fic.

Mike's pace had become slower, as was only natural, but his score, too,
was mounting steadily.

"This is foolery," snapped Mr. Downing, as the three hundred and fifty
went up on the board. "Barnes!" he called.

There was no reply. A committee of three was at that moment engaged in
sitting on Barnes's head in the first eleven changing room, in order to
correct a more than usually feverish attack of conscience.

"Barnes!"

"Please, sir," said Stone, some species of telepathy telling him what
was detaining his captain. "I think Barnes must have left the field. He
has probably gone over to the house to fetch something."

"This is absurd. You must declare your innings closed. The game has
become a farce."

"Declare! Sir, we can't unless Barnes does. He might be awfully annoyed
if we did anything like that without consulting him."

"Absurd."

"He's very touchy, sir."

"It is perfect foolery."

"I think Jenkins is just going to bowl, sir."

Mr. Downing walked moodily to his place.

In a neat wooden frame in the senior day room at Outwood's, just above
the mantlepiece, there was on view, a week later, a slip of paper.

The writing on it was as follows:

OUTWOOD'S _v_. DOWNING'S

_Outwood's. First innings_.

J.P. Barnes, _c_. Hammond, _b_. Hassall 33
M. Jackson, not out 277
W.J. Stone, not out 124
Extras 37
Total (for one wicket) 471

Downing's did not bat.

12

THE SINGULAR BEHAVIOR OF JELLICOE

Outwood's rollicked considerably that night. Mike, if he had cared to
take the part, could have been the Petted Hero. But a cordial invitation
from the senior day room to be the guest of the evening at about the
biggest rag of the century had been refused on the plea of fatigue. One
does not make two hundred and seventy-seven runs on a hot day without
feeling the effects, even if one has scored mainly by the medium of
boundaries; and Mike, as he lay back in Psmith's deck chair, felt that
all he wanted was to go to bed and stay there for a week. His hands and
arms burned as if they were red-hot, and his eyes were so tired that he
could not keep them open.

Psmith, leaning against the mantlepiece, discoursed in a desultory way
on the day's happenings--the score off Mr. Downing, the undeniable
annoyance of that battered bowler, and the probability of his venting
his anno