Marsh was still feeling the effects of his innings, and decided to take another ten minutes' rest. He accordingly electrified players and spectators alike by tossing the ball to Pip.
"We shall win by nine wickets now," said Master Simpson with decision—"not five."
"My dear a*s," replied Mumford, "he's only put Pip on for an over to let Martin change ends."
"Well, if he bowls as he did last innings Martin won't get the chance, 'cause Pip will give us all the runs we want in one over. Let's see: six sixes are thirty-six, say ten wides, and—all right, lousy swine!"
This last remark was delivered from a nettle-bed behind the railings, and its warmth was due to the fact that the speaker had been neatly tilted backwards by a well-directed jog from the incensed Mr. Mumford's elbow.
But Pip h
