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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Well?" said Uncle John. "We won." He paused for a moment. "Bob made forty-eight," he added carelessly. Uncle John felt in his pocket, and silently slid a sovereign into Mike's hand. It was the only possible reply. Wyatt got back late that night, arriving at the dormitory as Mike was going to bed. "By Jove, I'm done," he said. "It was simply baking at Geddington.
The M.C.C., led by Mike's brother Reggie, the least of the three first-class cricketing Jacksons, had smashed them by a hundred and fifty runs. Geddington had wiped them off the face of the earth.
Sometimes an exceptional Geddington team would sweep the board, or Wrykyn, having beaten Ripton, would go down before Wilborough. But this did not happen often. Usually Wilborough and Geddington were left to scramble for the wooden spoon.
Away south, between the Nene and Welland, stretched from Stamford and Peterborough the still vast forests of Rockingham, nigh twenty miles in length as the crow flies, down beyond Rockingham town, and Geddington Chase.
Several things had contributed to that melancholy omission. In the first place, Geddington, to judge from the weekly reports in the Sportsman and Field, were strong this year at batting. In the second place, the results of the last few matches, and particularly the M.C.C. match, had given Burgess the idea that Wrykyn was weak at bowling.
On the evening before the Geddington match, just before lock-up, Mike tapped at Burgess's study door. He tapped with his right hand, for his left was in a sling. "Come in!" yelled the captain. "Hullo!" "I'm awfully sorry, Burgess," said Mike. "I've crocked my wrist a bit." "How did you do that? You were all right at the nets?" "Slipped as I was changing," said Mike stolidly. "Is it bad?"
Say you'll curse your brother and make him apologise, and that I'll kick him out of the team for the Geddington match." It was a difficult moment for Bob. One cannot help one's thoughts, and for an instant the idea of going to Geddington with the team, as he would certainly do if Mike did not play, made him waver. But he recovered himself. "Don't do that," he said.
One or two of them he knew by repute from the pages of Wisden. Bannister, his cheerful predecessor in the Postage Department, was the Bannister, he recollected now, who had played for Geddington against Wrykyn in his second year in the Wrykyn team. Munroe, the big man in the Fixed Deposits, he remembered as leader of the Ripton pack.
"They're playing Geddington. Only it's away. There's a second match on." "Why aren't you Hullo, I didn't see. What have you been doing to yourself?" "Crocked my wrist a bit. It's nothing much." "How did you do that?" "Slipped while I was changing after cricket." "Hurt?" "Not much, thanks." "Doctor seen it?" "No. But it's really nothing. Be all right by Monday." "H'm. Somebody ought to look at it.
"If he does well to-day, they'll probably keep him in." "Isn't there room for both of you?" "Such a lot of old colours. There are only three vacancies, and Henfrey got one of those a week ago. I expect they'll give one of the other two to a bowler, Neville-Smith, I should think, if he does well against Geddington. Then there'll be only the last place left." "Rather awkward, that."
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