and in a year or two, of course,
there'll be no comparison.'"

"Oh, rot," muttered Mike, wiping the sweat off his forehead. This was
one of the most harrowing interviews he had ever been through.

"Not at all. Billy agreed with him. 'That's just what I think, sir,'
he said. 'It's rough on Bob, but still----' And then they walked down
the steps. I waited a bit to give them a good start, and then sheered
off myself. And so home."

Mike looked at the floor, and said nothing.

There was nothing much to _be_ said.

"Well, what I wanted to see you about was this," resumed Bob. "I don't
propose to kiss you or anything; but, on the other hand, don't let's
go to the other extreme. I'm not saying that it isn't a bit of a brick
just missing my cap like this, but it would have been just as bad for
you if you'd been the one dropped. It's the fortune of war. I don't
want you to go about feeling that you've blighted my life, and so on,
and dashing up side-streets to avoid me because you think the sight of
you will be painful. As it isn't me, I'm jolly glad it's you; and I
shall cadge a seat in the pavilion from you when you're playing for
England at the Oval. Congratulate you."

It was the custom at Wrykyn, when you congratulated a man on getting
colours, to shake his hand. They shook hands.

"Thanks, awfully, Bob," said Mike. And after that there seemed to be
nothing much to talk about. So Mike edged out of the room, and tore
across to Wain's.

He was sorry for Bob, but he would not have been human (which he
certainly was) if the triumph of having won through at last into the
first eleven had not dwarfed commiseration. It had been his one
ambition, and now he had achieved it.

The annoying part of the thing was that he had nobody to talk to about
it. Until the news was official he could not mention it to the common
herd. It wouldn't do. The only possible confidant was Wyatt. And Wyatt
was at Bisley, shooting with the School Eight for the Ashburton. For
bull's-eyes as well as cats came within Wyatt's range as a marksman.
Cricket took up too much of his time for him to be captain of the
Eight and the man chosen to shoot for the Spencer, as he would
otherwise almost certainly have been; but even though short of
practice he was well up in the team.

Until he returned, Mike could tell nobody. And by the time he returned
the notice would probably be up in the Senior Block with the other
cricket notices.

In this fermenting