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At call-over that evening the Welchers had the pleasure of being informed by the doctor of the new arrangements proposed for their welfare, and, it need hardly be said, were considerably moved thereby. At first they were disposed to regard the affair as a joke and a capital piece of fun.
And every time he came down he was more encouraging. Even Bloomfield and a few of the First Eleven magnates thought it worth their while to saunter round once or twice and watch the practice of this promising club. It may be judged that, in proportion as the young Welchers found themselves succeeding, their enthusiasm for their club and its president increased. The club grew daily.
Nowhere was this activity more observed than in the newly-revived Welchers' club, presided over by the captain, and enlivened by the countenances of that ardent trio, Cusack, Pilbury, and Philpot. During the week preceding the election they had worked with unabated enthusiasm. You might have seen practice going on any morning at half- past six in the Welchers' corner of the Big.
"I tell you we'd have beaten them hollow," shouted Wibberly to the company in general. "No you wouldn't!" retorted Wyndham; "we were ahead and our men were as fresh as yours, every bit!" "Ya boo cheats! Told you there'd be no fair play with such a pack," shouted the Welchers. "Look here, who are you calling a cheat?" said Wyndham, very red in the face, edging up to the speaker.
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.
The Welchers, in the heyday of their triumph, heard it above even the chorus of the glorious Bouncer; and hearing it, forsook their revelry and hurried towards it. The Parretts quitted their melancholy teapot, and rushed with one accord to the spot.
The Welchers resumed their interrupted revel with unabated rejoicing; the melancholy Parretts called for more hot water to eke out the consolations of their teapot; the Limpets turned in again to their preparation, and the seniors to their studies every one criticising the fight, and wondering how it would have ended, but scarcely one troubling himself much about its merit, and less still about its consequences.
It was no use attempting further parley, and the irate Welchers were compelled to lurk furiously outside the door while the feast proceeded, and console themselves with the prospect of paying the enemy out when it was all over. But the skill which had accompanied the execution of the raid so far was not likely to omit all precautions possible to make good a retreat.
"Upon my word," he broke out after a good three minutes' waiting, "that blessed pan must be jolly heavy. There's three of them sticking to it now!" "Wait a bit, I hear him coming," said Curtis, going to the door. He stepped out into the passage, Morgan following him. Pilbury heard a sudden scuffling outside, and a sound of what did not seem like Welchers' voices.
The other houses at first regarded it as a good joke, and the earliest practices of the new club were usually performed in the presence of a large and facetious audience, who appeared to derive infinite delight from every ball that was bowled and every run that was made. But the Welchers were not to be snuffed out.
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