Bunty the Bounty Hunter, page 10
“We’ll be fine,” Bunty intoned.
The words emerged in a gruff and hollow tone, and even to her own ears they sounded as if someone else had spoken. Marguerite opened her mouth, presumably to offer a more comforting statement, but then Tex and his men came surging into the bank.
“No more talking,” Tex said, pointing at Marguerite. “You have to get prepared to talk to the dead.”
He chuckled and then spread his six men out around the door and windows before shooing Marguerite and Bunty away to stand in the shadows. Then he moved on to face the bank vault.
“Give up now, Tex,” Marguerite said. “You’ll never get in there.”
“You need to hope that I do.” Tex turned to her. “If I don’t, you’ll soon have plenty more dead folk to talk to.”
Fifteen minutes after the fight erupted, the two teams separated and then sloped off to join the crowd on their respective sides of the playing area. Randolph couldn’t tell whether the fight had ended because the gentlemanly spirit of cricket had overcome everyone or because neither team would be able to win the game unless they stopped fighting.
When everyone was ready to play some more cricket, Randolph directed Spurgeon and Kelvin to join him on the edge of the field. Then he provided his latest ruling on the law. As he had given two of Spurgeon’s men out for obstructing the field, and Kelvin’s men had given as good as they had gotten during the skirmish, he declared that the opening two batsmen on Kelvin’s team were out for obstructing the field, too.
Spurgeon accepted this decision with an approving nod, but Kelvin frowned. When Spurgeon headed off toward the playing area, he drew Randolph back.
“Remember that you’re supposed to be making sure my team wins,” he said.
“I know,” Randolph said. “But I have to make it look believable enough for Spurgeon to accept my decisions.”
Kelvin gave a reluctant nod and Randolph left to apply the laws of cricket some more. As with the first innings, he didn’t have to wait long before he was called upon to make a decision.
As Randolph now knew that when Spurgeon had been bouncing the ball on a bat in his saloon every night he had been practicing the game, he could see that he had thought about how his team would conduct themselves. He spread out his fielders around the batsman with men behind the wicket and on either side leaving only a gap through which the bowler could bowl the ball.
When the batsman was ready, the bowler settled his feet wide apart, held out an arm to help him aim and then hurled the ball at the wicket. The batsman flailed his bat, but with unerring accuracy the ball thudded into the stumps. Everyone turned to Randolph and as he couldn’t think of any law that he could use to ignore this event, he spread his hands.
“That’s out, bowled,” he said. “The score is now no runs scored for three wickets lost.”
With the next ball the same thing happened and the stumps were again scattered, but the bowler then became over-confident and hurled the ball without aiming carefully. The next two balls narrowly missed his target leading to four wickets being lost without a run being scored when the new bowler took aim at the wicket.
His first two balls missed the wicket while the batsman waved his bat ineffectually, and with the batsman getting irritated by his failure to connect with the ball, for the third ball he held his bat in front of the stumps. Then he launched his bat at the ball with a mighty swing that could have replicated Spurgeon’s achievement and sent the ball sailing off toward the hotel, but his timing was poor.
The bat connected with a dull clunk and the ball merely leaped up for a few feet before dropping down. With a grunt of anger the man swung the bat backhanded and this time he hit the ball powerfully sending it sailing over the ring of fielders. He grinned at his success until Randolph pointed to the mound.
“You’re out for hitting the ball twice, batsman,” he said. “The score is now no runs scored for five wickets lost.”
With the situation looking bad for Kelvin’s team, Kelvin took it upon himself to come out on to the pitch next. He adopted the same strategy as the previous batsman had done of holding his bat before the stumps and swinging, but he connected more proficiently and the ball lobbed up over the fielders.
Someone was dispatched to collect the ball and by the time it had been thrown back, Kelvin had completed two runs. He beamed happily in Spurgeon’s direction, but Spurgeon ignored him and Kelvin leaned on his bat.
