"Ah, there's Charles Desmond, an early bird, too."
He bustled away, leaving John and the Caterpillar together. The great ground in front of them was being cleared. One could see, through the few people scattered here and there, the wickets pitched in the middle of that vast expanse of lawn, and the umpires in their long white coats. Upon the top of the steps, in the middle of the pavilion, the Eton captain was collecting his Eleven. The Duffer, who had got his Flannels at the last moment, came up and joined John and the Caterpillar.
"The Manor's well to the front," said the Caterpillar. "By Jove! I never thought to see Fluff in the Eleven."
"Fluff came on tremendously this term," the Duffer replied.
"Of course the Kinlochs are a cricketing family."
"Good joke the brothers playing against each other," said John.
"Warde," the Duffer nodded in the direction of Warde, who was talking with Charles Desmond and Colonel Egerton, "has worked like a slave. He made a cricketer out of Fluff and a scholar out of Jonathan. He's so mad keen to see us win, that he's given me the jumps."
"You must keep cool," the Caterpillar murmured. "I've just come from the Trent coach. Fluff has it from the brother who is playing that the Eton bowling is weak. But Strathpeffer, the eldest son, tells me the batsmen are stronger than last year. He seemed anxious to bet; so we have a fiver about it. They're taking the field."
The Eton Eleven walked towards the wicket, loudly cheered. Cæsar came up in his pads, carrying his bat and gloves. He shook hands with the Caterpillar, and said, with a groan, that he had to take the first ball.
"Keep cool," said the Caterpillar. "The bowling's weak; I have it from Cosmo Kinloch. They're in a precious funk."