CHAPTER VII
IN WHICH MIKE IS DISCUSSED
Trevor and Clowes, of Donaldson's, were sitting in their study a weekafter the gramophone incident, preparatory to going on the river. Atleast Trevor was in the study, getting tea ready. Clowes was on thewindow-sill, one leg in the room, the other outside, hanging overspace. He loved to sit in this attitude, watching some one else work,and giving his views on life to whoever would listen to them. Cloweswas tall, and looked sad, which he was not. Trevor was shorter, andvery much in earnest over all that he did. On the present occasion hewas measuring out tea with a concentration worthy of a generalplanning a campaign.
"One for the pot," said Clowes.
"All right," breathed Trevor. "Come and help, you slacker."
"Too busy."
"You aren't doing a stroke."
"My lad, I'm thinking of Life. That's a thing you couldn't do. I oftensay to people, 'Good chap, Trevor, but can't think of Life. Give him atea-pot and half a pound of butter to mess about with,' I say, 'andhe's all right. But when it comes to deep thought, where is he? Amongthe also-rans.' That's what I say."
"Silly ass," said Trevor, slicing bread. "What particular rot were youthinking about just then? What fun it was sitting back and watchingother fellows work, I should think."
"My mind at the moment," said Clowes, "was tensely occupied with theproblem of brothers at school. Have you got any brothers, Trevor?"
"One. Couple of years younger than me. I say, we shall want some morejam to-morrow. Better order it to-day."
"See it done, Tigellinus, as our old pal Nero used to remark. Where ishe? Your brother, I mean."
"Marlborough."
"That shows your sense. I have always had a high opinion of yoursense, Trevor. If you'd been a silly ass, you'd have let your peoplesend him here."
"Why not? Shouldn't have minded."
"I withdraw what I said about your sense. Consider it unsaid. I have abrother myself. Aged fifteen. Not a bad chap in his way. Like theheroes of the school stories. 'Big blue eyes literally bubbling overwith fun.' At least, I suppose it's fun to him. Cheek's what I callit. My people wanted to send him here. I lodged a protest. I said,'One Clowes is ample for any public school.'"
"You were right there," said Trevor.
"I said, 'One Clowes is luxury, two excess.' I pointed out that I wasjust on the verge of becoming rather a blood at Wrykyn, and that Ididn't want the work of years spoiled by a brother who would think ita rag to tell fellows who respected and admired me----"
"Such as who?"
"----Anecdotes of a chequered infancy. There are stories about mewhich only my brother knows. Did I want them spread about the school?No, laddie, I did not. Hence, we see my brother two terms ago, packingup his little box, and tooling off to Rugby. And here am I at Wrykyn,with an unstained reputation, loved by all who know me, revered by allwho don't; courted by boys, fawned upon by masters. People's facesbrighten when I throw them a nod. If I frown----"
"Oh, come on," said Trevor.
Bread and jam and cake monopolised Clowes's attention for the nextquarter of an hour. At the end of that period, however, he returned tohis subject.
"After the serious business of the meal was concluded, and a simplehymn had been sung by those present," he said, "Mr. Clowes resumed hisvery interesting remarks. We were on the subject of brothers atschool. Now, take the melancholy case of Jackson Brothers. My heartbleeds for Bob."
"Jackson's all right. What's wrong with him? Besides, naturally, youngJackson came to Wrykyn when all his brothers had been here."
"What a rotten argument. It's just the one used by chaps' people, too.They think how nice it will be for all the sons to have been at thesame school. It may be all right after they're left, but while they'rethere, it's the limit. You say Jackson's all right. At present,perhaps, he is. But the term's hardly started yet."
"Well?"
"Look here, what's at the bottom of this sending young brothers to thesame school as elder brothers?"
"Elder brother can keep an eye on him, I suppose."
"That's just it. For once in your life you've touched the spot. Inother words, Bob Jackson is practically responsible for the kid.That's where the whole rotten trouble starts."
"Why?"
"Well, what happens? He either lets the kid rip, in which case he mayfind himself any morning in the pleasant position of having to explainto his people exactly why it is that little Willie has just receivedthe boot, and why he didn't look after him better: or he spends allhis spare time shadowing him to see that he doesn't get into trouble.He feels that his reputation hangs on the kid's conduct, so he broodsover him like a policeman, which is pretty rotten for him and maddensthe kid, who looks on him as no sportsman. Bob seems to be trying thefirst way, which is what I should do myself. It's all right, so far,but, as I said, the term's only just started."
"Young Jackson seems all right. What's wrong with him? He doesn'tstick on side any way, which he might easily do, considering hiscricket."
"There's nothing wrong with him in that way. I've talked to himseveral times at the nets, and he's very decent. But his getting intotrouble hasn't anything to do with us. It's the masters you've got toconsider."
"What's up? Does he rag?"
"From what I gather from fellows in his form he's got a genius forragging. Thinks of things that don't occur to anybody else, and doesthem, too."
