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Updated: June 22, 2025
He still harbored 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.
The Head listened to the amateur detective's statement with interest. "Indeed?" he said, when Mr. Downing had finished, "Indeed? Dear me! It certainly seems ... It is a curiously well-connected thread of evidence. You are certain that there was red paint on this shoe you discovered in Mr. Outwood's house?" "I have it with me. I brought it on purpose to show to you. Smith!" "Sir?"
Without waiting to discover what this might be, he leaned his bicycle against the wall, went out, and locked the door, after which he ran across to Outwood's. Fortune had favored his undertaking by decreeing that a stout drainpipe should pass up the wall within a few inches of his and Psmith's study.
Wouldn't go as far as to say that, sir, 'cos yer see, I'm feeflee good at spottin', but it was a dark night." Mr. Downing rose to go. "Well," he said, "the search is now considerably narrowed down, considerably! It is certain that the boy was one of the boys in Mr. Outwood's house." "Young monkeys!" interjected the sergeant helpfully "Good afternoon, Sergeant." "Good afternoon to you, sir."
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."
Psmith leaned against the mantelpiece in the senior day room at Outwood's since Mike's innings against Downing's the Lost Lambs had been received as brothers by the center of disorder, so that even Spiller was compelled to look on the hatchet as buried and gave his views on the events of the preceding night, or, rather, of that morning, for it was nearer one than twelve when peace had once more fallen on the school.
Barnes, the head of Outwood's, he who preferred not to interfere with Stone and Robinson, was a mild, rather timid-looking youth not unlike what Mr. Outwood must have been as a boy but he knew how to keep balls out of his wicket. He was a good bat of the old plodding type.
I went round the dormitories as usual at eleven o'clock last night, and all the boys were asleep all of them." Mr. Downing was not listening. He was in a state of suppressed excitement and exultation which made it hard for him to attend to his colleague's slow utterances. He had a clue! Now that the search had narrowed itself down to Outwood's house, the rest was comparatively easy.
Outwood's boast that no boy has ever asked for a cubic foot of air in vain. He argues justly " He broke off abruptly and began to watch the other's maneuvers in silence. Mr. Downing was peering rapidly beneath each bed in turn. "Are you looking for Barnes, sir?" inquired Psmith politely. "I think he's out in the field." Mr.
You are certain that there was red paint on this boot you discovered in Mr. Outwood's house?" "I have it with me. I brought it on purpose to show to you. Smith!" "Sir?" "You have the boot?" "Ah," said the headmaster, putting on a pair of pince-nez, "now let me look at This, you say, is the ? Just so. Just so. Just.... But, er, Mr.
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