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.
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