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It was now the turn of the Fairfield boys to give vent to their delight. The prospect of defeat had not been pleasant, but this sudden change mended the fortunes of their side, and they were wild with the sudden revulsion of feeling. They chaffed the Redbank lads unmercifully, until at one time there was danger of a fistic war.

This was, however, happily averted by the appearance of Raymond Rakes, who was cheered as he went to the wickets. Although Rakes was unpopular, the boys knew he was a fair bat, and they wished to encourage him to make a stand with Edgar Foster.

As Rakes came to the wickets Edgar went forward to meet him.

‘Play steady,’ said Edgar; ‘I feel I am well set. If you play carefully for a few overs you will soon master the bowling. Remember how much depends upon you. We shall have to win the match between us.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Rakes. ‘It’s precious bad luck four of our best bats going out like this.’

‘Don’t think of that,’ said Edgar. ‘Try and make up for it by piling up a good score.’