He did not make friends very quickly or easily, though he had
always had scores of acquaintances--and with Wyatt and Psmith he had
found himself at home from the first moment he had met them.
He sat there, with a curious feeling of having swallowed a heavy weight,
hardly listening to what Mr. Downing was saying. Mr. Downing was talking
rapidly to the headmaster, who was nodding from time to time.
Mike took advantage of a pause to get up. "May I go, sir?" he said.
"Certainly, Jackson, certainly," said the Head. "Oh, and er--if you are
going back to your house, tell Smith that I should like to see him."
"Yes, sir."
He had reached the door, when again there was a knock.
"Come in," said the headmaster.
It was Adair.
"Yes, Adair?"
Adair was breathing rather heavily, as if he had been running.
"It was about Sammy--Sampson, sir," he said, looking at Mr. Downing.
"Ah, we know ... Well, Adair, what did you wish to say?"
"It wasn't Jackson who did it, sir."
"No, no, Adair. So Mr. Downing--"
"It was Dunster, sir."
Terrific sensation! The headmaster gave a sort of strangled yelp of
astonishment. Mr. Downing leaped in his chair. Mike's eyes opened to
their fullest extent.
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