"So am I," said the Duffer.
"But you're a bowler," said Desmond. "If I get out first ball, I shall cut my throat."
But Cæsar looked alert, cool, and neither under- nor over-confident.
"You'll cut the ball, not your throat," said the Duffer. Cutting was Cæsar's strong point.
The Caterpillar nodded, and spoke oracularly—
"My governor says he never shoots at a snipe without muttering to himself, 'Snipe on toast.' It steadies his nerves. When you see the ball leave the bowler's hand, you say to yourself, 'Eton on toast.'"
"Your own, Caterpillar?"
"My own," said the Caterpillar, modestly. "I don't often make a joke, but that's mine. Pass it on."
The other Harrovian about to go in beckoned to Desmond.
"Cæsar won't be bowled first ball," said the Caterpillar. "He's the sort that rises to an emergency. Can't we find a seat?"