violently resented by Spiller—"is a character one cannot help but respect. His nature expands before one like some beautiful flower."
Mr. Outwood received this eulogy with rather a startled expression, and gazed at the object of the tribute in a surprised way.
"Er—quite so, Smith, quite so," he said at last. "I like to see boys in my house friendly towards one another."
"There is no vice in Spiller," pursued Psmith earnestly. "His heart is the heart of a little child."
"Please, sir," burst out this paragon of all the virtues, "I"
"But it was not entirely with regard to Spiller that I wished to speak to you, sir, if you were not too busy."
"Not at all, Smith, not at all. Is there anything"
"Please, sir" began Spiller.
"I understand, sir," said Psmith, " that there is an Archæological Society in the school."
Mr. Outwood's eyes sparkled behind their pince-nez. It was a disappointment to him that so few boys seemed to wish to belong to his chosen band. Cricket and football, games that left him cold, appeared to be the main interest in their lives. It was but rarely that he could induce new boys to join. His colleague, Mr. Downing, who presided over the School Fire Brigade, never had any difficulty in finding support. Boys came readily at his call. Mr. Outwood pondered wistfully on this at times, not knowing that the Fire Brigade owed its support to the fact that it provided its light-hearted members with perfectly unparalleled opportunities for ragging, while his own band, though small, were in the main earnest.
"Yes, Smith," he said. "Yes. We have a small Archæological Society. I—er—in a measure look after it. Perhaps you would care to become a member?"
"Please, sir" said Spiller.
"One moment, Spiller. Do you want to join, Smith?"
