These were carefully put on, the boys' countenances being particularly solemn as the long indiarubber guarded fingers were examined.
Then a thought occurred to Harry, and he struck an attitude.
"What do you say to a fight?" he cried. "We can't hurt one another with our legs guarded and our hands in these gloves. Hit me, and I'll hit you."
"No," said Phra shortly; "I don't like fighting in play. It always hurts, and then I get cross, and want to hit as hard as I can. I say, though, we shall be hot in these leggings and gloves."
"Look here," cried Harry; "we haven't seen these before."
"What are they?"
"Gloves, of course, all stuffed and soft. Here, let's look at the book and see what it says about them."
The book of games was examined, but they found no mention of the wicket-keeper's gloves, but plenty of other information which was puzzling.
"It's all very well to call this thing a book of games," said Harry at last, "but there doesn't seem to be much fun in it. It's as puzzling as old Euclid with his circles and straight lines and angles. Here, let's put all the things away. I can't understand. We'll make the doctor show us; that's the easiest way."
And so it was time after time, nothing more being done, for it was decided that there should be no genuine commencement till the doctor was ready, and though he was reminded pretty well every day he always replied that he was not ready yet.