The ball flew from his hand straight and swift towards the centre stump of the wicket.

The wary Dumkins was on the alert: it fell upon the tip of the bat, and bounded far away over the heads of the scouts, who had just stooped low enough to let it fly over them.
'Run--run--another .-- Now, then throw her up--up with her--stop there--another--no--yes--no--throw her up, throw her up!'-- Such were the shouts which followed the stroke; and at the conclusion of which All-Muggleton had scored two.

Nor was Podder behindhand in earning laurels wherewith to garnish himself and Muggleton.

He blocked the doubtful balls, missed the bad ones, took the good ones, and sent them flying to all parts of the field.

The scouts were hot and tired; the bowlers were changed and bowled till their arms ached; but Dumkins and Podder remained unconquered.