there was not much to choose between the two, but In fielding there was a great deal. Mike was good. Bob was bad. So out Bob had gone, and Neville-Smith, a fair fast bowler at all times and on his day dangerous, took his place.
These clashings of public duty with private inclination are the drawbacks to the despotic position of captain of cricket at a public school. It is awkward having to meet your best friend after you have dropped him from the team, and it is difficult to talk to him as if nothing had happened.
Burgess felt very self-conscious as he entered Bob's study, and was rather glad that he had a topic of conversation ready to hand.
"Busy, Bob?" he asked.
"Hullo," said Bob, with a cheerfulness rather overdone in his anxiety to show Burgess, the man, that he did not hold him responsible in any way for the distressing acts of Burgess, the captain. "Take a pew. Don't these studies get beastly hot this weather. There's some ginger-beer in the cupboard. Have some?"
"No, thanks. I say, Bob, look here, I want to see you."
"Well, you can, can't you? This is me, sitting over here. The tall, dark, handsome chap."
"It's awfully awkward, you know," continued Burgess gloomily; "that ass of a young brother of yours— Sorry, but he is an ass, though he's your brother"
"Thanks for the 'though,' Billy. You know how to put a thing nicely. What's Mike been up to?"
"It's that old fool the Gazeka. He came to me frothing with rage, and wanted me to call a prefects' meeting and touch young Mike up."
Bob displayed interest and excitement for the first time.
"Prefects' meeting! What the dickens is up? What's he been doing? Smith must be drunk. What's all the row about?"
