'Yes, what about him?' said Mike. 'You'll have a pretty tough job
turning him into a friendly native, I should think. How do you mean to
start?'

Psmith regarded him with a benevolent eye.

'There is but one way,' he said. 'Do you remember the case of Comrade
Outwood, at Sedleigh? How did we corral him, and become to him
practically as long-lost sons?'

'We got round him by joining the Archaeological Society.'

'Precisely,' said Psmith. 'Every man has his hobby. The thing is to
find it out. In the case of comrade Rossiter, I should say that it
would be either postage stamps, dried seaweed, or Hall Caine. I shall
endeavour to find out today. A few casual questions, and the thing is
done. Shall we be putting in an appearance at the busy hive now? If we
are to continue in the running for the bonus stakes, it would be well
to start soon.'

Mike's first duty at the bank that morning was to check the stamps and
petty cash. While he was engaged on this task, he heard Psmith
conversing affably with Mr Rossiter.

'Good morning,' said Psmith.

'Morning,' replied his chief, doing sleight-of-hand tricks with a
bundle of letters which lay on his desk. 'Get on with your work,
Psmith. We have a lot before us.'