y.

"Very, from all accounts. They whacked the M.C.C. Jolly hot team of
M.C.C. too. Stronger than the one we drew with."

"Oh, well, you never know what's going to happen at cricket. I may
hold a catch for a change."

Burgess grunted.

Bob went on his way to the nets. Mike was just putting on his pads.

"I say, Mike," said Bob. "I wanted to see you. It's about Wyatt. I've
thought of something."

"What's that?"

"A way of getting him out of that bank. If it comes off, that's to
say."

"By Jove, he'd jump at anything. What's the idea?"

"Why shouldn't he get a job of sorts out in the Argentine? There ought
to be heaps of sound jobs going there for a chap like Wyatt. He's a
jolly good shot, to start with. I shouldn't wonder if it wasn't rather
a score to be able to shoot out there. And he can ride, I know."

"By Jove, I'll write to father to-night. He must be able to work it, I
should think. He never chucked the show altogether, did he?"

Mike, as most other boys of his age would have been, was profoundly
ignorant as to the details by which his father's money had been, or
was being, made. He only knew vaguely that the source of revenue had
something to do with the Argentine. His brother Joe had been born in
Buenos Ayres; and once, three years ago, his father had gone over
there for a visit, presumably on business. All these things seemed to
show that Mr. Jackson senior was a useful man to have about if you
wanted a job in that Eldorado, the Argentine Republic.

As a matter of fact, Mike's father owned vast tracts of land up
country, where countless sheep lived and had their being. He had long
retired from active superintendence of his estate. Like Mr. Spenlow,
he had a partner, a stout fellow with the work-taint highly developed,
who asked nothing better than to be left in charge. So Mr. Jackson had
returned to the home of his fathers, glad to be there again. But he
still had a decided voice in the ordering of affairs on the ranches,
and Mike was going to the fountain-head of things when he wrote to his
father that night, putting forward Wyatt's claims to attention and
ability to perform any sort of job with which he might be presented.

The reflection that he had done all that could be done tended to
console him for the non-appearance of Wyatt either that night or next
morning--a non-appearance which was due to the simple fact that he
passed that night in a bed in Mr. Wain's dressing-room, the door of
whi