“Am I not! Term and holidays. There’s no close season for me.”
“Oh, are you Wyatt, then?” asked Mike.
“Hullo, this is fame. How did you know my name, as the ass in the detective story always says to the detective, who’s seen it in the lining of his hat? Who’s been talking about me?”
“I heard my brother saying something about you in the train.”
“Who’s your brother?”
“Jackson. He’s in Donaldson’s.”
“I know. A stout fellow. So you’re the newest make of Jackson, latest model, with all the modern improvements? Are there any more of you?”
“Not brothers,” said Mike.
“Pity. You can’t quite raise a team, then? Are you a sort of young Tyldesley, too?”
“I played a bit at my last school. Only a private school, you know,” added Mike modestly.