'May I score?' he asked, and waited trembling with apprehension lest
the request be refused.

'All right,' said Venables, 'I don't see any reason why you shouldn't.
We have to catch the 8.14 at the station. Don't you go missing it or
anything.'

'Rather _not_,' said Pillingshot. 'Not much.'

* * * * *

On Saturday morning, at exactly 9.15, Mr Mellish distributed the Livy
papers. When he arrived at Pillingshot's seat and found it empty, an
expression passed over his face like unto that of the baffled villain
in transpontine melodrama.

'Where is Pillingshot?' he demanded tragically. 'Where is he?'

'He's gone with the team to Windybury, sir,' said Parker, struggling to
conceal a large size in grins. 'He's going to score.'

'No,' said Mr Mellish sadly to himself, 'he _has_ scored.'




[2]

THE ODD TRICK