e other chaps."
"They want us to speak to them?"
"They told me to come up and tell you to come down."
"Go and give Comrade Spiller our compliments and say that we can't come
down, but shall be delighted to see him up here. Things," he said, as
the messenger departed, "are beginning to move. Better leave the door
open, I think; it will save trouble. Ah, come in, Comrade Spiller, what
can we do for you?"
Spiller advanced into the study; the others waited outside, crowding in
the doorway.
"Look here," said Spiller, "are you going to clear out of here or not?"
"After Mr. Outwood's kindly thought in giving us the room? You suggest a
black and ungrateful action, Comrade Spiller."
"You'll get it hot, if you don't."
"We'll risk it," said Mike.
Jellicoe giggled in the background; the drama in the atmosphere appealed
to him. His was a simple and appreciative mind.
"Come on, you chaps," cried Spiller suddenly.
There was an inward rush on the enemy's part, but Mike had been
watching. He grabbed Spiller by the shoulders and ran him back against
the advancing crowd. For a moment the doorway was blocked, then the
weight and impetus of Mike and Spiller prevailed, the enemy gave back,
and Mike, stepping into the room again, slammed the door and locked it.
"A neat piece of work," said Psmith approvingly, adjusting his tie at
the looking glass. "The preliminaries may now be considered over, the
first shot has been fired. The dogs of war are now loose."
A heavy body crashed against the door.
"They'll have it down," said Jellicoe.
"We must act, Comrade Jackson! Might I trouble you just to turn that key
quietly, and the handle, and then to stand by for the next attack."
There was a scrambling of feet in the passage outside, and then a
repetition of the onslaught on the door. This time, however, the door,
instead of resisting, swung open, and the human battering ram staggered
through into the study. Mike, turning after relocking the door, was just
in time to see Psmith, with a display of energy of which one would not
have believed him capable, grip the invader scientifically by an arm
and a leg.
Mike jumped to help, but it was needless; the captive was already on the
windowsill. As Mike arrived, Psmith dropped him onto the
flowerbed below.
Psmith closed the window gently and turned to Jellicoe. "Who was our
guest?" he asked, dusting the knees of his trousers where they had
pressed against the wall.
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