Mike

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER XV

  MIKE CREATES A VACANCY

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

  Here was he, a well-meaning youth who wanted to be on good terms withall the world, being jockeyed into slaughtering a kid whose batting headmired and whom personally he liked. And the worst of it was that hesympathised with Mike. He knew what it felt like to be run out justwhen one had got set, and he knew exactly how maddening the Gazeka'smanner would be on such an occasion. On the other hand, officially hewas bound to support the head of Wain's. Prefects must stand togetheror 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 didnot particularly wish to see just then. For that morning he had postedup the list of the team to play for the school against Geddington, oneof the four schools which Wrykyn met at cricket; and Bob's name didnot appear on that list. Several things had contributed to thatmelancholy omission. In the first place, Geddington, to judge from theweekly reports in the _Sportsman_ and _Field_, were strong thisyear at batting. In the second place, the results of the last fewmatches, and particularly the M.C.C. match, had given Burgess theidea that Wrykyn was weak at bowling. It became necessary, therefore,to drop a batsman out of the team in favour of a bowler. And eitherMike or Bob must be the man.

  Burgess was as rigidly conscientious as the captain of a school elevenshould be. Bob was one of his best friends, and he would have givenmuch 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 notmuch 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, afair fast bowler at all times and on his day dangerous, took his place.

  These clashings of public duty with private inclination are thedrawbacks to the despotic position of captain of cricket at a publicschool. It is awkward having to meet your best friend after you havedropped him from the team, and it is difficult to talk to him as ifnothing had happened.

  Burgess felt very self-conscious as he entered Bob's study, and wasrather 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 anxietyto show Burgess, the man, that he did not hold him responsible inany way for the distressing acts of Burgess, the captain. "Take apew. Don't these studies get beastly hot this weather. There's someginger-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; "thatass 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, andwanted 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 the main facts of the case as he had them fromFirby-Smith.

  "Personally, I sympathise with the kid," he added, "Still, the Gazeka_is_ a prefect----"

  Bob gnawed a pen-holder morosely.

  "Silly young idiot," he said.

  "Sickening thing being run out," suggested Burgess.

  "Still----"

  "I know. It's rather hard to see what to do. I suppose if the Gazekainsists, one's bound to support him."

  "I suppose so."

  "Awful rot. Prefects' lickings aren't meant for that sort of thing.They're supposed to be for kids who steal buns at the shop or muckabout generally. Not for a chap who curses a fellow who runs him out.I tell you what, there's just a chance Firby-Smith won't press thething. He hadn't had time to get over it when he saw me. By now he'llhave simmered down a bit. Look here, you're a pal of his, aren't you?Well, go and ask him to drop the business. Say you'll curse yourbrother and make him apologise, and that I'll kick him out of the teamfor the Geddington match."

  It was a difficult moment for Bob. One cannot help one's thoughts, andfor an instant the idea of going to Geddington with the team, as hewould certainly do if Mike did not play, made him waver. But herecovered himself.

  "Don't do that," he said. "I don't see there's a need for anything ofthat sort. You must play the best side you've got. I can easily talkthe old Gazeka over. He gets all right in a second if he's treated theright way. I'll go and do it now."

  Burgess looked miserable.

  "I say, Bob," he said.

  "Yes?"

  "Oh, nothing--I mean, you're not a bad sort." With which glowingeulogy he dashed out of the room, thanking his stars that he had wonthrough a confoundedly awkward business.

  Bob went across to Wain's to interview and soothe Firby-Smith.

  He found that outraged hero sitting moodily in his study like Achillesin his tent.

  Seeing Bob, he became all animation.

  "Look here," he said, "I wanted to see you. You know, that frightfulyoung brother of yours----"

  "I know, I know," said Bob. "Burgess was telling me. He wantskicking."

  "He wants a frightful licking from the prefects," emended theaggrieved party.

  "Well, I don't know, you know. Not much good lugging the prefects intoit, is there? I mean, apart from everything else, not much of a catchfor me, would it be, having to sit there and look on. I'm a prefect,too, you know."

  Firby-Smith looked a little blank at this. He had a great admirationfor Bob.

  "I didn't think of you," he said.