As the bowler then moved to bowl from beside the other set of stumps, Randolph found himself standing beside Kelvin, who checked that nobody could hear him and then spoke out of the corner of his mouth.
“I accept you have to make it look believable, but did you have to give all those men out?” he said.
“The ball hit the stumps and when everyone sees that happen, the batsman is out,” Randolph said. “If you can think of a reason why it isn’t out, I’d be obliged if you’d tell me.”
“I can’t tell you to do nothing.” Kelvin pointed at Randolph’s star. “You are the umpire, after all.”
Kelvin then moved away as the new bowler was approaching. Kelvin’s complaint made Randolph think through what he could remember about the laws, and that made him smile when he realized that despite his misgivings about being an umpire, he had now managed to apply most of the laws.
He had given several men out bowled, one had been caught, one had hit his wicket and one had put his leg before the wicket. He’d also used obstructing the field several times along with hitting the ball twice, handling the ball and being run out.
The only law he’d yet to apply was being stumped, but he couldn’t recall what that one entailed and he didn’t want to undermine his authority by peeking at the book in his pocket. So, as the next ball went hurtling toward the waiting batsman, he prepared to apply the law again.
This man managed to get his bat in the way of the ball, but the speed of the ball was so great it knocked the bat aside and then moved on to clunk into the stumps. Randolph toyed with the idea of using the stumped dismissal, but then shrugged and gave the batsman out bowled.
Kelvin shot him a disapproving look, but Randolph avoided catching his eye. He had to ignore him again when the next ball hammered into the stumps after the batsman had again failed to make contact. Then, as it turned out, Kelvin had no reason to complain, as the new batsman managed to get his bat in the way of the next two balls.
“The score is now two runs scored for seven wickets lost,” Randolph said as Spurgeon collected the ball and walked up to the wicket.
“That means my team has to score six more runs to win,” Kelvin said.
“And my team has to take three more wickets to win,” Spurgeon said.
“You do, but you’re not getting me out like I got you out.”
Spurgeon gestured angrily at Kelvin and Kelvin advanced a long pace toward him. Randolph reckoned that he would soon have to give a few more men out for obstructing the field, but Spurgeon then raised his hands.
“I reckon you could be right,” he said. “I don’t need to waste my time getting you out. Anyone can do something as easy as knocking your stumps over.”
He tossed the ball to another man and this man moved in to bowl. Kelvin shrugged with apparent disappointment, but he soon shook that off when his firm swing of the bat connected with the next ball and sent it flying over Randolph’s head.
Randolph turned around and the ball was bouncing along toward the mound. It didn’t go as far as Spurgeon had managed, but the crowd now appreciated the game of cricket enough to know that it wouldn’t help Kelvin’s cause if they threw the ball back. Kelvin managed four runs before a fielder reached the ball and threw it back to the bowler.
“The score is now six runs scored for seven wickets lost,” Randolph said.
“So my team needs two more runs to win,” Kelvin said.
Spurgeon didn’t take the opportunity to mention that his team still needed three more wickets to win. Kelvin rolled his shoulders and when the next ball came toward him he repeated the same movement as before.
Randolph turned around and again the ball was bouncing away. Kelvin hadn’t hit the ball as hard as the previous time and it bounced to a halt only a third of the way to the mound. A fielder lumbered after the ball and with it being clear that Kelvin had enough time to complete two runs and win the match, he chortled with delight.
Then he cursed and scuffling sounded making Randolph turn around. Kelvin had completed one run, but then two fielders had converged on him and now they were blocking him from running to the other end of the pitch while three fielders had thrown themselves on top of the other batsman and were pinning him to the ground.
The two batsmen struggled and squirmed but neither man could dislodge their assailants. Only when the ball arrived back in the bowler’s hand were they released.
“The score is now seven runs scored for seven wickets lost,” Randolph said.
