The Magpies became impatient, and perhaps a little bit anxious. When Dick pushed the ball away a foot or two they cheered ironically, crying, "Well hit!" "Nearly a boundary!" etc., and advised him in sarcastic tones to run it out.
Dick grinned. He was enjoying himself immensely, and had no objection to any amount of chaff.
As the game proceeded, a magnetic influence seemed to pervade the air. A deep hush fell over the field; the spectators were afraid to turn their eyes from the wicket a second.
Jim had the ball again, and was playing like a professional. Twelve, ten, eight to win! A beautiful drive all along the ground reduced the required number to four, and the Deanery boys burst into a roar of cheering.
Mr. Holmore's eyes brightened, and he turned with a smile to the St. Paul's master, who stood near him.
"Well, Hudson, we shall give you a fright, at least," he remarked.
"It looks as if we shall have to give you the shield," replied Mr. Hudson ruefully.
Another cheer announced that two more runs had been knocked off; and then, from the very last ball of the over, Jim made it a tie.
The excitement was too intense for the Deanery boys even to cheer; they held their breath and waited.
What would Dicky do?