure the majority of the bowling in the most masterly way.
"These things will happen," said Silver, resignedly. "We Silvers, youknow, can't help making runs. Come on, Williams, let's have that tune,and get it over."Williams obliged. It was a classic piece called "The Coon BandContest", remarkable partly for a taking melody, partly for the vastpossibilities of noise which it afforded. Williams made up for hisfailure to do justice to the former by a keen appreciation of thelatter. He played the piece through again, in order to correct themistakes he had made at his first rendering of it. Then he played itfor the third time to correct a new batch of errors.
"I should like to hear Fenn play that," said Challis. "You're awfullygood, you know, Williams, but he might do it better still.""Get him to play it as an encore at the concert," said Williams,starting for the fourth time.
The talented Fenn was also a musician,--not a genius at the piano, ashe was at cricket, but a sufficiently sound performer for his age,considering that he had not made a special study of it. He was to playat the school concert on the following day.
"I believe Fenn has an awful time at Kay's," said Jimmy Silver. "Itmust be a fair sort of hole, judging from the specimens you seecrawling about in Kay caps. I wish I'd known my people were sendingyoung Billy there. I'd have warned them. I only told them not to slinghim in here. I had no idea they'd have picked Kay's.""Fenn was telling me the other day," said Kennedy, "that being inKay's had spoiled his whole time at the school. He always wanted tocome to Blackburn's, only there wasn't room that particular term. Badluck, wasn't it? I don't think he found it so bad before he becamehead of the house. He didn't come into contact with Kay so much. Butnow he finds that he can't do a thing without Kay buzzing round andinterfering.""I wonder," said Jimmy Silver, thoughtfully, "if that's why he bowlsso fast. To work it off, you know."In the course of a beautiful innings of fifty-three that afternoon,the captain of Blackburn's had received two of Fenn's speediest on thesame spot just above the pad in rapid succession, and he now hobbledpainfully when he moved about.
The conversation that evening had dealt so largely with Fenn--thewhole school, indeed, was talking of nothing but his great attempt towin the cricket cup single-handed--that Kennedy, going out into theroad for a breather before the rest of the boarders returned frompreparation, made his way to Kay's to see if Fenn was imitating hisexample, and taking the air too.
He found him at Kay's gate, and they strolled towards the schoolbuildings together. Fenn was unusually silent.
"Well?" said Kennedy, after a minute had passed without a remark.
"Well, what?""What's up?"Fenn laughed what novelists are fond of calling a mirthless laugh.
"Oh, I don't know," he said; "I'm sick of this place."Kennedy inspected his friend's face anxiously by the light of the lampover the school gate. There was no mistake about it. Fenn certainlydid look bad. His face always looked lean and craggy, but tonightthere was a difference. He looked used up.
"Fagged?" asked Kennedy.
"No. Sick.""What about?""Everything. I wish you could come into Kay's for a bit just to seewhat it's like. Then you'd understand. At present I don't supposeyou've an idea of it. I'd like to write a book on 'Kay Day by Day'.
I'd have plenty to put in it.""What's he been doing?""Oh, nothing out of the ordinary run. It's the fact that he's alwaysat it that does me. You get a houseful of--well, you know the sort ofchap the average Kayite is. They'd keep me busy even if I were alloweda free hand. But I'm not. Whenever I try and keep order and stopthings a bit, out springs the man Kay from nowhere, and takes the jobout of my hands, makes a ghastly mess of everything, and retirespurring. Once in every three times, or thereabouts, he slangs me infront of the kids for not keeping order. I'm glad this is the end ofthe term. I couldn't stand it much longer. Hullo, here come the chapsfrom prep. We'd better be getting back."
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |