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T was absolutely spif, sir," cried Eric ecstatically. "He simply hit Marsh all over the field."

He was describing to Sir John for the third time how his nephew had won for Little Bilstead the annual cricket match against Upper Saxton.

Sir John had slept well, Janet's coffee had been "devilishly good," as he had told Smith, and he was feeling intensely eupeptic.

Immediately after breakfast Eric had arrived across the "birds' breakfast-table," and he had arrived unre- buked. His frank hero-worship of Smith, he persisted in the name, coupled with the fact that he appeared to find nothing in Sir John of which to be afraid, had rendered them "friends from the kick-off," as Eric later expressed it to Marjorie. To appear afraid of Sir John was to ensure his dislike.

"Then," continued Eric, switching on to the previous day's encounter, "you should have seen old Thirk go " He stopped suddenly. A moment later there was a flash of orange, and Eric had disappeared behind the holly-bush into which Smith had threatened to throw Mr. Bluggs.

Sir John looked about him in bewilderment, search- ing for something to account for the inexplicable disap- pearance of his companion.

Suddenly his gaze became fixed, the veins in his fore- head began to swell, and the tint of his complexion 326