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diff --git a/old/7jeev10.zip b/old/7jeev10.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ee81002..0000000 --- a/old/7jeev10.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/7jeev10.zip~ b/old/7jeev10.zip~ Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ee81002..0000000 --- a/old/7jeev10.zip~ +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/8164-8.txt b/old/8164-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0a7de27..0000000 --- a/old/8164-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7297 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: My Man Jeeves - -Author: P. G. Wodehouse - -Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] -Release Date: May, 2005 -[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] -Last updated: August 30, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team - - - - - - - - - - -MY MAN JEEVES - - - - -BY P. G. WODEHOUSE - -1919 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - -ABSENT TREATMENT - -HELPING FREDDIE - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - - -Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. -Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's -like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements -at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know -the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train -for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to -think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're -right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of -omniscience. - -As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond -Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I -felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address -of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the -hour. - -"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one -of Mr. Byng's." - -"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." - -"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." - -"Unsuitable for you, sir." - -Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came -home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I -nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a -music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in -absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and -that's all there is to it. - -But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, -though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows -everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." -I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, -red-hot tabasco. - -"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good -turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on -Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" - -He shook his head. - -"I'd rather not, sir." - -"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." - -"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second -place is what the stable is after." - -Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know -anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till -he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and -nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. - -"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. -From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." - -"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." - -And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean -would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, -don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with -Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, -when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to -ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. - -"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. - -I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my -cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square -way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I -left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to -stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got -the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound -scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and -having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out -to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm -bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody -was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going -on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced -me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before -I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses -up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly -around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy -coves. - -Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, -but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines -with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the -game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the -thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people -come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until -you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a -chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture -for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got -a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the -advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived -from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in -the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's -apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had -made quite an indecently large stack out of it. - -Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty -soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle -was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was -fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, -however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had -no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the -way the above Worple used to harry him. - -Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't -think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to -chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and -work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with -him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what -Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom -of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too -beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an -artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by -using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to -cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. - -He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple -was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the -American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. -When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he -just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start -being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was -what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called -_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More -American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that -he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds -gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let -him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked -with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so -these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the -time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the -frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when -broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. - -To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of -extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that -Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction -on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I -should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. - -So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl -in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancée, Miss -Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the -one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke -were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" - -The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking -anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but -can't think what the deuce to do with the body. - -"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you -might suggest a way of breaking it to him." - -Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a -way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were -the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it -yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me -as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man -isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of -feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, -little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was -nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those -innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your -system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out -to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to -tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, -you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and -dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I -felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. - -"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said -to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." - -Corky declined to cheer up. - -"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. -That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of -principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had -gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he -would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." - -I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. - -"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance -without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" - -"But how can I work it that way?" - -I saw his point. That was the catch. - -"There's only one thing to do," I said. - -"What's that?" - -"Leave it to Jeeves." - -And I rang the bell. - -"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy -things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very -seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies -in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in -a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they -want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he -says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite -bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh -of animals slain in anger and pie. - -The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful -attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost -child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him -that gave me confidence. - -Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye -gleams with the light of pure intelligence. - -"Jeeves, we want your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. - -"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way -by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting -on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, try to think of something." - -"I have thought of something already, sir." - -"You have!" - -"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may -seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial -outlay." - -"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an -idea, but it's going to cost a bit." - -Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the -whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting -gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. - -"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only -too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." - -"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's -attachment to ornithology." - -"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" - -"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite -unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the -flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. -Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I -have mentioned." - -"Oh! Well?" - -"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let -us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it -to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, -sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to -eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the -same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy -to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in -which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one -to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired -result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." - -I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage -when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had -betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me -down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to -hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's -brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. - -"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -The girl made an objection. - -"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even -write good letters." - -"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the -direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of -our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will -receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose -your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both -feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency -to kick like a steer." - -I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family -when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the -recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and -the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it -is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but -uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, -legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. - -But Jeeves had a solution, of course. - -"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious -author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for -a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should -appear on the title page." - -"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred -dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand -words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different -names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. -I'll get after him right away." - -"Fine!" - -"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent -fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number -now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while -a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real -work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the -old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny -book came along. - -I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The -Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was -there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang -at the door and the parcel was delivered. - -It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some -species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened -a copy at random. - -"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as -you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, -carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are -older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful -book--_American Birds_." - -You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later -there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed -cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap -who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. -I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the -world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a -certain disposition towards chumminess in him. - -"It's a cert!" I said. - -"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. - -And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to -tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so -dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. -Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author -of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would -be delighted to make her acquaintance. - -Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had -invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for -several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been -wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out -right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop -into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel -inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by -herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out -telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. - -"Well, well, well, what?" I said. - -"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" - -"Corky around?" - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" - -"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." - -It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a -kind of thingummy, you know. - -"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" - -"A row?" - -"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both -sides--er--and all that sort of thing." - -"Why, whatever makes you think that?" - -"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually -dined with him before you went to the theatre." - -"I've left the stage now." - -Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time -I had been away. - -"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" - -"Yes." - -"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." - -"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is -a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." - -I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of -healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he -looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. - -"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of -Bruce's, Alexander." - -The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from -hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. - -"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you -would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this -playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I -noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be -introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. -Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the -pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you -dined?" - -I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I -wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. - -When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I -called him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid -of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of -news for you." - -He came back with a tray and a long glass. - -"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." - -"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." - -"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You -remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by -writing the book on birds?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." - -He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. - -"That was always a development to be feared, sir." - -"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" - -"It crossed my mind as a possibility." - -"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" - -"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." - -Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer -frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to -it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a -cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the -same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky -again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of -soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few -months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was -beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather -up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the -healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on -it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple -had presented her husband with a son and heir. - -I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to -touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled -over. Absolutely. It was the limit. - -I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to -Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and -then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the -touch. I gave it him in waves. - -But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it -was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this -just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I -pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his -bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I -bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the -studio. - -I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting -away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle -age, holding a baby. - -A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. - -"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. - -Corky looked over his shoulder. - -"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will -be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby -and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. - -"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, please." - -"Good afternoon." - -"Good afternoon." - -Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and -began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for -granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as -awkward as it might have been. - -"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The -portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes -the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. -If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted -with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a -portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in -and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it -rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into -the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit -me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't -refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my -allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I -suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a -patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted -him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front -page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are -moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist -Beans Baby With Axe.'" - -I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was -too deep for words. - -I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't -seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm -bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally -of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. - -But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. - -"Bertie." - -"Halloa?" - -"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" - -"Nothing special." - -"You couldn't come down here, could you?" - -"What's the trouble? Anything up?" - -"I've finished the portrait." - -"Good boy! Stout work!" - -"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it -doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's -coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but -I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" - -I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The -sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. - -"You think he'll cut up rough?" - -"He may." - -I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the -restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too -easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. - -"I'll come," I said. - -"Good!" - -"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" - -"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves -is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" - -"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of -yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a -den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." - -"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang -for Jeeves, and explained the situation. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. - -We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up -in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. - -"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, -tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" - -The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good -look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I -went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite -so bad from there. - -"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. - -I hesitated a bit. - -"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a -moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I -remember rightly?" - -"As ugly as that?" - -I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. - -"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." - -Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort -of way. He groaned. - -"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned -thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked -that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of -the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put -the child's soul on canvas." - -"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how -he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" - -"I doubt it, sir." - -"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" - -"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. - -"I don't see how one could help noticing." - -"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. -But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." - -"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in -the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't -you think so, Jeeves?" - -"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." - -Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle -came in. - -For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy -shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't -think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his -stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't -notice him. - -"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really -finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a -wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" - -And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he -rocked back on his heels. - -"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the -scaliest silences I've ever run up against. - -"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about -sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. - -I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. - -"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. - -"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far -away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on -Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk -of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and -my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a -house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a -competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured -supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail -and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this -foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for -idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report -at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and -start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you -should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another -cent--not another--Boosh!" - -Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out -of the bombproof shelter. - -"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. - -Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was -a hunted look in his eye. - -"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. - -"What are you going to do?" - -"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You -heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." - -I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about -the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It -was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just -been sentenced to twenty years in quod. - -And then a soothing voice broke the silence. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" - -It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at -the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the -shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by -saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves -was there. - -"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby -Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? -He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite -saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him -use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which -he promoted." - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" - -"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects -a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he -did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of -Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. -It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a -billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial -fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage -for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks -into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always -a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In -the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a -coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable -one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a -likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly -consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. -Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been -for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold -and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly -popular." - -Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking -noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. - -And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. - -"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor -blighter was hysterical. - -He began to stagger about all over the floor. - -"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! -You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on -Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I -feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the -_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the -other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me -anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. -Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded -hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" - -Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal -muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to -smiling. - -"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the -series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" - -Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. -Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. - -"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished -looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an -optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with -Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest -before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the -swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for -instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the -eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the -neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" - -"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, -sir. Extremely diverting." - -"They have made a big hit, you know." - -"I anticipated it, sir." - -I leaned back against the pillows. - -"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a -commission on these things." - -"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has -been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." - -"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"But I rather fancy myself in it." