practice for you this afternoon, at all events."

"No," agreed Jim. "I'd better lie by till the morning. Never mind, old chap; it wasn't your fault; and besides, I shall be all right. Mother will see to that, I'm glad the match is to-morrow. We'll have a good try for the shield, and then peg away for the scholarship."

"Won't the Magpies get their monkey up if we pull off both? What a beastly nuisance! There's Temple coming!"

Temple was the captain of the St. Paul's team—a tall, nice-looking lad, immensely proud of his school, and noted for playing the game like a true sportsman.

"Hullo, Hartland!" he cried; "crippled? I say, that's hard lines on the Deanery. I wonder if the committee would put the game off for a week?"

"No, no," said Jim; "it isn't much. I shall turn up in the morning."

"You're a brick, Temple," exclaimed Dick, "and a jolly good sort, though you are a Magpie. 'Pon my word, I'm half sorry we're going to take that shield from you."

"And you're a little humbug," laughed Temple, giving him a playful dig in the ribs.—"Take care of yourself, Jim. I wouldn't give a toss to beat the Deanery if you're out of the team."

"Proper sort of chap, ain't he?" said Dick, when the Magpie passed on. "Just fancy his proposing that the match should be put off! My stars, there aren't many captains who would do that. How's the leg now?"

"Painful rather, but 'twill be better when I lie down."

Dick helped his chum home; and while Mrs. Hartland doctored the bruised limb, he chatted gaily with Susie, telling her all about the match and the scholarship, and making merry jokes for her to laugh at.

Owing to a weak spine, Susie spent most of her time lying on the sofa; but she was a bright, intelligent girl, very fond of mischievous Dick, and immensely proud of her brother.

She was very glad when her mother said Jim's leg would soon be well, for this cricket match was to be a great event in her life—a gleam of gold in a gray sky.

Mrs. Hartland had hired an invalid chair, and the two boys had promised to take her to the county ground, where the game was to be played.

"I do hope it will be fine," she exclaimed rather wistfully, for there were few pleasures in her life.

"It's bound to be," cried Dick, with a merry laugh. "The sun will come out on purpose to see you. Now I must be off for the practice. Give Jim plenty of goose-grease, Mrs. Hartland, and make him stay in bed till the last minute.—I'll be round in good time in the morning, Susie.—Ta, ta, Jimmy. This will teach you not to go about knocking inspectors over in the future."

"I like that," said Jim. "Why, you little fraud—"

But Dick had picked up his hat, and was outside the door before he could finish.

CHAPTER II.

THE CHALLENGE SHIELD.

Susie's eyes sparkled and her face beamed with pleasure as she lay in the invalid-chair, with her head propped up by soft, cozy pillows. The boys had found a splendid spot for the carriage, while her mother and Mrs. Boden sat beside her. And to make her happiness complete, Jim had declared that his leg was not in the least bit painful.

"Isn't it prime?" said Dick, who had come over for a last word. "You'd never have guessed we could be such awful swells. There's the mayor in the pavilion, and no end of big-wigs with him."

"Where's Jim?"

"Oh, he's tossing with Temple, and he's lost too; our fellows are coming out to field."

It was an ideal day for cricket. The sun shone brightly, but a cool breeze tempered its heat, making it pleasant for players and spectators alike. The ground was packed with people, who cheered heartily as Jim led his team into the field.

Hundreds of boys were there, some sporting the Magpie colours, others the blue and white favours of the Deanery, while many of the principal men in the town had come with their wives and children to watch the final struggle for the challenge shield.

Only one innings was to be played by each side, and Dick started the bowling. The opening was sensational: his first ball scattered the batsman's stumps, and in the same over another man was caught and bowled.

Two wickets down and not a run scored! The Deanery boys were wild with delight. They flung their caps in the air, and began debating where it would be best to hang the shield.

Their joy did not last long, however. Temple had gone in, and he was hitting the ball to all parts of the field without giving a chance. In vain Jim changed his bowlers and rearranged his field. Until he had made 69, the doughty batsman defied every attempt to dislodge him. Then, getting hold of a curly one from Dick, he sent it spinning high and hard to the boundary.

The Magpies cheered and clapped their hands; but, as Dick afterwards remarked, they were "a little too previous." Jim was fielding "in the country," and he did not often miss a catch. He had hard work this time though; but he just managed it, and a welcome roar burst from the Deanery boys as he threw the ball into the air.

"Well caught! well caught, Hartland!" they cried, for Temple was their most dangerous opponent, and now that he was gone they felt on better terms with themselves.

Still the score gradually crept up, till, by the time the last man was out, the board showed the respectable total of 157.

Susie had very hazy notions of cricket, and when Dick came over she wanted to know if the Deanery had won the shield.

"Won!" echoed Dick, opening his eyes wide. "Why, the match isn't over. We have to go in yet. There's Jim just walking to the wicket. Did you see that lovely catch he made? Mr. Barrow, a regular cricketing swell—plays for the county, you know—said it was as neat a bit of work as he'd seen on the ground."

Susie still felt very hazy about it, but she understood Jim had done something clever, and that was enough to make her happy.

Meanwhile the excitement over the match grew very keen. The Deanery innings opened well, fifty runs being scored for the loss of two wickets; but after that matters went badly.

One after the other, the batsmen were caught or bowled; and it seemed as if the captain could not get any one to stay with him for long.

When the seventh wicket fell for exactly a hundred, Dick began to whistle comically.

"There's only Archer to depend on now," said he, "and it isn't often he makes more than a dozen."

"Why don't you go in?" asked Susie.

"Oh, I'm last man. I'm no good with the bat. They only play me for bowling. Oh, well done, Archer! That was a pretty cut for two. I hope he'll get set."

"So do I," said the girl, though rather wondering what to 'get set' meant; and then Dick mystified her more than