“But what are we to do for a wicket-keeper?”
“You must take my place,” I said feebly. “You are the best wicket-keeper we have.”
“No,” he cried frankly, “you are; but I think I’m the best bowler.”
“Well, you will be obliged to keep wicket to-day,” I said, with a groan. “I shall never be able to stir, I’m sure.”
“Well, you do look precious mouldy,” he cried. “It’s a nuisance, and no mistake. I suppose we must make shift, then?”
“Yes; let Dicksee and Hodson bowl all the time.”
“And I can put Senna on now and then for an over or two.”
“I can’t bowl well enough,” said Mercer.
“Oh yes, you can when you like,” said Burr major. “And, I say,” he cried, taking out his watch, “it’s getting close to the time.”
Mercer’s eyes glistened as the watch was examined, and it seemed to me that my companion sighed as the watch was replaced.