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"Oh, all right, have it your own way." - -"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is -always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? - - - - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - - -I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's -Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that -it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and -more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up -behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. -It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy -matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned -up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. - -It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from -under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of -fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had -asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you -know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming -a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much -mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's -judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when -he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like -a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in -the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who -was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but -the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John -Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by -another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after -a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how -things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of -manly and independent. - -Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for -breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and -sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and -opened the door an inch. - -"What ho without there!" - -"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. - -"Eh?" - -"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." - -"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for -I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well -there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be -when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" - -"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean -liner at an early hour this morning." - -This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had -arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at -some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a -foreign shore considerably before eight. - -"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" - -"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." - -"Is she alone?" - -"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his -lordship would be her ladyship's son." - -"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." - -"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." - -"Then lead me to it." - -While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern -could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and -was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. - -"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left -London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on -social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." - -"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" - -"Eh?" - -"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" - -It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather -a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work -the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. - -"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. -Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" - -"Too ornate, sir." - -"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." - -"Unsuitable, sir." - -"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" - -"Very good, sir." - -Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was -firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into -the sitting-room. - -"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" - -"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I -think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." - -Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed -female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet -from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as -if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing -arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging -eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about -fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb -a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and -had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say -how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would -wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. - -Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. -He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered -down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't -bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the -struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any -eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. - -"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a -long stay in America?" - -"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure -and call on you." - -I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to -come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, -when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie -from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you -that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only -married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, -you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I -simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find -that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to -make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked -America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my -natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone -to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I -braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the -assemblage. - -"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be -of assistance to us." - -"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" - -"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little -while." - -I didn't get this for a moment. - -"Put him up? For my clubs?" - -"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty -darling?" - -Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. - -"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. - -"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have -him to live with you while I am away." - -These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply -didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave -Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling -the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on -me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't -you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board -at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle -into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, -rolling placidly over me, as it were. - -There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. - -"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to -Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in -America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, -visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I -am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, -_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write -a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend -more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, -but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my -dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ -after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with -me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall -have to pick him up on my return." - -From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the -breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I -felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of -putting a stop to this woman. - -"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. -Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear -Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the -country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He -will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as -if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped -chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. -"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give -him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you -so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your -help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before -my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my -information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and -take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. -Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." - -They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. - -"Jeeves! What about it?" - -"Sir?" - -"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the -dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." - -"Pill, sir?" - -"The excrescence." - -"I beg your pardon, sir?" - -I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was -as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I -understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to -get his own back. - -"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said -coldly. - -"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." - -I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any -sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a -moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he -didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I -was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! - -But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a -pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the -more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty -out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt -Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or -later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to -get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a -stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the -fellow up and make the best of it. - -About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel -of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw -it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough -in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more -cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, -and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch -with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with -excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, -the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost -forgotten blighted Motty's existence. - -I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't -till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of -Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. - -It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still -there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after -seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. - -Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the -chappie's manner that he was still upset. - -"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and -what-not. - -"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." - -"Not returned? What do you mean?" - -"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, -went out again." - -At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of -scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the -woodwork. Then a sort of thud. - -"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He went out and came back again. - -"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able -to carry him in." - -"Carry him in?" - -"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." - -I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up -outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. - -"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. -"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" - -"Sir?" - -"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or -something. Call up a doctor!" - -"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his -lordship's legs, while I----" - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" - -"I am inclined to think so, sir." - -And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't -mistake it. Motty was under the surface. - -It was the deuce of a shock. - -"You never can tell, Jeeves!" - -"Very seldom, sir." - -"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" - -"It would seem so, sir." - -"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette -and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It -seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. - -Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went -into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a -wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading -Gingery stories. - -"What ho!" I said. - -"What ho!" said Motty. - -"What ho! What ho!" - -"What ho! What ho! What ho!" - -After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. - -"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. - -"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, -that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most -frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy -dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own -invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one -of the ones!" - -I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and -sucked his stick the day before. - -"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I -said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. -But he wouldn't have it, at any price. - -"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too -much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm -going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see -me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on -the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the -defect." - -"But I say, you know, what about me?" - -"What about you?" - -"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I -mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in -the soup