"I got Saturday afternoon."
"What!"
"Is Wilson in too?"
"No. He got a hundred lines."
Stone and Robinson were quite concerned.
"What a beastly swindle!"
"That's because you don't play cricket. Old Downing lets you do what you
like if you join the Fire Brigade and play cricket."
"'We are, above all, a keen school,'" quoted Stone. "Don't you ever
play?"
"I have played a bit," said Mike.
"Well, why don't you have a shot? We aren't such flyers here. If you
know one end of a bat from the other, you could get into some sort of a
team. Were you at school anywhere before you came here?"
"I was at Wrykyn."
"Why on earth did you leave?" asked Stone. "Were you sacked?"
"No. My father took me away."
"Wrykyn?" said Robinson. "Are you any relation of the Jacksons
there--J.W. and the others?"
"Brother."
"What!"
"Well, didn't you play at all there?"
"Yes," said Mike, "I did. I was in the team three years, and I should
have been captain this year, if I'd stopped on."
There was a profound and gratifying sensation. Stone gaped, and Robinson
nearly dropped his teacup.
Stone broke the silence.
"But I mean to say--look here? What I mean is, why aren't you playing?
Why don't you play now?"
"I do.
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