"Robinson. I say, you _are_ a chap!"

"Robinson, was it? Well, we are always glad to see Comrade Robinson,
always. I wonder if anybody else is thinking of calling?"

Apparently frontal attack had been abandoned. Whisperings could be heard
in the corridor.

Somebody hammered on the door.

"Yes?" called Psmith patiently.

"You'd better come out, you know; you'll only get it hotter if you
don't."

"Leave us, Spiller; we would be alone."

A bell rang in the distance.

"Tea," said Jellicoe; "we shall have to go now."

"They won't do anything till after tea, I shouldn't think," said Mike.
"There's no harm in going out."

The passage was empty when they opened the door; the call to food was
evidently a thing not to be treated lightly by the enemy.

In the dining room the beleaguered garrison were the object of general
attention. Everybody turned to look at them as they came in. It was
plain that the study episode had been a topic of conversation. Spiller's
face was crimson, and Robinson's coat sleeve still bore traces of
garden mold.

Mike felt rather conscious of the eyes, but Psmith was in his element.
His demeanor throughout the meal was that of some whimsical monarch
condescending for a freak to revel with his humble subjects.

Toward the end of the meal Psmith scribbled a note and passed it to
Mike. It read: "Directly this is over, nip upstairs as quickly as
you can."

Mike followed the advice; they were first out of the room. When they had
been in the study a few moments, Jellicoe knocked at the door. "Lucky
you two cut away so quick," he said. "They were going to try and get you
into the senior day room and scrag you there."

"This," said Psmith, leaning against the mantelpiece, "is exciting, but
it can't go on. We have got for our sins to be in this place for a whole
term, and if we are going to do the Hunted Fawn business all the time,
life in the true sense of the word will become an impossibility. My
nerves are so delicately attuned that the strain would simply reduce
them to hash. We are not prepared to carry on a long campaign--the thing
must be settled at once."

"Shall we go down to the senior day room, and have it out?" said Mike.

"No, we will play the fixture on our own ground. I think we may take it
as tolerably certain that Comrade Spiller and his hired ruffians will
try to corner us in the dormitory tonight. Well, of course, we could
fake up some sort of barricade for the door, but th