His eye fell on a tray bearing a decanter and a syphon. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Can’t I mix you a whisky and soda, father, before I go off to bed?” * * * * * “Well?” said Mike. Wyatt kicked off his slippers, and began to undress. “What happened?” “We chatted.” “Has he let you off?” “Like a gun. I shoot off almost immediately. To-morrow I take a well-earned rest away from school, and the day after I become the gay young bank-clerk, all amongst the ink and ledgers.” Mike was miserably silent. “Buck up,” said Wyatt cheerfully. “It would have happened anyhow in another fortnight. So why worry?” Mike was still silent. The reflection was doubtless philosophic, but it failed to comfort him. CHAPTER XXVI THE AFTERMATH Bad news spreads quickly. By the quarter to eleven interval next day the facts concerning Wyatt and Mr. Wain were public property. Mike, as an actual spectator of the drama, was in great request as an informant. As he told the story to a group of sympathisers outside the school shop, Burgess came up, his eyes rolling in a fine frenzy. “Anybody seen young--oh, here you are. What’s all this about Jimmy Wyatt? They’re saying he’s been sacked, or some rot.” [Illustration: “WHAT’S ALL THIS ABOUT JIMMY WYATT?”] “So he has--at least, he’s got to leave.” “What? When?” “He’s left already. He isn’t coming to school again.” Burgess’s first thought, as befitted a good cricket captain, was for his team. “And the Ripton match on Saturday!” Nobody seemed to have anything except silent sympathy at his command. “Dash the man! Silly ass! What did he want to do it for! Poor old Jimmy, though!” he added after a pause. “What rot for him!” “Beastly,” agreed Mike. “All the same,” continued Burgess, with a return to the austere manner of the captain of cricket, “he might have chucked playing the goat till after the Ripton match. Look here, young Jackson, you’ll turn out for fielding with the first this afternoon. You’ll play on Saturday.” “All right,” said Mike, without enthusiasm. The Wyatt disaster was too recent for him to feel much pleasure at playing against Ripton _vice_ his friend, withdrawn. Bob was the next to interview him. They met in the cloisters. “Hullo, Mike!” said Bob. “I say, what’s all this about Wyatt?” “Wain caught him getting back into the dorm. last night after Neville-Smith’s, and he’s taken him away from the school.” “What’s he going to do? Going into that bank straight away?” “Yes. You know, that’s the part he bars most. He’d have been leaving anyhow in a fortnight, you see; only it’s awful rot for a chap like Wyatt to have to go and froust in a bank for the rest of his life.” “He’ll find it rather a change, I expect. I suppose you won’t be seeing him before he goes?”