Sam sat down.
“I’m sorry about all that, uncle.”
“All what?”
“All that business that was going on when you came in.”
“Ah, yes. What was it, by the way?”
“Spike Murphy was seeing if he could kick higher than a kid from a firm downstairs.”
“And did he?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy,” said Mr. Pynsent approvingly. “You arranged the competition, no doubt?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”