obviously waiting to waylay him. He made a point of writing out the order of going in before leaving the pavilion. It was the same order as before, except that Jan promoted the last two men and wrote his own name last of all.
"I'll turn up if I can," he announced as he tacked himself on to Charles Cave, of all people, to Evan's final discomfiture. "But let's hope I shan't be wanted; unless it's a case of watching the other fellow make the winning hit, I shall be as much use in my study as on the pitch."
Evan heard this as he walked as near them as he very well could. The narrow street was a running river of men and boys with glistening foreheads, who hugged the shadows and shrank ungratefully from the first hot sunshine of the term. Charles Cave, stalking indolently next the wall, said he hoped Jan was going up to the 'Varsity, as they wanted bowlers there, and a man who could bowl like that would stand a good chance of his Blue at either Oxford or Cambridge. Jan replied that he was afraid he was not going to either, but to the Colonies, a scheme which the other seemed to consider so deplorable that Evan dropped out of earshot from a feeling that the conversation was beginning to take a private turn. And sure enough, after a pause, it took one that surprised Jan himself almost as much as it did Charles Cave.
"Beggars can't be choosers," said Jan with apparent deliberation, but in reality on as sudden an impulse as ever dictated spoken words. "You see, you don't know what it is to be a beggar, Cave!"
"I don't, I'm glad to say."
"Well, I do, and it's rather awkward when you're captain of the Eleven."
"It must be."