“That can’t be right,” Kelvin said as he stepped away from the fielders and gathered up his dislodged hat. “Somebody has to be out for obstructing the field.”
“You weren’t obstructing anyone. You were being obstructed.” Randolph shrugged. “I can’t give a fielder out for obstructing you. There just isn’t a law against it.”
Kelvin opened and closed his mouth soundlessly and then slapped his hat back on his head.
“There ought to be one. There’s a law for everything else.”
Randolph smiled. “I suggest that next time you run faster.”
Kelvin nodded and then, as he was now standing by the set of stumps at the bowler’s end of the pitch, he settled down to find out how the other batsman fared. As it turned out, he didn’t do well.
The batsman’s rough treatment appeared to have unsettled him. He waved airily at the ball as it flew past his legs and then wandered off for several paces as if he thought he ought to try to make a run.
The fielder behind the stumps caught the ball. Then, with the ball still in his hands, he leaned forward and knocked over the wicket. Everyone then turned to Randolph, who again wondered if this situation gave him a chance to use the dismissal he’d not used yet of being out, stumped. Then he recalled a law he’d used for the first dismissal of the game.
“That’s out, run out due to the stumps being knocked over, the batsman wandering around and the ball touching a fielder.”
The batsman slouched off while Kelvin snarled at Randolph. When Randolph ignored him, he walked up to him.
“There has to be a limit to making this look believable,” he said. “I reckon the moment when my team has lost eight wickets is that time. Start finding laws to stop our batsmen from getting out.”
Randolph shrugged. “Stop complaining. The scores are now level. Your team can’t lose.”
Kelvin digested this information and then smiled, and he was still smiling when the new batsman lost his wicket from the next ball slamming into his stumps. With the bowler finishing his four balls, Kelvin stepped into position to take the next ball, and with only one run needed for victory, Spurgeon raised a hand for the ball.
Using the same approach that Kelvin had used when he’d bowled to him, Spurgeon walked away from the stumps so that he could take a long run before bowling the ball. For his part, as Spurgeon came running toward him, Kelvin rolled his shoulders with a confident gleam in his eye.
When Spurgeon was level with Randolph he hurled back his arm and then launched the ball. The ball flew at the stumps, but Kelvin advanced a pace to meet it and with a firm swing of his arms he hammered the ball away.
Randolph wondered if history would repeat itself by Spurgeon catching the ball, but Spurgeon was turning as the ball sailed away into the distance. The ball rose ever higher, even gaining height as it passed over the mound and only starting to drop when Randolph could barely pick it out against the sky.
It looked for a moment as if the ball would thud high up on the hotel wall, but it sailed over the roof and then disappeared from view. Spurgeon then shook off his surprise. Realizing now that his only chance to stave off defeat was to stop Kelvin completing a run, he set off toward him, but Kelvin was already bounding along.
With a confident leap Kelvin reached the other set of stumps before Spurgeon could intercept him while the other batsman hurried along to the other end of the pitch without anyone trying to stop him.
“We need a ball to play cricket, but I don’t believe that matters no more,” Kelvin said, smirking at Spurgeon.
“Your team can’t have won,” Spurgeon said.
Kelvin frowned and then turned to Randolph. “Then we should ask our umpire for his decision.”
Randolph considered which law he could apply and as he couldn’t think of an appropriate one, he shrugged and then stood before Kelvin.
“You’re out, stumped,” he said, having decided to complete his full set of dismissals.
“Stumped!” Kelvin spluttered as Spurgeon shook a fist in triumph. “I hit the ball over the hotel roof. How can that be out, stumped?”
“You touched your stumps with your bat,” Randolph ventured and when that sounded like a valid explanation of the law of being stumped, he firmed his jaw. “And that’s out.”
Kelvin hadn’t done this, but the fielder standing behind the stumps helped to reinforce Randolph’s decision by kicking one of the sticks out of the ground, so Randolph pointed at it. Kelvin turned to the stumps and then shook his head.
