The boys did their best to worthily earn their cricket-match, and it
came off some weeks after in due time.
The morning broke gloriously; four wagonettes came round to the door
after a very early breakfast, and the masters followed in an open
carriage with the Doctor, Wrench closing the door of each vehicle, and
confiding to each party as it started that he wished it had been his
luck to go as well; but he was going to enjoy himself that day by having
a regular good polish at the Doctor's plate.
Strongley was reached in good time, the wickets were pitched, and the
enemy, as the boys called them, made such a poor score in their innings
that they had to follow on to another failure, the result being that the
Doctor's pupils beat them in one innings, and drove back to Plymborough
cheering madly.
As it happened, during the return, Glyn and Singh were separated; Glyn
being in the first wagonette and reaching Plymborough a good half-hour
before the last one, in which Singh rode.
Hurrying up to his room for a good wash and change, to get it over
before Singh returned, the first thing that caught the boy's eyes was
Singh's little bunch of keys hanging from the lock of the bullock-trunk
in the corner.
Glyn was in such high spirits that the sight of the bunch set him
laughing.
"Well, of all the untrustworthy fellows I ever knew," he said, "poor old
Singh's about the worst."
Crossing to the trunk, he raised the lid, which yielded easily to his
hand, banged it down again, turned the key, and put the bunch in the
pocket of his flannel trousers ready to transfer to his ordinary
garments when he dressed.
He had just finished when a burst of cheering and the rattle of wheels
announced the coming of the last wagonette; and soon after, tired and
hungry, Singh came up, to help fill the corridor with a chorus of
chattering, and then hurriedly went on for his change of dress.
Then followed the supper the Doctor gave them, and, later on, the bell
for prayers and rest.
"Hope you haven't lost your keys," said Glyn, as they began to undress,
utterly wearied out.
"Lost my keys! Why should I lose my keys?" said Singh with a yawn.
"Here they are! No, they are not! I left them in my flannels."
"Nice fellow you are to take care of your things!" said Glyn, as his
companion limped across the room to where he had thrown his dusty and
green-marked cricketing suit--anyhow--upon a chair.
"Oh, murder!" he said. "I am so stiff. I can hardly move, and my right
hand feels all bruised and strained; but I say, Glynny, I hardly missed
a ball; and didn't I play old gooseberry with some of their stumps?"
"Yes, we must have rather astonished them," cried Glyn. "They haven't
had such a licking as that for a long time."
"Here, I say," cried Singh, "you have been up to some games," and he
fumbled in vain in his flannels-pockets. "I say, you shouldn't do this,
Glynny. The key of my India trunk is one of the bunch, and you know I
don't like any games played with that."
"I haven't played any games," said Glyn quietly.
"Now, no nonsense," cried Singh pettishly. "You have got my keys."
"Oh yes, I have got them," cried Glyn. "Here they are. Catch!"
The bunch went flying through the air, and with one quick snap of the
hand Singh caught them and laid them down sharply on the dressing-table
with a bang.
"I don't like it," he said angrily, for he was very tired. "You
shouldn't take my keys."
"Yes, I should," said Glyn quietly.
"I tell you you shouldn't."
"Then you oughtn't to leave them stuck in your box, as if to invite all
the servants to come and have a rummage, when you go out to a
cricket-match."
"I say, I didn't do that, did I? I had them in my pocket just before I
started."
"If you did, how could I have them in mine when you came back?"
"Why, I--I am certain--" began Singh; and then, "Oh!"
"`Oh,' indeed!" cried Glyn. "But how did it happen?"
"I was just getting in the wagonette, when I thought it would be good
fun to have one of those red Indian silk handkerchiefs to tie to a stump
and use as a flag."
"Yes; as you did."
"Well, there were six of them in my big box, and I ran up to get one."
"And then left the keys in the box?"
"Well, I suppose I did, in the hurry and confusion. Oh, Glynny, what a
beast I am! I wish I hadn't such a brute of a temper. It makes me
flare up all at once and say such nasty things; and you are always as
cool as a gourd, and get the best of me."
"Well, you should be more careful," said Glyn. "I wish, too, that you
hadn't such a temper. You ought to master it."
"I can't," said the lad sadly. "It always masters me. It's through
being born in such a hot climate, I suppose. Oh, I do hate to have to
be always begging your pardon."
"Then I suppose that's why you don't do it now?"
"Oh, you know, old chap! I do beg it heartily. You don't want me to go
down on my knees like a coolie?"
"Not I; only, somehow or other, I seem to be always ruffling up your
coat about something."
"Well, go on; I do deserve it," cried Singh. "I shall be such a good
boy some day, thanks to Professor Severn. No, no; don't lecture me any
more."
"Not going to, only to say one word or two that the dad used to say to
me when I had been flying out with some of the servants over yonder."
"Let's have it then, and done with it," said Singh with a sigh.
"`A man who cannot govern himself,'" said Glyn slowly, "`is not fit to
govern other people.'"
"Oh, but I shall be a splendid governor by the time you have finished me
off; and you will always be there to put me straight when I am going
crooked; and I say, don't go and spoil a jolly day by a fuss over such a
little matter as a bunch of keys."
"No, I won't," said Glyn. "But, you know, somebody might--"
"Bother somebody! And if he, she, or it had, I should have said that it
was all your fault."
"My fault? Why?"
"Because you wouldn't take charge of you know what."