As to Riddell, Bloomfield still kept his own private opinion of him, but the difference between him and his more ardent comrades was that he had the sense to keep what he thought to himself.
At any rate, he gave deep offence now to Game and Ashley, who retired in high dudgeon and greatly crestfallen to proclaim their wrongs to a small and sympathetic knot of admirers.
Perhaps the most serious blow these officious young gentlemen had received — hardly second to their snubbing by the Parretts’ captain — had been the mutiny of their own juniors, on whose cooperation they had calculated to a dead certainty.
To find Parson, Bosher, King, and Co. standing up in defence of Riddell against them was a phenomenon so wonderful, when they came to think of it, that they were inclined to imagine they themselves were the only sane boys left out of a house of lunatics. And this was the only consolation that mixed with the affair at all.
As to these juniors, they had far more to think about. In three days the match with Welch’s would be upon them, and a panic ensued on the discovery.
They had been contemptuously confident of their superior prowess, and it was not until one or two of them had actually been down to inspect the play of the rival team, and Bloomfield had come down to one of their own practices and declared publicly that they were safe to be beaten hollow, that they regarded the coming contest seriously.
Then they went to work in grim earnest. Having broken with Game, on whom they had usually depended for “instruction and reproof,” they boldly claimed the services of Bloomfield, and even pressed the willing Mr Parrett into the service.
Mr Parrett pulled a very long face the first afternoon he came down to look at them. He had been coaching the Welchers for a week or two past, and therefore knew pretty well what their opponents ought to be. And he was bound to admit that the young Parretts were very much below the mark.
They had a few good men. Parson was a fair bat, and King bowled moderately; but the “tail” of the eleven was in a shocking condition. Everything that could be done during the next few days was done. But cricket is not a study which can be “crammed” up, like Virgil or Euclid; and, despite the united efforts of Bloomfield and Mr Parrett, and a few other authorities, the team was pronounced to be a “shady” one at best as it took its place on the field of battle.
Riddell had kept his men steadily at it to the last. With a generosity very few appreciated, he forbore to claim Mr Parrett’s assistance at all during the last few days of practice, but he got Fairbairn and one or two of the schoolhouse seniors instead, and with their help kept up the courage and hopes of the young Welchers, wisely taking care, however, by a little occasional judicious snubbing, to prevent them from becoming too cocky or sure of the result.
It was quite an event to see the Welchers’ flag hoisted once more on the cricket-ground. Indeed, it was such an event that the doctor himself came down to watch the play, while the muster of schoolboys was almost as large as at a senior house match.
Among all the spectators, none were more interested in the event than the seniors, who had taken upon themselves the responsibility of “coaching” their respective teams.
Riddell was quite excited and nervous as he watched his men go out to field, while Bloomfield, though he would have been the last to own it, felt decidedly fidgety for the fate of his young champions.
However, Parretts, who went in first, began better than any one expected. Parson and King went boldly — not to say rashly — to work from the outset, and knocked the bowling about considerably before a lucky ball from Philpot got round the bat of the former and demolished his wicket.
Wakefield followed, and he too managed to put a few runs together; but as soon as his wicket fell a dismal quarter of an hour followed for the Parretts. Boy after boy, in all the finery of spotless flannel and pads and gloves, swaggered up to the wicket, and, after taking “middle” in magnificent style, and giving a lordly glance round the field, as though to select the best point for placing their strokes, lifted their bats miserably at the first ball that came, and had no chance of lifting it at another.
It was a melancholy spectacle, and far more calculated to excite pity than amusement. Bloomfield chafed and growled for some time, and then, unable to stand it any longer, went off in disgust, leaving the young reprobates to their fate.
Scarcely less remarkable than the collapse of Parrett’s was the steadiness of Welch’s in the field. Although they had little to do, they did what there was to do neatly and well, and, unlike many junior elevens, did it quietly. The junior matches at Willoughby had usually been more famous for noise than cricket, but on this occasion the order of things was reversed, and Riddell, as he looked on and heard the compliments from all quarters bestowed on his young heroes, might be excused if he felt rewarded for all the labour and patience of the past month.
It offended him not at all to hear this good result attributed generally to Mr Parrett’s instructions. He knew it was true. Mr Parrett himself took care to disclaim any but a small amount of merit in the matter.
“It’s a wonder to me,” said he to Fairbairn, in the hearing of a good many seniors, who were wont to treat anything he had to say on athletic matters as authoritative—“it’s a wonder to me how Riddell, who is only a moderate player himself, has turned out such a first-rate eleven. He’s about the best cricket coach we have had, and I have seen several in my time. He has worked on their enthusiasm without stint, and next best to that, he has not so much hammered into them what they ought to do, as he has hammered out of them what they ought not to do. Three fellows out of five never think of that.”
“I’m sure they don’t,” said Fairbairn.
“See how steady they were all the innings, too!” continued Mr Parrett. “Three coaches out of five wouldn’t lay that down as the first rule of cricket; but it is, especially with youngsters. Be steady first, and be expert next. That’s the right order, and Riddell has discovered it. I would even back a steady eleven of moderate players against a rickety eleven of good ones. In fact, a boy can’t be a cricketer at all, or anything else, unless he’s steady. Now, you see, unless I am mistaken, they will give quite as good an account of themselves at the wickets as they did on the field.”
And off strolled the honest Mr Parrett, bat in hand, to umpire, leaving his hearers not a little impressed with the force of his views on the first principles of cricket.
The master’s prophecy was correct. The Welchers, notwithstanding the fact that they had only twenty-five runs to get to equal their rivals’ first innings, played a steady and careful innings, in which they just trebled the Parretts’ score. The bowling against them was not strong certainly, but they took no liberties with it. Indeed, both the captain and Mr Parrett had so ruthlessly denounced and snubbed anything like “fancy hitting,” that their batting was inclined to err on the side of the over-cautious, and more runs might doubtless have been made by a little freer swing of the bats. However, the authorities were well satisfied. Cusack carried his bat for eighteen, much to his own gratification; and of his companions, Pilbury, Philpot, and Walker each made double figures.
It required all Riddell’s authority, in the face of this splendid achievement, to keep his men from jeopardising their second innings in the field by yielding prematurely to elation.
“For goodness’ sake don’t hulloa till you’re out of the wood!” he said; “they may catch up on you yet. Seventy-five isn’t such a big score after all. If you don’t look out you’ll muddle your chance away, and then how small you’ll look!”