ever by remarking that if Archer got his eye in he might be good for a score.

"It makes all the difference if a fellow has his eye in, you know," he said; and as this appeared reasonable, Susie agreed.

How the Deanery boys shouted when the board showed 120! And what a roar went up from the Magpies as, without another run added, Archer's bails went tumbling to the ground!

"A beastly yorker!" exclaimed Dick in a tone of deep disgust. "Well, I must be off. That's Crag going to the wicket now. He'd make a lot of runs, only he's so jolly nervous."

"The poor boy looks very pale," said Mrs. Hartland.

"O my aunt!" shouted Dick in an ecstasy of delight, "he's got a two off his first ball. Well done, Crag!"

The strain was intense now. The spectators watched every ball, and there were loud cries of "Play up, Deanery!" as the score kept creeping up.

Mr. Holmore felt as much excited as any of his boys, and he clapped his hands when 130 appeared on the board.

"Only twenty-eight to win," he said; "but I'm afraid the odds are too great."

"Hartland's good for these," said Mr. Laythorne Jim's class-master; "he is playing magnificently."

"Yes, whether we win or lose, it's a great day for him. Ah, I was afraid of it! Crag's out, and we still want twenty-five. Who is the last in?"

"Boden! I think we can abandon all hope of winning the shield this year."

The Deanery boys looked glum, but the Magpies beamed with satisfaction, for they all knew Dick. Though a good bowler, he had batting notions of his own which generally brought him to grief. He treated all balls alike, banging at each with a mighty swipe till a crash in the timber-yard told him it was time to retire.

"For goodness sake, be careful, Dicky," whispered Jim, as his chum passed him; "block everything, and keep your wicket up for once. I'll do the hitting."

"All right," grinned Dick. "I will, if I can remember."

There was a deep hush as he stood facing the bowler, and the Deanery boys hardly dared to breathe, for they knew too well that their erratic schoolfellow had an unhappy knack of missing his first ball. If Dicky played up to his reputation, all hope of winning the shield was at an end.

A profound sigh of relief broke from the friends of the Deanery, and they looked at one another in astonishment. Dicky had actually blocked the ball! The next was the last of the over, and then Mr. Laythorne beamed as Jim stood at the wicket.

A little luck and good management enabled Jim to take every ball in the over and to score eight; but the Magpies, still feeling sure of winning the match, whistled cheerfully. Temple would have Dick out in less than no time.

No boy needs to be reminded of the delightful uncertainty of cricket, and here was a splendid example. The Angel stood as if rooted to the ground, and never once attempted one of his mighty but erratic swipes. The cunning bowler tried every variety of dodge to tempt him, but Dicky was not to be coaxed.

The Magpies became impatient, and perhaps a little bit anxious. When Dick pushed the ball away a foot or two they cheered ironically, crying, "Well hit!" "Nearly a boundary!" etc., and advised him in sarcastic tones to run it out.

Dick grinned. He was enjoying himself immensely, and had no objection to any amount of chaff.

As the game proceeded, a magnetic influence seemed to pervade the air. A deep hush fell over the field; the spectators were afraid to turn their eyes from the wicket a second.

Jim had the ball again, and was playing like a professional. Twelve, ten, eight to win! A beautiful drive all along the ground reduced the required number to four, and the Deanery boys burst into a roar of cheering.

Mr. Holmore's eyes brightened, and he turned with a smile to the St. Paul's master, who stood near him.

"Well, Hudson, we shall give you a fright, at least," he remarked.

"It looks as if we shall have to give you the shield," replied Mr. Hudson ruefully.

Another cheer announced that two more runs had been knocked off; and then, from the very last ball of the over, Jim made it a tie.

The excitement was too intense for the Deanery boys even to cheer; they held their breath and waited.

What would Dicky do?

Mr. Laythorne, who was watching through his field-glass, sighed dolefully.

"The strain's too much for him," he said. "He's trembling fearfully. He'll lose his head and throw his wicket away."

Alas! there was a good deal of truth in the young class-master's words. It was not in Dick's nature to stand for long poking quietly at the ball as he had been doing. His fingers tingled as they closed round bat, and he longed to hit out at something.

Temple saw the youngster's state and took his measures accordingly. He placed his men with great care for a catch, and then sent down a tempting slow. Dick blocked it, and a second of the same sort.

Not a bit discouraged, Temple gave him a third; and this time, as the master had prophesied, Dick lost his head. His friends groaned when they saw his bat go up, and decided it would be only a question of caught or stumped. Dicky afterwards confessed it should have been one or the other.

"I couldn't stand it any longer, and that's the truth," said he. "I forgot all about the shield, and just went for the ball with all my might."

Jim declared his chum shut his eyes before hitting out; but be that as it may, the ball travelled through the air towards the boundary. Travers, the Magpie stationed in that part, ran along the edge of the field in a gallant attempt to bring off a fine catch; but he missed the ball by a hair's-breadth, and the coveted shield passed into the possession of the Deanery for the next twelve months.

"I congratulate you," said the master of St. Paul's, turning to Mr. Holmore. "It has been a splendid fight, and you deserved to win."

The last words were almost drowned in the roar that went up from the field. The Deanery boys swarmed in a mob across to the wicket. Some clutched Jim, others surrounded Dick, and lifting them shoulder-high, carried them off in triumph.

Susie could not leave her chair, so her mother and Mrs. Boden wheeled it over to the edge of the crowd which surrounded the pavilion. Then, to crown her happiness, some warm-hearted boys, whispering, "That's Hartland's crippled sister," cleared a passage, and would not be satisfied till the chair was wheeled right to the front where she could see and hear everything. Susie will never forget that half-hour of her life. The mayor made a pretty speech, and handed the shield to Mr. Holmore amidst an outburst of cheering. Then the Magpies stepped on to the platform to receive the medals which were given to the players on each side; and Jim, carried away by enthusiasm, shouted, "Three cheers for the good old Magpies!" which were given by every one on the ground.

Then it was the turn of the Deanery eleven, and fresh