e _Sportsman_ and _Field_, were strong this
year at batting. In the second place, the results of the last few
matches, and particularly the M.C.C. match, had given Burgess the
idea that Wrykyn was weak at bowling. It became necessary, therefore,
to drop a batsman out of the team in favour of a bowler. And either
Mike or Bob must be the man.

Burgess was as rigidly conscientious as the captain of a school eleven
should be. Bob was one of his best friends, and he would have given
much to be able to put him in the team; but he thought the thing over,
and put the temptation sturdily behind him. At batting there was not
much to choose between the two, but in fielding there was a great deal.
Mike was good. Bob was bad. So out Bob had gone, and Neville-Smith, a
fair fast bowler at all times and on his day dangerous, took his place.

These clashings of public duty with private inclination are the
drawbacks to the despotic position of captain of cricket at a public
school. It is awkward having to meet your best friend after you have
dropped him from the team, and it is difficult to talk to him as if
nothing had happened.

Burgess felt very self-conscious as he entered Bob's study, and was
rather glad that he had a topic of conversation ready to hand.

"Busy, Bob?" he asked.

"Hullo," said Bob, with a cheerfulness rather over-done in his anxiety
to show Burgess, the man, that he did not hold him responsible in
any way for the distressing acts of Burgess, the captain. "Take a
pew. Don't these studies get beastly hot this weather. There's some
ginger-beer in the cupboard. Have some?"

"No, thanks. I say, Bob, look here, I want to see you."

"Well, you can, can't you? This is me, sitting over here. The tall,
dark, handsome chap."

"It's awfully awkward, you know," continued Burgess gloomily; "that
ass of a young brother of yours--Sorry, but he _is_ an ass,
though he's your brother----"

"Thanks for the 'though,' Billy. You know how to put a thing nicely.
What's Mike been up to?"

"It's that old fool the Gazeka. He came to me frothing with rage, and
wanted me to call a prefects' meeting and touch young Mike up."

Bob displayed interest and excitement for the first time.

"Prefects' meeting! What the dickens is up? What's he been doing?
Smith must be drunk. What's all the row about?"

Burgess repeated the main facts of the case as he had them from
Firby-Smith.

"Personally, I sympathise with the kid," he added, "Stil