"Well missed, sir!" cried some one else, with painful truthfulness.

Riddell saw the crisis.

Another miss like that, a few more taunts like those, and he might as well retire from the field.
Not for the first time in his life he pulled himself together with a vehement effort and shook off every thought but the one duty that claimed him.
And only just in time.
The last ball of the over was played again into slip, this time very smartly.

The school shivered as they saw it whiz straight for the weak point.

But they might have spared themselves their agitation, for Riddell had it--all but a catch--before the shiver was over, and had returned it to Fairbairn at the wickets promptly enough to make the Rockshire man feel he had had a narrow escape of a run-out.
"Fielded, sir!" said Bloomfield, as the players crossed over; and this commendation was more encouraging than all the shouts of the schoolhouse partisans.
Porter's next over disposed of the first Rockshire man, amid great school rejoicing, which was only tempered by the reflection among the Parretts that it was a wicket to the credit of the schoolhouse half of the eleven.
Then followed a succession of short but smart innings, during which the Rockshire score crawled up to seventy, despite of a further change of bowlers and very careful all-round fielding by the school.
All this time the steady man hung on obstinately; nothing seemed to puzzle him or tempt him out of his caution.
At length, in sheer desperation, Coates was put on to bowl; anything seemed better than this hopeless deadlock.