The only two members of the house not out in the grounds when hearrived were Mike and Psmith. They were standing on the gravel drivein front of the boys' entrance. Mike had a deck-chair in one hand anda book in the other. Psmith--for even the greatest minds willsometimes unbend--was playing diabolo. That is to say, he was tryingwithout success to raise the spool from the ground.

　　"There's a kid in France," said Mike disparagingly, as the bobbinrolled off the string for the fourth time, "who can do it threethousand seven hundred and something times."Psmith smoothed a crease out of his waistcoat and tried again. He hadjust succeeded in getting the thing to spin when Mr. Downing arrived.

　　The sound of his footsteps disturbed Psmith and brought the effort tonothing.

　　"Enough of this spoolery," said he, flinging the sticks through theopen window of the senior day-room. "I was an ass ever to try it. Thephilosophical mind needs complete repose in its hours of leisure.

　　Hullo!"He stared after the sleuth-hound, who had just entered the house.

　　"What the dickens," said Mike, "does he mean by barging in as if he'dbought the place?""Comrade Downing looks pleased with himself. What brings him round inthis direction, I wonder! Still, no matter. The few articles which hemay sneak from our study are of inconsiderable value. He is welcome tothem. Do you feel inclined to wait awhile till I have fetched a chairand book?""I'll be going on. I shall be under the trees at the far end of theground.""'Tis well. I will be with you in about two ticks."Mike walked on towards the field, and Psmith, strolling upstairs tofetch his novel, found Mr. Downing standing in the passage with theair of one who has lost his bearings.

　　"A warm afternoon, sir," murmured Psmith courteously, as he passed.

　　"Er--Smith!""Sir?""I--er--wish to go round the dormitories."It was Psmith's guiding rule in life never to be surprised atanything, so he merely inclined his head gracefully, and said nothing.

　　"I should be glad if you would fetch the keys and show me where therooms are.""With acute pleasure, sir," said Psmith. "Or shall I fetch Mr.

　　Outwood, sir?""Do as I tell you, Smith," snapped Mr. Downing.

　　Psmith said no more, but went down to the matron's room. The matronbeing out, he abstracted the bunch of keys from her table and rejoinedthe master.

　　"Shall I lead the way, sir?" he asked.

　　Mr. Downing nodded.

　　"Here, sir," said Psmith, opening a door, "we have Barnes' dormitory.

　　An airy room, constructed on the soundest hygienic principles. Eachboy, I understand, has quite a considerable number of cubic feet ofair all to himself. It is Mr. Outwood's boast that no boy has everasked for a cubic foot of air in vain. He argues justly----"He broke off abruptly and began to watch the other's manoeuvres insilence. Mr. Downing was peering rapidly beneath each bed in turn.

　　"Are you looking for Barnes, sir?" inquired Psmith politely. "I thinkhe's out in the field."Mr. Downing rose, having examined the last bed, crimson in the facewith the exercise.

　　"Show me the next dormitory, Smith," he said, panting slightly.

　　"This," said Psmith, opening the next door and sinking his voice to anawed whisper, "is where _I_ sleep!"Mr. Downing glanced swiftly beneath the three beds. "Excuse me, sir,"said Psmith, "but are we chasing anything?""Be good enough, Smith," said Mr. Downing with asperity, "to keep yourremarks to yourself.""I was only wondering, sir. Shall I show you the next in order?""Certainly."They moved on up the passage.

　　Drawing blank at the last dormitory, Mr. Downing paused, baffled.

　　Psmith waited patiently by. An idea struck the master.

　　"The studies, Smith," he cried.

　　"Aha!" said Psmith. "I beg your pardon, sir. The observation escapedme unawares. The frenzy of the chase is beginning to enter into myblood. Here we have----"Mr. Downing stopped short.

　　"Is this impertinence studied, Smith?""Ferguson's study, sir? No, sir. That's further down the passage. Thisis Barnes'."Mr. Downing looked at him closely. Psmith's face was wooden in itsgravity. The master snorted suspiciously, then moved on.

　　"Whose is this?" he asked, rapping a door.

　　"This, sir, is mine and Jackson's.""What! Have you a study? You are low down in the school for it.""I think, sir, that Mr. Outwood gave it us rather as a testimonial toour general worth than to our proficiency in school-work."Mr. Downing raked the room with a keen eye. The absence of bars fromthe window attracted his attention.

　　"Have you no bars to your windows here, such as there are in myhouse?""There appears to be no bar, sir," said Psmith, putting up hiseyeglass.

　　Mr Downing was leaning out of the window.

　　"A lovely view, is it not, sir?" said Psmith. "The trees, the field,the distant hills----"Mr. Downing suddenly started. His eye had been caught by the water-pipeat the side of the window. The boy whom Sergeant Collard had seenclimbing the pipe must have been making for this study.

　　He spun round and met Psmith's blandly inquiring gaze. He looked atPsmith carefully for a moment. No. The boy he had chased last nighthad not been Psmith. That exquisite's figure and general appearancewere unmistakable, even in the dusk.

　　"Whom did you say you shared this study with, Smith?""Jackson, sir. The cricketer.""Never mind about his cricket, Smith," said Mr. Downing withirritation.

　............