ing at him through my eyeglass. Comrade Jackson, I fear
me we have fallen among bad men. I suspect that we are going to be much
persecuted by scoundrels."

"Both you chaps play cricket, I suppose?"

They turned. It was Adair. Seeing him face to face, Mike was aware of a
pair of very bright blue eyes and a square jaw. In any other place and
mood he would have liked Adair at sight. His prejudice, however, against
all things Sedleighan was too much for him. "I don't," he said shortly.

"Haven't you _ever_ played?"

"My little sister and I sometimes play with a soft ball at home."

Adair looked sharply at him. A temper was evidently one of his numerous
qualities.

"Oh," he said. "Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind turning out this
afternoon and seeing what you can do with a hard ball--if you can manage
without your little sister."

"I should think the form at this place would be about on a level with
hers. But I don't happen to be playing cricket, as I think I told you."

Adair's jaw grew squarer than ever. Mike was wearing a gloomy scowl.

Psmith joined suavely in the dialogue.

"My dear old comrades," he said, "Don't let us brawl over this matter.
This is a time for the honeyed word, the kindly eye, and the pleasant
smile. Let me explain to Comrade Adair. Speaking for Comrade Jackson and
myself, we should both be delighted to join in the mimic warfare of our
National Game, as you suggest, only the fact is, we happen to be the
Young Archaeologists. We gave in our names last night. When you are
being carried back to the pavilion after your century against
Loamshire--do you play Loamshire?--we shall be grubbing in the hard
ground for ruined abbeys. The old choice between Pleasure and Duty,
Comrade Adair. A Boy's Crossroads."

"Then you won't play?"

"No," said Mike.

"Archaeology," said Psmith, with a deprecatory wave of the hand, "will
brook no divided allegiance from her devotees."

Adair turned, and walked on.

Scarcely had he gone, when another voice hailed them with precisely the
same question.

"Both you fellows are going to play cricket, eh?"

It was a master. A short, wiry little man with a sharp nose and a
general resemblance, both in manner and appearance, to an excitable
bullfinch.

"I saw Adair speaking to you. I suppose you will both play. I like every
new boy to begin at once. The more new blood we have, the better. We
want keenness here. We are, above all, a keen school. I want every boy
t