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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"Mike"

"
"Ah!"
"Bare-'eaded, sir," added the sergeant, rubbing the point in.
"It was undoubtedly the same boy, undoubtedly! I wish you could have
caught a glimpse of his face, sergeant."
"So do I, sir."
"You would not be able to recognise him again if you saw him, you
think?"
"Oo-oo-oo! Wouldn't go so far as to say that, sir, 'cos yer see, I'm
feeflee good at spottin', but it was a dark night."
Mr. Downing rose to go.
"Well," he said, "the search is now considerably narrowed down,
considerably! It is certain that the boy was one of the boys in Mr.
Outwood's house."
"Young monkeys!" interjected the sergeant helpfully.
"Good-afternoon, sergeant."
"Good-afternoon to you, sir."
"Pray do not move, sergeant."
The sergeant had not shown the slightest inclination of doing anything
of the kind.
"I will find my way out. Very hot to-day, is it not?"
"Feeflee warm, sir; weather's goin' to break--workin' up for thunder."
"I hope not. The school plays the M.C.C. on Wednesday, and it would be
a pity if rain were to spoil our first fixture with them. Good
afternoon."
And Mr. Downing went out into the baking sunlight, while Sergeant
Collard, having requested Mrs. Collard to take the children out for a
walk at once, and furthermore to give young Ernie a clip side of the
'ead, if he persisted in making so much noise, put a handkerchief over
his face, rested his feet on the table, and slept the sleep of the
just.


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