somewhat." - -"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old -thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to -yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great -city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so -bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my -eyes open and collect impressions." - -I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. - -"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if -my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But -duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean -to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with -life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" - -Put like that, it did seem reasonable. - -"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in -the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've -been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The -only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught -sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about -it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up -a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only -chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old -sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent -chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to -discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" - - * * * * * - -I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close -to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a -damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was -being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye -he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him -along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful -sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand -the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I -mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I -think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled -eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing -are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all -over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when -you want to sit still and digest. - -Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made -up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about -with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once -when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had -to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ -for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie -peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. - -In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about -four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over -about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. -I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no -denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of -Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded -Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of -the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to -get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and -sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and -putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber -next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose -weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest -word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. - -And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man -was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't -rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the -pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. - -"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" - -"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. - -"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the -principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha -is!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well, then." - -I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. - -"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping -with this blighter?" - -"No, sir." - -And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, -don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that -Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much -admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he -left me flat. - -It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing -pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. -This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of -town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. -I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the -evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who -frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. -That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The -neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian -dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere -wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a -collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song -when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked -peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was -extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of -soothing. - -The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place -which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty -there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch -on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared -hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an -extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped -backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall -just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" - -"That would be Rollo, sir." - -"Eh?" - -"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come -in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet -settled down." - -"Who the deuce is Rollo?" - -"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, -and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will -go in and switch on the light." - -There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the -sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without -a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such -that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down -as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his -paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have -been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all -worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me -where he had left off. - -"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally -quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." - -"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." - -"No, sir." - -"Well, what am I to do?" - -"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will -learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." - -"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I -intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that -one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all -right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and -stop with Mr. Todd in the country." - -"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" - -"No." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." - -"Yes, sir." - - * * * * * - -As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I -went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the -wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing -goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a -few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New -York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. -The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't -get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you -have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I -thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they -have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I -went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked -round cautiously for Rollo. - -"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" - -"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the -porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal -on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." - -I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had -misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a -lot of intelligence in him. - -"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Do you expect him back to dinner?" - -"No, sir." - -"Where is he?" - -"In prison, sir." - -Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? -That's how I felt then. - -"In prison!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You don't mean--in prison?" - -"Yes, sir." - -I lowered myself into a chair. - -"Why?" I said. - -"He assaulted a constable, sir." - -"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" - -"Yes, sir." - -I digested this. - -"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" - -"Sir?" - -"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" - -"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." - -"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." - -"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out -by then." - -"But supposing it hasn't?" - -"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." - -"How?" - -"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that -his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." - -"Why Boston?" - -"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." - -"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." - -"I fancy so, sir." - -"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this -hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a -sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." - -"Exactly, sir." - -The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze -seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what -the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have -pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I -reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a -small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick -at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. -Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. -Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that -I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty -existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was -still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, -but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was -tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There -was a kind of grieved look in his eye. - -And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't -been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping -along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea -and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement -that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few -garments round me and went in. - -There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as -ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she -had done the first time. - -"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" - -"I have got back." - -There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had -swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she -probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that -I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a -fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've -engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. - -"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" - -"I have not yet breakfasted." - -"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or -something?" - -"No, thank you." - -She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for -the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. - -"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." - -"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" - -"Extremely, thank you." - -"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old -Grand Canyon, and what-not?" - -"I saw a great deal." - -There was another slightly _frappé_ silence. Jeeves floated -silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. - -"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" - -I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. - -"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." - -"You were his constant companion, then?" - -"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you -know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of -lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred -concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually -played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing -sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to -Boston." - -"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" - -"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where -you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, -don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. -Yes, Motty went off to Boston." - -"You're sure he went to Boston?" - -"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in -the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't -change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" - -"No, sir." - -"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." - -"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went -yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material -for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, -seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" - -I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has -to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like -this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar -and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, -because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my -system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling -it up, and now it came out with a rush: - -"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! -So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, -thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to -you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to -the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" - -I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of -Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the -hatchet against my return. - -"You deliberately----" - -Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: - -"If I might explain, your ladyship." - -Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized -on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't -do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. - -"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and -that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when -his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that -his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had -given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a -friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till -your ladyship informed him." - -Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. - -"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is -so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, -so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away -for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that -his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, -but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." - -"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore -went to prison voluntarily?" - -"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's -parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently -heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow -your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's -book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his -lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was -doing so little to help." - -"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. - -"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of -the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one -night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." - -Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I -could see her struggling with the thing. - -"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose -that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own -volition than that he committed some breach of the law which -necessitated his arrest?" - -Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. - -"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I -should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his -pure, fine spirit." - -"Absolutely!" I said. - -"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. - -I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. - -"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that -blighter into riotous living." - -"I fancy you are right, sir." - -I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, -by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that -this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I -hesitated. Then I made up my mind. - -"Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"That pink tie!