Tales of St. Austins | Page 5

to feel that under certain circumstances life was worth
living. It was while he was in this happy frame of mind that the string,
with which he had just produced a triumphant rattle from beneath the
chest of drawers, was seized, and the next instant its owner was
enjoying the warmest minute of a chequered career. Tony, like Brer
Rabbit, had laid low until he was certain of the direction from which
the sound proceeded. He had then slipped out of bed, crawled across
the floor in a snake-like manner which would have done credit to a Red
Indian, found the tin, and traced the string to its owner. Harrison
emerged from the encounter feeling sore and unfit for any further
recreation. This deed of the night left its impression on Harrison. The
account had to be squared somehow, and in a few days his chance came.
Merevale's were playing a 'friendly' with the School House, and in
default of anybody better, Harrison had been pressed into service as
umpire. This in itself had annoyed him. Cricket was not in his line--he
was not one of your flannelled fools--and of all things in connection
with the game he loathed umpiring most.
When, however, Tony came on to bowl at his end, vice Charteris, who
had been hit for three fours in an over by Scott, the School slogger, he
recognized that even umpiring had its advantages, and resolved to make
the most of the situation.
Scott had the bowling, and he lashed out at Tony's first ball in his usual
reckless style. There was an audible click, and what the sporting papers
call confident appeals came simultaneously from Welch, Merevale's
captain, who was keeping wicket, and Tony himself. Even Scott
seemed to know that his time had come. He moved a step or two away
from the wicket, but stopped before going farther to look at the umpire,

on the off-chance of a miracle happening to turn his decision in the
batsman's favour.
The miracle happened.
'Not out,' said Harrison.
'Awfully curious,' he added genially to Tony, 'how like a bat those bits
of grass sound! You have to be jolly smart to know where a noise
comes from, don't you!'
Tony grunted disgustedly, and walked back again to the beginning of
his run.
If ever, in the whole history of cricket, a man was out leg-before-wicket,
Scott was so out to Tony's second ball. It was hardly worth appealing
for such a certainty. Still, the formality had to be gone through.
'How was _that_?' inquired Tony.
'Not out. It's an awful pity, don't you think, that they don't bring in that
new leg-before rule?'
'Seems to me,' said Tony bitterly, 'the old rule holds pretty good when a
man's leg's bang in front.'
'Rather. But you see the ball didn't pitch straight, and the rule says--'
'Oh, all right,' said Tony.
The next ball Scott hit for four, and the next after that for a couple. The
fifth was a yorker, and just grazed the leg stump. The sixth was a
beauty. You could see it was going to beat the batsman from the
moment it left Tony's hand. Harrison saw it perfectly.
'No ball,' he shouted. And just as he spoke Scott's off-stump ricocheted
towards the wicket-keeper.
'Heavens, man,' said Tony, fairly roused out of his cricket manners, a
very unusual thing for him. 'I'll swear my foot never went over the
crease. Look, there's the mark.'
'Rather not. Only, you see, it seemed to me you chucked that time. Of
course, I know you didn't mean to, and all that sort of thing, but still,
the rules--'
Tony would probably have liked to have said something very forcible
about the rules at this point, but it occurred to him that after all
Harrison was only within his rights, and that it was bad form to dispute
the umpire's decision. Harrison walked off towards square-leg with a
holy joy.
But he was too much of an artist to overdo the thing. Tony's next over

passed off without interference. Possibly, however, this was because it
was a very bad one. After the third over he asked Welch if he could get
somebody else to umpire, as he had work to do. Welch heaved a sigh of
relief, and agreed readily.
'Conscientious sort of chap that umpire of yours,' said Scott to Tony,
after the match. Scott had made a hundred and four, and was feeling
pleased. 'Considering he's in your House, he's awfully fair.'
'You mean that we generally swindle, I suppose?'
'Of course not, you rotter. You know what I mean. But, I say, that catch
Welch and you appealed for must have been a near thing. I could have
sworn I hit it.'
'Of course you did. It was