The only two members of the house not out in the grounds when hearrived were Mike and Psmith. They were standing1 on the gravel2 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 spool3 from the ground.
"There's a kid in France," said Mike disparagingly4, as the bobbinrolled off the string for the fourth time, "who can do it threethousand seven hundred and something times."Psmith smoothed a crease5 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 ass6 ever to try it. Thephilosophical mind needs complete repose7 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 sneak8 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 courteously9, 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 gracefully10, 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 abruptly11 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, crimson12 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 asperity13, "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 frenzy14 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 proficiency15 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 Sergeant16 Collard had seenclimbing the pipe must have been making for this study.
He spun17 round and met Psmith's blandly18 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.
"No, sir.""He is the only other occupant of the room?""Yes, sir.""Nobody else comes into it?""If they do, they go out extremely quickly, sir.""Ah! Thank you, Smith.""Not at all, sir."Mr. Downing pondered. Jackson! The boy bore him a grudge19. The boy wasprecisely the sort of boy to revenge himself by painting the dogSammy. And, gadzooks! The boy whom he had pursued last night had beenjust about Jackson's size and build!
Mr. Downing was as firmly convinced at that moment that Mike's hadbeen the hand to wield20 the paint-brush as he had ever been of anythingin his life.
"Smith!" he said excitedly.
"On the spot, sir," said Psmith affably.
"Where are Jackson's boots?"There are moments when the giddy excitement of being right on thetrail causes the amateur (or Watsonian) detective to be incautious.
Such a moment came to Mr. Downing then. If he had been wise, he wouldhave achieved his object, the getting a glimpse of Mike's boots, by adevious and snaky route. As it was, he rushed straight on.
"His boots, sir? He has them on. I noticed them as he went out justnow.""Where is the pair he wore yesterday?""Where are the boots of yester-year?" murmured Psmith to himself. "Ishould say at a venture, sir, that they would be in the basketdownstairs. Edmund, our genial21 knife-and-boot boy, collects them, Ibelieve, at early dawn.""Would they have been cleaned yet?""If I know Edmund, sir--no.""Smith," said Mr. Downing, trembling with excitement, "go and bringthat basket to me here."Psmith's brain was working rapidly as he went downstairs. What exactlywas at the back of the sleuth's mind, prompting these manoeuvres, hedid not know. But that there was something, and that that somethingwas directed in a hostile manner against Mike, probably in connectionwith last night's wild happenings, he was certain. Psmith had noticed,on leaving his bed at the sound of the alarm bell, that he andJellicoe were alone in the room. That might mean that Mike had goneout through the door when the bell sounded, or it might mean that hehad been out all the time. It began to look as if the latter solutionwere the correct one.
* * * * *He staggered back with the basket, painfully conscious the while thatit was creasing22 his waistcoat, and dumped is down on the study floor.
Mr. Downing stooped eagerly over it. Psmith leaned against the wall,and straightened out the damaged garment.
"We have here, sir," he said, "a fair selection of our variousbootings."Mr. Downing looked up.
"You dropped none of the boots on your way up, Smith?""Not one, sir. It was a fine performance."Mr. Downing uttered a grunt23 of satisfaction, and bent24 once more to histask. Boots flew about the room. Mr. Downing knelt on the floor besidethe basket, and dug like a terrier at a rat-hole.
At last he made a dive, and, with an exclamation25 of triumph, rose tohis feet. In his hand he held a boot.
"Put those back again, Smith," he said.
The ex-Etonian, wearing an expression such as a martyr26 might have wornon being told off for the stake, began to pick up the scatteredfootgear, whistling softly the tune27 of "I do all the dirty work," ashe did so.
"That's the lot, sir," he said, rising.
"Ah. Now come across with me to the headmaster's house. Leave thebasket here. You can carry it back when you return.""Shall I put back that boot, sir?""Certainly not. I shall take this with me, of course.""Shall I carry it, sir?"Mr. Downing reflected.
"Yes, Smith," he said. "I think it would be best."It occurred to him that the spectacle of a housemaster wanderingabroad on the public highway, carrying a dirty boot, might be a trifleundignified. You never knew whom you might meet on Sunday afternoon.
Psmith took the boot, and doing so, understood what before had puzzledhim.
Across the toe of the boot was a broad splash of red paint.
He knew nothing, of course, of the upset tin in the bicycle shed;but when a housemaster's dog has been painted red in the night, andwhen, on the following day, the housemaster goes about in search of apaint-splashed boot, one puts two and two together. Psmith looked atthe name inside the boot. It was "Brown, boot-maker, Bridgnorth."Bridgnorth was only a few miles from his own home and Mike's.
Undoubtedly it was Mike's boot.
"Can you tell me whose boot that is?" asked Mr. Downing.
Psmith looked at it again.
"No, sir. I can't say the little chap's familiar to me.""Come with me, then."Mr. Downing left the room. After a moment Psmith followed him.
The headmaster was in his garden. Thither28 Mr. Downing made his way,the boot-bearing Psmith in close attendance.
The Head listened to the amateur detective's statement with interest.
"Indeed?" he said, when Mr. Downing had finished.
"Indeed? Dear me! It certainly seems--It is a curiously29 well-connectedthread of evidence. You are certain that there was red paint on thisboot you discovered in Mr. Outwood's house?""I have it with me. I brought it on purpose to show to you. Smith!""Sir?""You have the boot?""Ah," said the headmaster, putting on a pair of pince-nez, "now let melook at--This, you say, is the--? Just so. Just so. Just.... But, er,Mr. Downing, it may be that I have not examined this boot withsufficient care, but--Can _you_ point out to me exactly wherethis paint is that you speak of?"Mr. Downing stood staring at the boot with a wild, fixed30 stare. Of anysuspicion of paint, red or otherwise, it was absolutely and entirelyinnocent.
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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spool
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| n.（缠录音带等的）卷盘（轴）；v.把…绕在卷轴上 | |
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disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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proficiency
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| n.精通，熟练，精练 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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creasing
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的现在分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 挑檐 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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