“It’s in the air, you fool,” yelled a dozen voices. Then it fell within a yard of the Doctor. A child could have caught it. We were all quite unsettled. The Model Man said:
“I’m not a bit surprised—it’s just what I expected.”
And the Fourth Officer said:
“I don’t really see what good it is my bowling for catches at long-leg if there’s no long-leg.”
And the Doctor said:
“Wouldn’t have done it for money. Hadn’t the faintest idea you’d started. I saw you bowling balls all over the place, miles away from the wicket, and I thought you were merely practising.” Which was rather an unpleasant thing for the Fourth Officer to hear.
“a black umpire.”
Then the game steadied down and proceeded. Our Captain took the ball, after the underhand expert had got a few within sight of the wicket, and so finished his over. The Model Man was much more successful, for he clean-bowled a negro with his third delivery. It pitched in a sort of mountain-pass, about ten feet from the wicket; then it branched off to the right and hit a stone, and came back again, and finally took the off stump. I don’t see how anybody alive could have played it. The batsman retired utterly bewildered, and the Model Man assured me he had never sent down a better ball.
A slogger came in next, and made runs rather rapidly, but nothing much happened until the Fourth Officer’s third over. Then he fell foul of me, and took exception to my method of keeping the wicket. He was being hit about pretty generally, and had become very hot, so, at another time, I should not have retorted upon him; but, when he spoke, I was hot too, and being hit about also, so I answered without deliberation. He said: