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"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.
One would have felt, looking at him, that Mike, in coming to his den, was doing a deed which would make the achievement of Daniel seem in comparison like the tentative effort of some timid novice. And certainly Mike was not without qualms as he knocked at the door, and went in in response to the hoarse roar from the other side of it. Firby-Smith straightened his tie, and glared.
There was no disguising the fact that he would be in the way; but how convey this fact delicately to him? "Look here, Mike," he said, with a happy inspiration, "Firby-Smith and I are just going to get some tea. I think you'd better nip up to the school. Probably Wain will want to see you, and tell you all about things, which is your dorm. and so on. See you later," he concluded airily.
The fact that he was playing for the school seemed to make no difference at all. Firby-Smith continued to address Mike merely as the small boy. The following, verbatim, was the tactful speech which he addressed to him on the evening of the M.C.C. match, having summoned him to his study for the purpose.
Firby-Smith scratched away 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.
The Gazeka, blushing warmly, stepped forward. "Bring me a school list, Firby-Smith," said the headmaster. The Gazeka was wearing a pair of very squeaky boots that morning. They sounded deafening as he walked out of the room. The school waited. Presently a distant squeaking was heard, and Firby-Smith returned, bearing a large sheet of paper.
The rather large grain of truth in what Firby-Smith had said had gone home, as the unpleasant truth about ourselves is apt to do; and his feelings were hurt. He was determined not to give in and say that he saw even if the head of the house invoked all the majesty of the prefects' room to help him, as he had nearly done once before. He set his teeth, and stared at a photograph on the wall.
And my pater always has a pro. down in the Easter holidays, which gave me a bit of an advantage." "All the same, seven centuries isn't so dusty against any bowling. We shall want some batting in the house this term. Look here, I was just going to have some tea. You come along, too." "Oh, thanks awfully," said Mike. "My brother and Firby-Smith have gone to a place called Cook's." "The old Gazeka?
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