Mr. Outwood’s eyes sparkled behind their pince-nez. It was a disappointment to him that so few boys seemed to wish to belong to his chosen band. Cricket and football, games that left him cold, appeared to be the main interest in their lives. It was but rarely that he could induce new boys to join. His colleague, Mr. Downing, who presided over the School Fire Brigade, never had any difficulty in finding support. Boys came readily at his call. Mr. Outwood pondered wistfully on this at times, not knowing that the Fire Brigade owed its support to the fact that it provided its light-hearted members with perfectly unparalleled opportunities for ragging, while his own band, though small, were in the main earnest.
“Yes, Smith.” he said. “Yes. We have a small Archaeological Society. I—er—in a measure look after it. Perhaps you would care to become a member?”
“Please, sir—” said Spiller.
“One moment, Spiller. Do you want to join, Smith?”
“Intensely, sir. Archaeology fascinates me. A grand pursuit, sir.”
“Undoubtedly, Smith. I am very pleased, very pleased indeed. I will put down your name at once.”
“And Jackson’s, sir.”
“Jackson, too!” Mr. Outwood beamed. “I am delighted. Most delighted. This is capital. This enthusiasm is most capital.”
“Spiller, sir,” said Psmith sadly, “I have been unable to induce to join.”
“Oh, he is one of our oldest members.”
“Ah,” said Psmith, tolerantly, “that accounts for it.”
“Please, sir—” said Spiller.
“One moment, Spiller. We shall have the first outing of the term on Saturday. We intend to inspect the Roman Camp at Embury Hill, two miles from the school.”
“We shall be there, sir.”
“Capital!”
“Please, sir—” said Spiller.
“One moment, Spiller,” said Psmith. “There is just one other matter, if you could spare the time, sir.”
“Certainly, Smith. What is that?”
“Would there be any objection to Jackson and myself taking Simpson’s old study?”
“By all means, Smith. A very good idea.”
“Yes, sir. It would give us a place where we could work quietly in the evenings.”
“Quite so. Quite so.”
“Thank you very much, sir. We will move our things in.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” said Mike.
“Please, sir,” shouted Spiller, “aren’t I to have it? I’m next on the list, sir. I come next after Simpson. Can’t I have it?”
“I’m afraid I have already promised it to Smith, Spiller. You should have spoken before.”
“But, sir–-“
Psmith eyed the speaker pityingly.
“This tendency to delay, Spiller,” he said, “is your besetting fault. Correct it, Edwin. Fight against it.”
He turned to Mr. Outwood.
“We should, of course, sir, always be glad to see Spiller in our study. He would always find a cheery welcome waiting there for him. There is no formality between ourselves and Spiller.”
“Quite so. An excellent arrangement, Smith. I like this spirit of comradeship in my house. Then you will be with us on Saturday?”
“On Saturday, sir.”
“All this sort of thing, Spiller,” said Psmith, as they closed the door, “is very, very trying for a man of culture. Look us up in our study one of these afternoons.”
CHAPTER XXXIV
GUERRILLA WARFARE
“There are few pleasures,” said Psmith, as he resumed his favourite position against the mantelpiece and surveyed the commandeered study with the pride of a householder, “keener to the reflective mind than sitting under one’s own roof-tree. This place would have been wasted on Spiller; he would not have appreciated it properly.”
Mike was finishing his tea. “You’re a jolly useful chap to have by you in a crisis, Smith,” he said with approval. “We ought to have known each other before.”
“The loss was mine,” said Psmith courteously. “We will now, with your permission, face the future for awhile. I suppose you realise that we are now to a certain extent up against it. Spiller’s hot Spanish blood is not going to sit tight and do nothing under a blow like this.”
“What can he do? Outwood’s given us the study.”
