FitzMorris overheard him.
"Rot! Absolute rot! If you go on the field in that spirit you won't get a single man out. Go in and win."
And a very fine fight the House put up. Foster bowled splendidly, Betteridge was fast asleep at point and brought off a marvellous one-handed catch, while Gordon stumped Felsted in his third over. After an hour's play seven men were out for about ninety. The scorers were at variance, so the exact score could not be discovered. There seemed a reasonable chance of winning. And to his dying day Gordon will maintain that they would have won but for that silly ass of an umpire, FitzMorris. Bridges, the Buller's wicket-keep, was run out by yards; there was no doubt about it. Everyone saw it. But long hours at the laboratory had made it very hard for FitzMorris to concentrate his brain on anything for a long time; he was happily dreaming, let us hope, of carbon bisulphate, when the roar, "How's that?" woke him up. He had to give the man "not out"; there was nothing else to do. Twenty minutes later, with a scandalous scythe-stroke, Bridges made the winning hit.
"Never mind, your men put up a good fight; the luck was all on our side," said "the Bull" to Caruthers. "Let's see, it's Sunday to-morrow, isn't it? Well, on Monday, then, come round to the nets; you want to practise getting that left foot across. Look here, just get your bat and I'll toss you up one or two now at the nets!"
That night "the Bull," talking over the game with his side in the dormitories, said: "That Caruthers, you know, he's a good man; sort of fellow we want in the school. Can fight an uphill game. Got grit. He'll make a lot of runs for the school some day."
On Monday Gordon saw his name down for nets with the Colts Eleven. Life was good just then. If only Jeffries were there too....
CHAPTER VI: CLARKE
"Ferguson, the House is getting jolly slack; something's got to be done."