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Burn it!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"And, Jeeves!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" - -"Thank you very much, sir." - -I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and -all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the -novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and -decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other -things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would -like?" - -"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." - -"Fifty dollars?" - -"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his -lordship." - -"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" - -"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship -was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable -method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship -was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me -for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering -him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the -eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." - -I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. - -"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, -you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" - -"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. - - - - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - - -Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup -of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting -out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do -if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad -now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There -used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak -him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered -him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's -got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to -look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry -eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! - -The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot -it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. - -I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. -And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself -on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances -knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, -of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. - -It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to -the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink -he said: - -"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were -out." - -"Oh?" I said. - -"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." - -"What, pipped?" - -"He gave that impression, sir." - -I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a -matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss -freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained -between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on -anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You -see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this -had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, -and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval -till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while -there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is -absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was -getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my -costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the -time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my -pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim -on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old -bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. - -"He said that he would call again later, sir." - -"Something must be up, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a -good deal, so I chucked it. - -"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on -the _Carmantic_." - -"Yes?" - -"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." - -This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one -knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species -of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my -arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I -rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in -fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so -we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort -in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and -what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily -gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though -we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him -was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the -strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. - -"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? -Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who -married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." - -Jeeves knows everything. - -"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Leave any money?" - -"No, sir." - -I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the -rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I -mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but -the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy -old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was -notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American -chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left -him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old -duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was -hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. -He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on -principle. - -At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. - -"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky -came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. - -"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. -Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the -trouble, Bicky?" - -"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." - -"Say on, old lad!" - -"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -Bicky seemed a bit surprised. - -"Jeeves seems to know everything." - -"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." - -"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out -of the hole I'm in." - -Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the -table. - -"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you -to rally round." - -"Very good, sir." - -Bicky looked a bit doubtful. - -"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit -private and all that." - -"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it -already. Don't you, Jeeves?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. - -"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact -that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York -instead of in Colorado?" - -Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. - -"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" - -"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He -informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on -the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." - -Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. - -"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try -to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I -was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a -remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of -the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they -call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't -fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, -and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the -scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that -remittance." - -"I get you absolutely, dear boy." - -"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, -so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I -cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business -wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back -that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm -doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you -know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" - -"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was -coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always -given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I -can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." - -"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. - -"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you -prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" - -"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." - -"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. -Bickersteth----" - -"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, -and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast -that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of -course." - -"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this -flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was -the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I -was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be -residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would -occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this -answer satisfactorily, sir." - -Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed -sort of way. - -"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace -on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. -Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. -Will that meet the situation, sir?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Thank you, sir." - -Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. - -"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it -is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you -ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the -back!" - - * * * * * - -I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present -when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean -liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much -after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was -leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. -It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish -he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in -general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down -below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out -and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could -make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York -to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of -London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy -said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and -the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. - -"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir?" - -"That'll be him at the door now." - -Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy -crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. - -"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of -sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must -have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of -Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. -Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." - -Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. - -"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" - -"Absolutely." - -"It must be terribly expensive." - -"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." - -He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at -it to restore his tissues, and nodded. - -"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight -shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look -round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how -much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" - -"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." - -"What! Forty pounds a month!" - -I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the -scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was -thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew -of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, -for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as -an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most -pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. - -"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York -often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you -wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. -Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, -when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite -different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in -commercial circles as quite the nib!" - -"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" - -"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and -Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. -"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads -elsewhere." - -Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. - -"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" - -"He's upstairs now, having some tea." - -"What does he think of it all?" - -"He's absolutely rattled." - -"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See -you later." - -"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." - -He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the -club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and -going down the other. - -It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for -dinner. - -"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering -about the place. "Gone out?" - -"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. -Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective -was Grant's Tomb." - -"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are -going--what?" - -"Sir?" - -"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." - -"Not altogether, sir." - -"What's his trouble now?" - -"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth -and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, -sir." - -"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in -business, and all that sort of thing?" - -"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. -Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth -is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary -assistance." - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." - -"Somewhat disturbing, sir." - -"I never expected anything like this!" - -"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." - -"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." - -My heart bled for Bicky. - -"We must do something, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Can you think of anything?" - -"Not at the moment, sir." - -"There must be something we can do." - -"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I -mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there -is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the -occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his -title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting -failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another -name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have -generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No -doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's -difficulty, sir." - -"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" - -"I will spare no pains, sir." - -I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was -when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a -dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time -than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill -of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. - -When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, -hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette -hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare -in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the -newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." - -"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. - -He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact -that it hadn't anything in it. - -"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. - -He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. - -"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money -was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been -reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can -make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars -and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a -hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every -day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep -of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every -seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. -Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have -more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep -in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd -make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get -quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair -at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no -good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." - -"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." - -"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." - -That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend -money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it -to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift -the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled -tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the -second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along -Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my -neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've -simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a -hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight -and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his -uppers, not taking any at any price. - -"Well, there's only one hope, then." - -"What's that?" - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of -shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting -in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you -look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little -uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. -He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves -now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my -tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" - -"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have -found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a -liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's -potentialities as a source of revenue." - -Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, -mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, -rather like a gargle. - -"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of -inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of -regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say -so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." - -Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't -get it myself. - -"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" - -"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a -prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you -are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent -personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might -know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two -dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including -handshake, to his grace." - -Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. - -"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid -cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" - -"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for -bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave -her social standing among the neighbours." - -Bicky wavered. - -"If you think it could be done----" - -"I feel convinced of it, sir." - -"What do you think, Bertie?" - -"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." - -"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." - -And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. - -Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making -proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock -Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays -I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market -opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened -quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest -the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the -week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper -down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in -sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of -light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money -down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, -owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to -kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me -the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things -take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as -a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. - -The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it -hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of -his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever -met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room -one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was -something doing. - -"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" - -"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." - -"Sir?" - -"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." - -"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." - -"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" - -"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." - -I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. - -"Birdsburg?" - -"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." - -"How did you get them?" - -"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be -absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into -conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. -I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his -buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for -Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a -gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the -auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to -inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming -a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if -Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was -purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at -some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. -It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and -pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had -shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to -broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I -have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention -shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." - -I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. - -"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" - -"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms -finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." - -I thought a bit. - -"Payable in advance?" - -"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not -successful." - -"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. -Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect -anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" - -"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not -bright." - -"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some -money." - -"Yes, sir." - -"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Right-o!" - -"Very good, sir." - -When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told -him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the -sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic -section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. - -"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? -I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you -know." - -The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. - -"There will be no reporters among them?" - -"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" - -"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive -young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while -the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this -persecution again." - -"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man -in the place." - -"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your -friends." - -"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" - -"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules -of civilized intercourse." - -Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, -where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. - -After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg -contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal -round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very -decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn -it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We -settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, -each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the -duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up -Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted -with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the -Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out -some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we -thanked him. - -Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the -cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every -respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth -up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and -what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of -apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be -brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. - -"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. - -The old boy seemed a bit rattled. - -"I have never been to Birdsburg." - -The chappie seemed pained. - -"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in -the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" - -"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. - -The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. - -"Say!" - -He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins -and a cold eye. - -The assemblage looked at him. - -"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not -questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict -business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on -record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." - -"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. - -"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but -there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here -says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're -the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read -English novels, and I know all about it." - -"This is monstrous!" - -"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to -know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should -see that we get our money's worth." - -The water-supply cove chipped in: - -"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the -agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to -reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here -a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want -to know----" - -Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the -water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. - -"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite -politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." - -"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens -of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands -with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my -friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. -Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are -the Duke of Chiswick at all." - -Old Chiswick gulped. - -"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that -I am the Duke of Chiswick." - -"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we -wanted to know. Let the thing go on." - -"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am -feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." - -"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at -this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." - -"I fear I must disappoint them." - -"But in that case the deal would have to be off." - -"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." - -The chappie seemed troubled. - -"You really won't meet the rest of them?" - -"No!" - -"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." - -They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick -turned to Bicky: - -"Well?" - -Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. - -"Was it true what that man said?" - -"Yes, uncle." - -"What do you mean by playing this trick?" - -Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. - -"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." - -Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: - -"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of -money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if -you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every -day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five -cents. - -"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" - -"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a -substantial business man." - -"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. -"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance -of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly -in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the -ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." - -Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. - -"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your -financial status!" - -"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He -doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot -stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think -it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" - -"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a -penny!" - -"But----" - -"Not a penny!" - -There was a respectful cough in the background. