Mike started on his ride to Lower Borlock with mixed feelings. It ispleasant to be out on a fine night in summer, but the pleasure is to acertain extent modified when one feels that to be detected will meanexpulsion.

　　Mike did not want to be expelled, for many reasons. Now that he hadgrown used to the place he was enjoying himself at Sedleigh to acertain extent. He still harboured a feeling of resentment against theschool in general and Adair in particular, but it was pleasant inOutwood's now that he had got to know some of the members of thehouse, and he liked playing cricket for Lower Borlock; also, he wasfairly certain that his father would not let him go to Cambridge if hewere expelled from Sedleigh. Mr. Jackson was easy-going with hisfamily, but occasionally his foot came down like a steam-hammer, aswitness the Wrykyn school report affair.

　　So Mike pedalled along rapidly, being wishful to get the job donewithout delay.

　　Psmith had yielded up the key, but his inquiries as to why it wasneeded had been embarrassing. Mike's statement that he wanted to getup early and have a ride had been received by Psmith, with whom earlyrising was not a hobby, with honest amazement and a flood of adviceand warning on the subject.

　　"One of the Georges," said Psmith, "I forget which, once said that acertain number of hours' sleep a day--I cannot recall for the momenthow many--made a man something, which for the time being has slippedmy memory. However, there you are. I've given you the main idea of thething; and a German doctor says that early rising causes insanity.

　　Still, if you're bent on it----" After which he had handed over thekey.

　　Mike wished he could have taken Psmith into his confidence. Probablyhe would have volunteered to come, too; Mike would have been glad of acompanion.

　　It did not take him long to reach Lower Borlock. The "White Boar"stood at the far end of the village, by the cricket field. He rodepast the church--standing out black and mysterious against the lightsky--and the rows of silent cottages, until he came to the inn.

　　The place was shut, of course, and all the lights were out--it wassome time past eleven.

　　The advantage an inn has over a private house, from the point of viewof the person who wants to get into it when it has been locked up, isthat a nocturnal visit is not so unexpected in the case of the former.

　　Preparations have been made to meet such an emergency. Where with aprivate house you would probably have to wander round heaving rocksand end by climbing up a water-spout, when you want to get into an innyou simply ring the night-bell, which, communicating with the boots'

　　room, has that hard-worked menial up and doing in no time.

　　After Mike had waited for a few minutes there was a rattling of chainsand a shooting of bolts and the door opened.

　　"Yes, sir?" said the boots, appearing in his shirt-sleeves. "Why,'ullo! Mr. Jackson, sir!"Mike was well known to all dwellers in Lower Borlock, his scores beingthe chief topic of conversation when the day's labours were over.

　　"I want to see Mr. Barley, Jack.""He's bin in bed this half-hour back, Mr. Jackson.""I must see him. Can you get him down?"The boots looked doubtful. "Roust the guv'nor outer bed?" he said.

　　Mike quite admitted the gravity of the task. The landlord of the"White Boar" was one of those men who need a beauty sleep.

　　"I wish you would--it's a thing that can't wait. I've got some moneyto give to him.""Oh, if it's _that_--" said the boots.

　　Five minutes later mine host appeared in person, looking more thanusually portly in a check dressing-gown and red bedroom slippers ofthe _Dreadnought_ type.

　　"You can pop off, Jack."Exit boots to his slumbers once more.

　　"Well, Mr. Jackson, what's it all about?""Jellicoe asked me to come and bring you the money.""The money? What money?""What he owes you; the five pounds, of course.""The five--" Mr. Barley stared open-mouthed at Mike for a moment;then he broke into a roar of laughter which shook the sporting printson the wall and drew barks from dogs in some distant part of thehouse. He staggered about laughing and coughing till Mike began toexpect a fit of some kind. Then he collapsed into a chair, whichcreaked under him, and wiped his eyes.

　　"Oh dear!" he said, "oh dear! the five pounds!"Mike was not always abreast of the rustic idea of humour, andnow he felt particularly fogged. For the life of him............