on felt revengeful.
"I say," said Burton, "I'm jolly glad you're playing for the first
against Geddington."
"Thanks," said Mike.
"I'm specially glad for one reason."
"What's that?" inquired Mike, without interest.
"Because your beast of a brother has been chucked out. He'd have been
playing but for you."
At any other time Mike would have heard Bob called a beast without
active protest. He would have felt that it was no business of his to
fight his brother's battles for him. But on this occasion he deviated
from his rule.
He kicked Burton. Not once or twice, but several times, so that
Burton, retiring hurriedly, came to the conclusion that it must be
something in the Jackson blood, some taint, as it were. They were
_all_ beasts.
* * * * *
Mike walked on, weighing this remark, and gradually made up his mind.
It must be remembered that he was in a confused mental condition, and
that the only thing he realised clearly was that Bob had pulled him
out of an uncommonly nasty hole. It seemed to him that it was
necessary to repay Bob. He thought the thing over more fully during
school, and his decision remained unaltered.
On the evening before the Geddington match, just before lock-up, Mike
tapped at Burgess's study door. He tapped with his right hand, for his
left was in a sling.
"Come in!" yelled the captain. "Hullo!"
"I'm awfully sorry, Burgess," said Mike. "I've crocked my wrist a
bit."
"How did you do that? You were all right at the nets?"
"Slipped as I was changing," said Mike stolidly.
"Is it bad?"
"Nothing much. I'm afraid I shan't be able to play to-morrow."
"I say, that's bad luck. Beastly bad luck. We wanted your batting,
too. Be all right, though, in a day or two, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes, rather."
"Hope so, anyway."
"Thanks. Good-night."
"Good-night."
And Burgess, with the comfortable feeling that he had managed to
combine duty and pleasure after all, wrote a note to Bob at
Donaldson's, telling him to be ready to start with the team for
Geddington by the 8.54 next morning.
CHAPTER XVI
AN EXPERT EXAMINATION
Mike's Uncle John was a wanderer on the face of the earth. He had been
an army surgeon in the days of his youth, and, after an adventurous
career, mainly in Afghanistan, had inherited enough money to keep him
in comfort for the rest of his life. He had thereupon left the
service, and now spent most of his time flitting
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