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" - -Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. - -"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. - -"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a -little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might -secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this -afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and -enterprising newspapers." - -"By Jove!" I said. - -"By George!" said Bicky. - -"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. - -"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. -They eat that sort of stuff." - -Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. - -"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" - -"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't -get the money any other way----" - -"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange -something." - -"I won't go to that bally ranch." - -"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a -moment suggest it. I--I think----" - -He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, -on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I -might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to -utilize your services in some secretarial position." - -"I shouldn't mind that." - -"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in -English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" - -"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred -quid a year, paid quarterly." - -"My dear boy!" - -"Absolutely!" - -"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled -opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to -accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, -you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." - -"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, -that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. -It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens -has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen -chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's -a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. -Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till -they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a -future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" - -A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be -resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. - -"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." - -"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to -celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It beats me how you do it." - -"Yes, sir." - -"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" - -"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify -his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to -assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position -to do so." - -"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. - -"Bring my shaving things." - -A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. - -"You mean, sir?" - -"And shave off my moustache." - -There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. - -"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped -off. - - - - -ABSENT TREATMENT - - -I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most -interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but -I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. -If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; -and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a -girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. - -If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be -surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for -the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who -have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised -when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. - -In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most -pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called -me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it -came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap -was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him -a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him -a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before -the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to -see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. -By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town -before my messenger arrived. - -The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. -Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, -once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that -stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. - -At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't -occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; -that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup -chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still -doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like -that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, -as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out -things. - -She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave -about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her -living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life -there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a -girl who works for her living. - -Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she -had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those -determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself -up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and -rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't -been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to -the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. - -Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he -introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my -name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. -My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He -left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but -I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a -girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being -an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat -for years. - -Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come -to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the -greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she -thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about -her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie -didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being -quite happy. - -Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't -really start till then. - -They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite -a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be -running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I -thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There -were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. - -But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here -that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. - -I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back -to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting -myself under police protection, I went. - -When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell -you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and -crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And -she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to -describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this -was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were -dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked -domesticity. - -"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have -a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it -up now--what?" - -She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned -scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little -laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree -about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. - -"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at -me. - -And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She -talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on -the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly -little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of -thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was -working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and -that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and -everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've -sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the -rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and -got away. - -Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie -at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely -gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. - -He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to -about it. - -"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. - -I didn't exactly. - -"About a year, isn't it?" - -"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" - -Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. - -"Yesterday was----?" - -"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the -Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. -I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through -dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd -forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" - -"Till your wife mentioned it?" - -He nodded---- - -"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. - -I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be -angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, -they aren't half-hearted about it. - -"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken -sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." - -There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat -there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the -window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and -watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then -walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an -instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a -certain stratum of sense. - - * * * * * - -It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem -of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in -one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; -but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the -average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable -mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently -through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a -chump of the first water. - -And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And -Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like -dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork -disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him -against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. -Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might -cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I -had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my -life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I -forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. - -For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet -little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read -somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to -Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big -enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. -Pretty soon he was back at the old game. - -It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was -frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew -it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married -one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's -married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to -do it now, before he began to drift away. - -I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he -was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't -remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was -something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a -book. - -"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she -knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about -everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." - -He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a -couple of sovereigns. - -"Oh, by the way," he said. - -"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. - -"I owe it you." - -"How's that?" I said. - -"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were -playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, -and Murray beat him by twenty odd." - -"So you do remember some things?" I said. - -He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter -who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after -knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. - -"Subside, laddie," I said. - -Then I spoke to him like a father. - -"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull -yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're -due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to -make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, -even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've -got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included -in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." - -"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks -such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot -what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the -cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a -memorizing freak at the halls." - -"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear -that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be -trouble." - -He chewed the knob of his stick. - -"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. - -"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. - - * * * * * - -I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing -in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, -and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But -no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. -I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to -anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. -If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the -only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After -that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. -But I thought a lot about him. - -Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, -and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a -kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had -been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that -he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the -thorax. - -I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out -over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and -down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed -Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, -waving a piece of paper in his hand. - -"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" - -"Gone!" I said. "Who?" - -"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" - -"Where?" I said. - -Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly -foamed