"He never seems to be in extra. One always sees him about onhalf-holidays."
"That's always the way with that sort of chap. He keeps on wrigglingout of small rows till he thinks he can do anything he likes withoutbeing dropped on, and then all of a sudden he finds himself up to theeyebrows in a record smash. I don't say young Jackson will landhimself like that. All I say is that he's just the sort who does. He'sasking for trouble. Besides, who do you see him about with all thetime?"
"He's generally with Wyatt when I meet him."
"Yes. Well, then!"
"What's wrong with Wyatt? He's one of the decentest men in theschool."
"I know. But he's working up for a tremendous row one of these days,unless he leaves before it comes off. The odds are, if Jackson's sothick with him, that he'll be roped into it too. Wyatt wouldn't landhim if he could help it, but he probably wouldn't realise what he wasletting the kid in for. For instance, I happen to know that Wyattbreaks out of his dorm. every other night. I don't know if he takesJackson with him. I shouldn't think so. But there's nothing to preventJackson following him on his own. And if you're caught at that game,it's the boot every time."
Trevor looked disturbed.
"Somebody ought to speak to Bob."
"What's the good? Why worry him? Bob couldn't do anything. You'd onlymake him do the policeman business, which he hasn't time for, andwhich is bound to make rows between them. Better leave him alone."
"I don't know. It would be a beastly thing for Bob if the kid did getinto a really bad row."
"If you must tell anybody, tell the Gazeka. He's head of Wain's, andhas got far more chance of keeping an eye on Jackson than Bob has."
"The Gazeka is a fool."
"All front teeth and side. Still, he's on the spot. But what's thegood of worrying. It's nothing to do with us, anyhow. Let's staggerout, shall we?"
* * * * *
Trevor's conscientious nature, however, made it impossible for him todrop the matter. It disturbed him all the time that he and Clowes wereon the river; and, walking back to the house, he resolved to see Bobabout it during preparation.
He found him in his study, oiling a bat.
"I say, Bob," he said, "look here. Are you busy?"
"No. Why?"
"It's this way. Clowes and I were talking----"
"If Clowes was there he was probably talking. Well?"
"About your brother."
"Oh, by Jove," said Bob, sitting up. "That reminds me. I forgot to getthe evening paper. Did he get his century all right?"
; "Who?" asked Trevor, bewildered.
"My brother, J. W. He'd made sixty-three not out against Kent in thismorning's paper. What happened?"
"I didn't get a paper either. I didn't mean that brother. I meant theone here."
"Oh, Mike? What's Mike been up to?"
"Nothing as yet, that I know of; but, I say, you know, he seems agreat pal of Wyatt's."
"I know. I spoke to him about it."
"Oh, you did? That's all right, then."
"Not that there's anything wrong with Wyatt."
"Not a bit. Only he is rather mucking about this term, I hear. It'shis last, so I suppose he wants to have a rag."
"Don't blame him."
"Nor do I. Rather rot, though, if he lugged your brother into a row byaccident."
"I should get blamed. I think I'll speak to him again."
"I should, I think."
"I hope he isn't idiot enough to go out at night with Wyatt. If Wyattlikes to risk it, all right. That's his look out. But it won't do forMike to go playing the goat too."
"Clowes suggested putting Firby-Smith on to him. He'd have morechance, being in the same house, of seeing that he didn't come amucker than you would."
"I've done that. Smith said he'd speak to him."
"That's all right then. Is that a new bat?"
"Got it to-day. Smashed my other yesterday--against the school house."
Donaldson's had played a friendly with the school house during thelast two days, and had beaten them.
"I thought I heard it go. You were rather in form."
"Better than at the beginning of the term, anyhow. I simply couldn'tdo a thing then. But my last three innings have been 33 not out, 18,and 51.
"I should think you're bound to get your first all right."
"Hope so. I see Mike's playing for the second against the O.W.s."
"Yes. Pretty good for his first term. You have a pro. to coach you inthe holidays, don't you?"
"Yes. I didn't go to him much this last time. I was away a lot. ButMike fairly lived inside the net."
"Well, it's not been chucked away. I suppose he'll get his first nextyear. There'll be a big clearing-out of colours at the end of thisterm. Nearly all the first are leaving. Henfrey'll be captain, Iexpect."
"Saunders, the pro. at home, always says that Mike's going to be thestar cricketer of the family. Better than J. W. even, he thinks. Iasked him what he thought of me, and he said, 'You'll be making a lotof runs some day, Mr. Bob.' There's a subtle difference, isn't there?I shall have Mike cutting me out before I leave school if I'm notcareful."
"Sort of infant prodigy," said Trevor. "Don't think he's quite up toit yet, though."
He went back to his study, and Bob, having finished his oiling andwashed his hands, started on his Thucydides. And, in the stress ofwrestling with the speech of an apparently delirious Athenian general,whose remarks seemed to contain nothing even remotely resembling senseand coherence, he allowed the question of Mike's welfare to fade fromhis mind like a dissolving view.
Mike Page 8