“You needn’t be a funny ass, man,” said Dunster, pained; “heaps of people tell me I ought to have it waxed.” “What it really wants is top-dressing with guano. Hullo! another man out. Adair’s bowling better to-day than he did yesterday.” “I heard about yesterday,” said Dunster. “It must have been a rag! Couldn’t we work off some other rag on somebody before I go? I shall be stopping here till Monday in the village. Well hit, sir--Adair’s bowling is perfectly simple if you go out to it.” “Comrade Dunster went out to it first ball,” said Psmith to Mike. “Oh! chuck it, man; the sun was in my eyes. I hear Adair’s got a match on with the M.C.C. at last.” “Has he?” said Psmith; “I hadn’t heard. Archaeology claims so much of my time that I have little leisure for listening to cricket chit-chat.” “What was it Jellicoe wanted?” asked Mike; “was it anything important?” “He seemed to think so--he kept telling me to tell you to go and see him.” “I fear Comrade Jellicoe is a bit of a weak-minded blitherer----” “Did you ever hear of a rag we worked off on Jellicoe once?” asked Dunster. “The man has absolutely no sense of humour--can’t see when he’s being rotted. Well it was like this--Hullo! We’re all out--I shall have to be going out to field again, I suppose, dash it! I’ll tell you when I see you again.” “I shall count the minutes,” said Psmith. Mike stretched himself; the sun was very soothing after his two hours in the detention-room; he felt disinclined for exertion. “I don’t suppose it’s anything special about Jellicoe, do you?” he said. “I mean, it’ll keep till tea-time; it’s no catch having to sweat across to the house now.” “Don’t dream of moving,” said Psmith. “I have several rather profound observations on life to make and I can’t make them without an audience. Soliloquy is a knack. Hamlet had got it, but probably only after years of patient practice. Personally, I need some one to listen when I talk. I like to feel that I am doing good. You stay where you are--don’t interrupt too much.” Mike tilted his hat over his eyes and abandoned Jellicoe. It was not until the lock-up bell rang that he remembered him. He went over to the house and made his way to the dormitory, where he found the injured one in a parlous state, not so much physical as mental. The doctor had seen his ankle and reported that it would be on the active list in a couple of days. It was Jellicoe’s mind that needed attention now. Mike found him in a condition bordering on collapse. “I say, you might have come before!” said Jellicoe. “What’s up? I didn’t know there was such a hurry about it--what did you want?” “It’s no good now,” said Jellicoe gloomily; “it’s too late, I shall get sacked.” “What on earth are you talking about? What’s the row?” “It’s about that money.” “What about it?”