  "I thought you hadn't," said Bob. "You see it now, though, don't you?"

  Firby-Smith returned to the original grievance.

  "Well, you know, it was frightful cheek."

  "Of course it was. Still, I think if I saw him and cursed him, andsent him up to you to apologise--How would that do?"

  "All right. After all, I did run him out."

  "Yes, there's that, of course. Mike's all right, really. It isn't asif he did that sort of thing as a habit."

  "No. All right then."

  "Thanks," said Bob, and went to find Mike.

  * * * * *

  The lecture on deportment which he read that future All-Englandbatsman in a secluded passage near the junior day-room left the latterrather limp and exceedingly meek. For the moment all the jauntinessand exuberance had been drained out of him. He was a puncturedballoon. Reflection, and the distinctly discouraging replies of thoseexperts in school law to whom he had put the question, "What d'youthink he'll do?" had induced a very chastened frame of mind.

  He perceived that he had walked very nearly into a hornets' nest, andthe realisation of his escape made him agree readily to all theconditions imposed. The apology to the Gazeka was made withoutreserve, and the offensively forgiving, say-no-more-about-it-but-takecare-in-future air of the head of the house roused no spark ofresentment in him, so subdued was his fighting spirit. All he wantedwas to get the thing done with. He was not inclined to be critical.

  And, most of all, he felt grateful to Bob. Firby-Smith, in the courseof his address, had not omitted to lay stress on the importance ofBob's intervention. But for Bob, he gave him to understand, he, Mike,would have been prosecuted with the utmost rigour of the law. Mikecame away with a confused picture in his mind of a horde of furiousprefects bent on his slaughter, after the manner of a stage "excitedcrowd," and Bob waving them back. He realised that Bob had done him agood turn. He wished he could find some way of repaying him.

  Curiously enough, it was an enemy of Bob's who suggested theway--Burton, of Donaldson's.
Burton was a slippery young gentleman,fourteen years of age, who had frequently come into contact withBob in the house, and owed him many grudges. With Mike he had alwaystried to form an alliance, though without success.

  He happened to meet Mike going to school next morning, and unburdenedhis soul to him. It chanced that Bob and he had had another smallencounter immediately after breakfast, and Burton felt revengeful.

  "I say," said Burton, "I'm jolly glad you're playing for the firstagainst Geddington."

  "Thanks," said Mike.

  "I'm specially glad for one reason."

  "What's that?" inquired Mike, without interest.

  "Because your beast of a brother has been chucked out. He'd have beenplaying but for you."

  At any other time Mike would have heard Bob called a beast withoutactive protest. He would have felt that it was no business of his tofight his brother's battles for him. But on this occasion he deviatedfrom his rule.

  He kicked Burton. Not once or twice, but several times, so thatBurton, retiring hurriedly, came to the conclusion that it must besomething in the Jackson blood, some taint, as it were. They were_all_ beasts.

  * * * * *

  Mike walked on, weighing this remark, and gradually made up his mind.It must be remembered that he was in a confused mental condition, andthat the only thing he realised clearly was that Bob had pulled himout of an uncommonly nasty hole. It seemed to him that it wasnecessary to repay Bob. He thought the thing over more fully duringschool, and his decision remained unaltered.

  On the evening before the Geddington match, just before lock-up, Miketapped at Burgess's study door. He tapped with his right hand, for hisleft was in a sling.

  "Come in!" yelled the captain. "Hullo!"

  "I'm awfully sorry, Burgess," said Mike. "I've crocked my wrist abit."

  "How did you do that? You were all right at the nets?"

  "Slipped as I was changing," said Mike stolidly.

  "Is it bad?"

  "Nothing much. I'm afraid I shan't be able to play to-morrow."

  "I say, that's bad luck. Beastly bad luck. We wanted your batting,too. Be all right, though, in a day or two, I suppose?"

  "Oh, yes, rather."

  "Hope so, anyway."

  "Thanks. Good-night."

  "Good-night."

  And Burgess, with the comfortable feeling that he had managed tocombine duty and pleasure after all, wrote a note to Bob atDonaldson's, telling him to be ready to start with the team forGeddington by the 8.54 next morning.