Unless the first pair make a really good start, a collapse
almost invariably ensues.
Today the start had been gruesome beyond words. Mike, the bulwark of the
side, the man who had been brought up on Wrykyn bowling, and from whom,
whatever might happen to the others, at least a fifty was
expected--Mike, going in first with Barnes and taking first over, had
played inside one from Bruce, the Wrykyn slow bowler, and had been
caught at short slip off his second ball.
That put the finishing touch on the panic. Stone, Robinson, and the
others, all quite decent punishing batsmen when their nerves allowed
them to play their own game, crawled to the wickets, declined to hit out
at anything, and were clean bowled, several of them, playing back to
half volleys. Adair did not suffer from panic, but his batting was not
equal to his bowling, and he had fallen after hitting one four. Seven
wickets were down for thirty when Psmith went in.
Psmith had always disclaimed any pretensions to batting skill, but he
was undoubtedly the right man for a crisis like this. He had an enormous
reach, and he used it. Three consecutive balls from Bruce he turned into
full tosses and swept to the leg boundary, and, assisted by Barnes, who
had been sitting on the splice in his usual manner, he raised the total
to seventy-one before being yorked, with his score at thirty-five.
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