straight one from Shaw, and had to go back. Mr. M. P. Lucas, after making ten and raising hopes, was caught at the wicket off the same astute bowler.

The score was now 107 for nine wickets. Only six runs needed for victory; but who was to make them? The partisans of the Gentlemen trembled with fear, for the last man was the placid Mr. Appleby, whose batting powers were only rudimentary, yet surely he was good either for six runs himself or to stay there while Mr. Bettesworth got them. But Shaw was bowling like the devil, and there was another ball to the over, too!

The partisans of the Players were flushed and restless. Surely Mr. Appleby could not withstand Shaw's cunning? The very next ball might settle

it all.

Meanwhile Mr. Appleby allowed none of the anguish of the moment to accelerate his movements or disturb his serenity, but walked to the wicket with unconcern, and took his middle.

Mr. Hornby groaned. "Keep in, keep in!" he murmured to his last man, who, being three hundred yards away, took no notice. In a tense silence Shaw delivered the last ball of the over, which Mr. Appleby succeeded in snicking for one.

A shout went up. Four to tie, five to win!

Mr. Appleby now had to face Bates, and again Mr. Hornby groaned. "He can't bat," he said, "he can't bat. You've lost your penny."

The fieldsmen seemed to be a week changing their

places; but at last Mr. Appleby had secured his middle, and Bates began to run. Not a sound in the place! No one even breathed. The ball was delivered; Mr. Appleby played at it and missed it, and it missed the stumps by the varnish, as they say. The wicket-keeper, Payne, flung up his hands to mark the miracle. Bates took the ball again and again bowled, and this time Mr. Appleby got it away for two, amid terrific cheers. Two to tie, three to win!

The next ball he snicked luckily for one. More cheers. One to tie, two to win! The excitement was too terrible. Men's hearts left their assigned quarters and climbed up into throats and even mouths. Total strangers gripped their neighbours' arms and legs with the force of a vice. Even Mr. Hornby, seasoned as he was to the game's vicissitudes and emotions, breathed in short gasps.

Mr. Bettesworth had now to play. Every eye was on him. The Gentlemen's faction thought, If only he can get one and collar the over we are saved! The Players' sympathizers thought, Please Heaven he's either bowled or makes nothing! For Mr. Bettesworth was more to be trusted against Shaw than Mr. Appleby was.

Amid another dead stillness Bates delivered the last ball of the over, and Mr. Bettesworth played it carefully.

A huge sigh swept the Pavilion. Respite at any rate.

The fieldsmen again changed places with cynical deliberateness, and again Mr. Appleby prepared to bat. Everything depended upon the next moment.

Afred Shaw, fondling the ball, looked thoughtfully down his long shrewd nose. Then he altered the field a little. He was laying a trap.

"Now, Arthur, you must look out," muttered Mr. Hornby despairingly.

One to tie, two to win!

Mr. Appleby glanced carelessly to the Pavilion. If anyone could carry the thing through by sheer want of nerves it was he.

Shaw now was ready. He took his little run, moved his arm with its beautiful easy rhythm, and delivered a ball which apparently had no other purpose than to be hit for six. Mr. Appleby made

to hit it, realized that it was shorter than he thought, and sweetly and simply put it back into Shaw's hands. The match was over; the Players had won by one run!

In the scene of confusion which followed, Mr. Hornby disappeared and Rudd was lost among big men shouting and clapping.

Gradually the ground emptied. But Rudd could not go yet, for he had lost a bet, and must settle it. His only penny was held tightly in a hot hand as he watched the door by which the Gentlemen came out. One by one they emerged, and at last came his hero, carrying his cricket bag and accompanied by three

or four others, all talking and laughing. For the first time Rudd saw him wearing a hat.

Many a boy would have gone up to him and said, "Here's your penny," but Rudd could not break into the conversation. He must keep close and wait for his chance. They all walked slowly down to the gate where the cabs waited, Rudd at their heels. There they got into a cab.

Rudd stood by, looking earnestly at the great man and hoping for a glance of recognition, but it never came; and off went the cab.

Amid so much excitement how could a captain of Gentlemen remember a penny? Rudd realized that: but how he would have liked to pay!

It was not only the first bet he ever made, but the only bet he ever made to a forgetful winner.

R

CHAPTER IX

ASTRONOMY

UDD had been taken to the Town Hall to a lecture on Astronomy.

The lecturer was a tall white-bearded man in evening dress. His voice was hard and dreary, but he stated astonishing facts with such conciseness that one could not help listening.

He pained Rudd early in the evening by the contempt which he seemed to have for the earth. He always called it "our little globe." Why little? Rudd wondered. Was it not the whole world? It had been so till this evening, but it was the whole world. no longer. It was now steadily becoming an atom in a vast and unimaginable solar system.

The lecturer threw on the screen a picture of the bleak white caverns of the moon. The moon, he said, once no doubt was populous and busy as this little globe of ours. It was now dead. Some day our little globe would lose its heat and be dead too. Rudd shivered and trembled. How soon? how soon? he wondered in fear.

The lecturer made astounding statements about the