“You got that wrong. Stumped is when the fielder behind the stumps knocks over the wicket with the ball in his hand. When the batsman touches his wicket with his bat, that’s out, hit wicket.”
“I apologize. I may be the umpire, but I guess on this occasion I got it wrong.” Randolph waited until Kelvin beamed and Spurgeon frowned. Then he pointed at the knocked-over stump. “You’re out, hit wicket.”
Kelvin’s mouth fell open and he took several moments before he could force out a reply.
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that your team’s final score is seven runs scored for ten wickets lost, just like the other team’s final score.” Randolph smiled at both men. “I believe it’s called a tie.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You can’t declare the result a tie,” Kelvin said.
Randolph pointed at his star. “This star says I’m the umpire and that gives me the right to decide on the result.”
“But that can’t be right. We couldn’t have gone to all the trouble of playing an entire game just for nobody to end up winning.”
Randolph shrugged. “I reckon that’s cricket.”
“But what do we do about the prize money, and about everything else?”
Randolph rubbed his jaw as he struggled to find an answer, but he didn’t need to make a ruling when Spurgeon stepped forward.
“As nobody won and nobody lost, we should split the prize money equally,” he said.
Kelvin waved his arms while sneering at Randolph and Spurgeon in turn, but when neither man said anything else he let his shoulders slump in resignation.
“I guess that’s the only thing we can do,” he said through gritted teeth.
“In that case, I’ll come to the bank later and collect my half of the money.”
“By all means come to the bank,” Kelvin said while closing a hand into a tight fist.
“I agree that it would have been better if one of us had come out on top,” Spurgeon said, seemingly misinterpreting the reason for Kelvin’s anger. “But as I’ve got a hankering to play this game some more, I reckon next year we should play cricket again, same place, same stakes.”
“And hopefully not the same result,” Kelvin grumbled before nodding.
“If that’s what happens, so be it. All that’ll matter is that we play the game in a gentlemanly manner and that we have an umpire like Randolph available who can apply the law with impartiality and integrity.”
After the events of the last hour neither Kelvin nor Randolph could think of anything to say to that so Spurgeon left them to join his team. Then Spurgeon and his men sloped off toward their half of the crowd, leaving Randolph and Kelvin to join Kelvin’s team.
“You were supposed to make sure that my team won,” Kelvin said as they headed to the mound.
“I reckon that’s a matter you ought to discuss with Fergal,” Randolph said.
“I’m discussing it with you. You work with Fergal and he wanted you to be the umpire, not him. Even if I can talk some of my associates into not withdrawing their share of the five hundred dollars from the bank immediately, I still have to give five hundred dollars to Spurgeon later today, which I haven’t got.”
Randolph didn’t want to provide an answer, but thankfully Fergal hurried on to intercept them.
“We shouldn’t be seen talking,” Fergal said when he joined them. Then he turned around to continue walking with them toward the mound. “So we’ll make this quick.”
“That’s a good idea,” Kelvin said. “I don’t want there to be any witnesses when I wring your neck.”
Fergal bristled. “That’s not a polite way to talk to a customer.”
“You’re not one of my bank’s customers. You’re just some fool that I hired to sort out a problem and who couldn’t even make sure that my team won a game where nobody understood the laws.”
“Randolph understood them well enough to make sure nobody won.” They were approaching the gathered crowd so Fergal stopped and turned to Kelvin. “And I understood them well enough to save your bank.”
“How did making sure my team didn’t win that game do that?”
“Because Godfrey Overton conducts a popular and highly illegal pursuit in the Lonely Trails gambling house. He let people gamble on the result of this game. Most sensible folk bet on the old town winning while the speculative ones played the odds and bet on the new town. One man decided to bet on a result that nobody else had even thought possible. That result was a tie and that man was me.”
Kelvin’s eyes opened wide before he shook himself and then edged closer.
