Psmith Series - P. G. Wodehouse

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at his end, getting here and there a single and now and then a two, and Mike settled down at once to play what he felt was going to be the innings of a lifetime.; Appleby’s bowling was on the feeble side, with Raikes, of the third eleven, as the star, supported by some small change.; Mike pounded it vigorously.; To one who had been brought up on Saunders, Raikes possessed few subtleties.; He had made seventeen, and was thoroughly set, when the Gazeka, who had the bowling, hit one in the direction of cover-point.; With a certain type of batsman a single is a thing to take big risks for.; And the Gazeka badly wanted that single.

      “Come on,” he shouted, prancing down the pitch.

      Mike, who had remained in his crease with the idea that nobody even moderately sane would attempt a run for a hit like that, moved forward in a startled and irresolute manner.; Firby-Smith arrived, shouting “Run!” and, cover having thrown the ball in, the wicket-keeper removed the bails.

      These are solemn moments.

      The only possible way of smoothing over an episode of this kind is for the guilty man to grovel.

      Firby-Smith did not grovel.

      “Easy run there, you know,” he said reprovingly.

      The world swam before Mike’s eyes.; Through the red mist he could see Firby-Smith’s face.; The sun glinted on his rather prominent teeth.; To Mike’s distorted vision it seemed that the criminal was amused.

      “Don’t laugh, you grinning ape!” he cried.; “It isn’t funny.”

      He then made for the trees where the rest of the team were sitting.

      Now Firby-Smith not only possessed rather prominent teeth; he was also sensitive on the subject.; Mike’s shaft sank in deeply.; The fact that emotion caused him to swipe at a straight half-volley, miss it, and be bowled next ball made the wound rankle.

      He avoided Mike on his return to the trees.; And Mike, feeling now a little apprehensive, avoided him.

      The Gazeka brooded apart for the rest of the afternoon, chewing the insult.; At close of play he sought Burgess.

      Burgess, besides being captain of the eleven, was also head of the school.; He was the man who arranged prefects’ meetings.; And only a prefects’ meeting, thought Firby-Smith, could adequately avenge his lacerated dignity.

      “I want to speak to you, Burgess,” he said.

      “What’s up?” said Burgess.

      “You know young Jackson in our house.”

      “What about him?”

      “He’s been frightfully insolent.”

      “Cheeked you?” said Burgess, a man of simple speech.

      “I want you to call a prefects’ meeting, and lick him.”

      Burgess looked incredulous.

      “Rather a large order, a prefects’ meeting,” he said.; “It has to be a pretty serious sort of thing for that.”

      “Frightful cheek to a school prefect is a serious thing,” said Firby-Smith, with the air of one uttering an epigram.

      “Well, I suppose—­What did he say to you?”

      Firby-Smith related the painful details.

      Burgess started to laugh, but turned the laugh into a cough.

      “Yes,” he said meditatively.; “Rather thick.; Still, I mean—­A prefects’ meeting.; Rather like crushing a thingummy with a what-d’you-call-it.; Besides, he’s a decent kid.”

      “He’s frightfully conceited.”

      “Oh, well—­Well, anyhow, look here, I’ll think it over, and let you know to-morrow.; It’s not the sort of thing to rush through without thinking about it.”

      And the matter was left temporarily at that.

      CHAPTER XV

      MIKE CREATES A VACANCY

       Table of Contents

      Burgess walked off the ground feeling that fate was not using him well.

      Here was he, a well-meaning youth who wanted to be on good terms with all the world, being jockeyed into slaughtering a kid whose batting he admired and whom personally he liked.; And the worst of it was that he sympathised with Mike.; He knew what it felt like to be run out just when one had got set, and he knew exactly how maddening the Gazeka’s manner would be on such an occasion.; On the other hand, officially he was bound to support the head of Wain’s.; Prefects must stand together or chaos will come.

      He thought he would talk it over with somebody.; Bob occurred to him.; It was only fair that Bob should be told, as the nearest of kin.

      And here was another grievance against fate.; Bob was a person he did not particularly wish to see just then.; For that morning he had posted up the list of the team to play for the school against Geddington, one of the four schools which Wrykyn met at cricket; and Bob’s name did not appear on that list.; Several things had contributed to that melancholy omission.; In the first place, Geddington, to judge from the weekly reports in the Sportsman and Field, were strong this year at batting.; In the second place, the results of the last few matches, and particularly the M.C.C. match, had given Burgess the idea that Wrykyn was weak at bowling.; It became necessary, therefore, to drop a batsman out of the team in favour of a bowler.; And either Mike or Bob must be the man.

      Burgess was as rigidly conscientious as the captain of a school eleven should be.; Bob was one of his best friends, and he would have given much to be able to put him in the team; but he thought the thing over, and put the temptation sturdily behind him.; At batting there was not much to choose between the two, but in fielding there was a great deal.; Mike was good.; Bob was bad.; So out Bob had gone, and Neville-Smith, a fair fast bowler at all times and on his day dangerous, took his place.

      These clashings of public duty with private inclination are the drawbacks to the despotic position of captain of cricket at a public school.; It is awkward having to meet your best friend after you have dropped him from the team, and it is difficult to talk to him as if nothing had happened.

      Burgess felt very self-conscious as he entered Bob’s study, and was rather glad that he had a topic of conversation ready to hand.

      “Busy, Bob?” he asked.

      “Hullo,” said Bob, with a cheerfulness rather over-done in his anxiety to show Burgess, the man, that he did not hold him responsible in any way for the distressing acts of Burgess, the captain.; “Take a pew.; Don’t these studies get beastly hot this weather.; There’s some ginger-beer in the cupboard.; Have some?”

      “No, thanks.; I say, Bob, look here, I want to see you.”

      “Well, you can, can’t you?; This is me, sitting over here.; The tall, dark, handsome chap.”

      “It’s awfully awkward, you know,” continued Burgess gloomily; “that ass of a young brother of yours—­Sorry, but he is an ass, though he’s your brother——­”

      “Thanks for the ‘though,’ Billy.; You know how to put a thing nicely.; What’s Mike been up to?”

      “It’s that old fool the Gazeka.; He came to me frothing with rage, and wanted me to call a prefects’ meeting and touch young Mike up.”

      Bob displayed interest and excitement for the first time.

      “Prefects’ meeting!; What the dickens is up?; What’s he been doing?; Smith must be drunk.; What’s all the row about?”

      Burgess repeated

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