[Parkhurst Boys by Talbot Baines Reed]@TWC D-Link book
Parkhurst Boys

CHAPTER FOUR
14/20

After a time the very monotony of the game seemed to excite the spectators, who answered each neat "block" with a cheer, which showed they, too, could appreciate the tactics of our captain.
It was getting desperate for Westfield, and humiliating too, when one of their bowlers happened to change his style.

Instead of the slashing round-arm balls which he had hitherto sent in, he suddenly and without warning put in an underhand lob--an easy, slow, tempting ball, apparently bound to rise exactly on the player's bat.
Our man fell into the snare.

I could hear Steel, who was near me, groan, as we watched him lift the bat which had till now remained so well under control, and stepping forward prepare for a terrific "slog." Alas! the deceitful ball never rose at all, but pitching quietly a foot before the crease, shot forward along the ground, and found its way at last to the wicket, amid the tremendous shouts of all the crowd.
A parting being thus made between the two steady partners, the survivor, as is so often the case, did not long remain behind his companion, and when Steel went in, three wickets had already fallen with only fifteen runs.
Will our captain save us from defeat?
See him stand coolly at the wicket--how sure of himself he seems!--how indifferent to that imposing combination of bowlers and fielders which surround him! He takes his time to get comfortably settled at his wicket, and kneels down to tighten a shoestring, as if nobody was waiting for him.

Then pulling down the peak of his cap to shade his eyes from the sun, he leisurely turns his face to the bowler, and announces himself ready for the worst that desperate character can do to him.
We watched breathlessly the result of his first over, and with an excitement strangely in contrast with the indifferent and apparently careless demeanour of the batsman himself.

It was soon apparent, however, that we might dismiss all anxiety from our minds as to his safety, for he set briskly to work, punishing every ball that came to him, yet never giving a single chance.


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