“I am not going to bowl fast,” he said, “just straight easy lobs;” but the boys found that the straight lobs were not so easy after all, and the wickets of the boys who had made a long score soon fell. Most of those who followed managed to make a few runs as well off Mr. Porson’s bowling as from that at the other end; for the master did not wish to discourage them, and for a few overs after each batsman came to the wicket aimed well off it so as to give them a chance of scoring.
The last wicket fell for the respectable score of fifty-four. The junior eleven then went in, the master not going in until the last. Only twenty runs had been made when he took the bat. In the five balls of the over which were bowled to him he made three fours; but before it came to his turn again his partner at the other end was out, and his side were twenty-two behind on the first innings. The other side scored thirty-three for the first four wickets before he again took the ball, and the remaining six went down for twelve runs. His own party implored him to go in first, but he refused.
“No, no, boys,” he said; “you must win the match, if you can, without much aid from me.”
The juniors made a better defense this time and scored forty before the ninth wicket fell. Then Mr. Porson went in and ran the score up to sixty before his partner was out, the seniors winning the match by nine runs. Both sides were highly pleased with the result of the match. The seniors had won after a close game. The juniors were well pleased to have run their elders so hard.
They all gathered round their master and thanked him warmly.
“I am glad you are pleased, my boys,” he said; “I will come down two or three times a week and bowl to you for an hour, and give you a few hints, and you will find that you get on fast. There is plenty of promise among you, and I prophesy that we shall turn out a fair eleven by the end of the season.”
The younger boys had also enjoyed themselves greatly, and had been joined by many of the elders while waiting for their turn to go in. Altogether the opening day of the Four Acre Field had been a great success.
The old cake woman who had previously supplied the boys still came once a week, her usual time being Wednesday evening, when, after tea, the boys played for half an hour in the yard before going in to their usual lessons. Ned was not usually present, but he one evening went back to fetch a book which he needed. As he came in at the gate of the yard Mather was speaking to the woman.
“No, I won’t let you have any more, Master Mather. You have broken your promises to me over and over again. That money you owed me last half ain’t been paid yet. If it had only been the money for the cakes and sweets I shouldn’t ha’ minded so much, but it’s that ten shillings you borrowed and promised me solemn you would pay at the end of the week and ain’t never paid yet. I have got to make up my rent, and I tell ye if I don’t get the money by Saturday I shall speak to t’ maister about it and see what he says to such goings on.”
“Don’t talk so loud,” Mather said hurriedly, “and I will get you the money as seen as I can.”
“I don’t care who hears me,” the woman replied in a still louder voice, “and as soon as you can won’t do for I. I have got to have it on Saturday, so that’s flat. I will come up to the field, and you’ll best have it ready for me.”
Ned did not hear the last few words, but he had heard enough to know that Mather owed ten shillings which he had borrowed, besides a bill for cakes. Mather had not noticed him come into the yard, for his back was toward the gate, and the noise which the boys made running about and shouting prevented him hearing the gate open and close.
“It’s a beastly shame,” Ned muttered to himself as he went off to school, “to borrow money from an old woman like that. Mather must have known he couldn’t pay it, for he has only a small allowance, and he is always short of money, and of course he could not expect a tip before the holidays. He might have paid her when he came back, but as he didn’t I don’t see how he is to do so now, and if the old woman tells Porson there will be a row. It’s just the sort of thing would rile him most.”
On the next Saturday he watched with some curiosity the entry of the old woman into the field. Several of the boys went up and bought sweets. When she was standing alone Mather strolled up to her. After a word or two he handed her something. She took it, and said a few words. Mather shook his head positively, and in a minute or two walked away, leaving her apparently satisfied.
“I suppose he has given her something on account,” Ned said to himself. “I wonder where he got it. When Ripon asked him last Monday for a subscription to buy another set of bats and wickets, so that two lots could practise at once, he said he had only sixpence left, and Mather would not like to seem mean now, for he knows he doesn’t stand well with any one except two or three of his own set, because he is always running out against everything that Porson does.”
A week later Mr. Porson said, at the end of school:
“By the way, boys, have any of you seen that illustrated classical dictionary of mine? I had it in school about ten days ago when I was showing you the prints of the dress and armor of the Romans, and I have not seen it since. I fancy I must have left it on my table, but I cannot be sure. I looked everywhere in my library for it last night and cannot find it. Perhaps if I left it on the desk one of you has taken it to look at the pictures.”
There was a general silence.
“I think it must be so,” Mr. Porson went on more gravely. “If the boy who has it will give it up I shall not be angry, as, if I left it on the desk, there would be no harm in taking it to look at the pictures.”
Still there was silence.
“I value the book,” Mr. Porson went on, “not only because it is an expensive work, but because it is a prize which I won at Durham.”
He paused a moment, and then said in a stern voice: “Let every boy open his desk.”
The desks were opened, and Mr. Porson walked round and glanced at each.
“This is a serious matter now,” he said. “Ripon, will you come to the study with me and help me to search again. It is possible it may still be there and I may have overlooked it. The rest will remain in their places till I return.”
There was a buzz of conversation while the master was absent. On his return he said:
“The book is certainly not there. The bookshelves are all so full that it could only have been put in its own place or laid upon the table. Ripon and I have searched the room thoroughly and it is certainly not there. Now, boys, this is a serious business. In the first place, I will give a last chance to whoever may have taken it to rise in his place and confess it.”
He paused, and still all were silent.
“Now mind,” he said, “I do not say that any of you have taken it—I have no grounds for such an accusation. It may have been taken by a servant. A tramp may have come in at the back gate when you were all away and have carried it off. These things are possible. And even were I sure that it had been done by one of you I should not dream of punishing all; therefore for the present we will say no more about it. But in order to assure myself and you I must ask you for the keys of your boxes. The servants’ boxes will also be searched, as well as every nook and corner of the house; and then, when we have ascertained for a certainty that the book is not within these four walls, I shall go on with a lighter heart.”
The boys all eagerly opened their trunks and play boxes, searched under the beds, in the cupboards, and in every nook and corner of their part of the house, and an equally minute search was afterward made in the other apartments; but no trace of the book was discovered. For days the matter was a subject of conversation among the boys, and endless were the conjectures as to what could have become of the dictionary. Their