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Updated: June 22, 2025
I am sorry that it is even an Old Boy. It was a foolish, discreditable thing to have done, but it is not as bad as if any boy still at the school had broken out of his house at night to do it." "The sergeant," said Mr. Downing, "told me that the boy he saw was attempting to enter Mr. Outwood's house." "Another freak of Dunster's, I suppose," said the headmaster. "I shall write to him."
On this occasion, however, reckless of possible injuries to the crease of his trousers, he raced down the road, and turning in at Outwood's gate, bounded upstairs like a highly trained professional athlete. On arriving at the study, his first act was to remove a shoe from the top of the pile in the basket, place it in the small cupboard under the bookshelf, and lock the cupboard.
This must be Sedleigh. Ten minutes' walk brought him to the school gates, and a baker's boy directed him to Mr. Outwood's. There were three houses in a row, separated from the school buildings by a cricket field. Outwood's was the middle one of these. Mike went to the front door and knocked.
It was not until after school that an opportunity offered itself. He went across to Outwood's and found the two nonstarters in the senior day room, engaged in the intellectual pursuit of kicking the wall and marking the height of each kick with chalk. Adair's entrance coincided with a record effort by Stone, which caused the kicker to overbalance and stagger backward against the captain.
He still harboured a feeling of resentment against the school in general and Adair in particular, but it was pleasant in Outwood's now that he had got to know some of the members of the house, and he liked playing cricket for Lower Borlock; also, he was fairly certain that his father would not let him go to Cambridge if he were expelled from Sedleigh. Mr.
"Look here," said Spiller, "are you going to clear out of here or not?" "After Mr. Outwood's kindly thought in giving us the room? You suggest a black and ungrateful action, Comrade Spiller." "You'll get it hot, if you don't." "We'll risk it," said Mike. Jellicoe giggled in the background; the drama in the atmosphere appealed to him. His was a simple and appreciative mind.
In a neat wooden frame in the senior day room at Outwood's, just above the mantlepiece, there was on view, a week later, a slip of paper. The writing on it was as follows: OUTWOOD'S v. Outwood's. First innings. J.P. Barnes, c. Hammond, b. Downing's did not bat. Outwood's rollicked considerably that night. Mike, if he had cared to take the part, could have been the Petted Hero.
Feeling aggrieved with himself that he had not thought of this before, he, too, hurried over to Outwood's. Mr. Downing was brisk and peremptory. "I wish to look at these boots again," he said. Psmith, with a sigh, laid down his novel, and rose to assist him. "Sit down, Smith," said the housemaster. "I can manage without your help."
Pedestrians who had the good fortune to be passing along the road between the housemaster's house and Mr. Outwood's at that moment saw what, if they had but known it, was a most unusual sight, the spectacle of Psmith running. Psmith's usual mode of progression was a dignified walk. He believed in the contemplative style rather than the hustling.
Outwood's house had been seen breaking in after lights-out; but it would have been very difficult for the authorities to have narrowed the search down any further than that. There were thirty-four boys in Outwood's, of whom about fourteen were much the same size and build as Mike. The suddenness, however, of the call caused Mike to lose his head.
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