at the mouth. - -"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." - -He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. - -"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." - -So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, -but it was all to the point. This is what it said: - - "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me - to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will - come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." - -I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" - -"Why don't I what?" - -"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to -ask." - -"But she says on her birthday." - -"Well, when is her birthday?" - -"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." - -"Forgotten!" I said. - -"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." - -"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the -twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" - -"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the -thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." - -"Think." - -"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've -been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." - -"And you can't remember?" - -"No." - -I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. - -"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an -untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes -and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's -birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know -enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his -deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself -out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For -instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What -sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." - -Bobbie shook his head. - -"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." - -"Warm?" - -"Warmish." - -"Or cold?" - -"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." - -I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young -Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An -invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without -which no home is complete." - -Bobbie seemed to be thinking. - -"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on -her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the -date when it was bought, and the thing's done." - -"Absolutely. What did you give her?" - -He sagged. - -"I can't remember," he said. - -Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's -as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever -had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did -it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the -undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a -brain-wave. - -Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? -There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, -your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. -Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we -found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the -month, and narrow it down a whole lot. - -A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied -out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. -As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we -saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, -but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly -hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December -people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." -Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite -extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born -with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed -up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful -memories"--Mary's speciality. - -We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. - -Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that -month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a -happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women -"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and -expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was -about as like Mary as anything could be. - -In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went -home. - -It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old -Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It -represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the -middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that -is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had -a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think -in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his -brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow -human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was -all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these -brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all -over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would -only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the -idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. - -I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he -came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I -never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. - -One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see -that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. - -"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I -shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went -together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" - -"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" - -"Why, they change the programme every week there." - -"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." - -"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's -Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing -it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this -minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out -of them, if I have to use a crowbar." - -So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like -brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the -pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. - -"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me -another time." - -"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." - -And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. - -Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. -I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It -was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. - -"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. -We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have -been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." - -"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." - -I heard him give a sort of howl. - -"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. - -"Well?" - -"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the -Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to -bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." - -"But I'm always writing cheques." - -"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up -your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the -Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." - -He gave a kind of gulp. - -"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe -you've got it. Hold the line." - -Presently he came back again. - -"Halloa!" he said. - -"I'm here," I said. - -"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" - -"Topping," I said. "Good night." - -It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as -well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel -near the Strand. - -"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. - -"It's late," said the man at the other end. - -"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." - -I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had -frozen hard, but I was past regrets. - -"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. - -"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that -particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." - -"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" - -"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." - -She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must -be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't -you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about -my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. - -"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" - -"No." - -Well, I hadn't. - -"Mr. Pepper." - -"Yes?" - -"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" - -I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the -party. - -"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. -He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has -started out to worry after breakfast, and----" - -Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should -pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the -wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, -don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she -bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in -that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it -means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. - -And then she began. - -"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and -see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from -you would have put everything right, I can't----" - -"But----" - -"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most -unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a -kind-hearted man." - -"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" - -"I thought it hateful, abominable." - -"But you said it was absolutely top----" - -"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't -wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to -be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to -separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by -gloating over his agony----" - -"But----!" - -"When one single word would have----" - -"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. - -"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to -break your promise?" - -I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the -receiver, and crawled into bed. - - * * * * * - -I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit -the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing -invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes -went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And -as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself -together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I -am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: -"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every -minute." - - - - -HELPING FREDDIE - - -I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but -I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at -literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give -the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all -right. - -Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for -years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him -sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and -generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I -was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and -soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of -thing. - -Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes -plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to -question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the -matter was. - -As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with -Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the -engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently -she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused -to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. - -I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once -in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact -that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my -autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. - -"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to -Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the -twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." - -"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I -knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl -wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; -suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never -answered at all." - -But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had -swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to -Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. - -Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a -fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day -there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll -out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on -the wounds and go to bed. - -It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze -sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a -rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round -waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers -the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. - -Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I -began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: -for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write -home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the -carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one -finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't -play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would -blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. - -He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. - -"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." - -"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" - -"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the -doorway. She cut me!" - -He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. - -"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go -away." - -"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that -could have happened. This is where you come out strong." - -"She cut me." - -"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." - -"She looked clean through me!" - -"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. -I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her -under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly -thanking you. What you want----" - -"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" - -I thought for a moment. - -"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. - -"I can't swim," said Freddie. - -That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a -thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. - -He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. - -I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. -There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear -old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in -happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a -backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a -man of enterprise. - -Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring -like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it -was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs -of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. -She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. -On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the -girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced -that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had -been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about -the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't -think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one -of those round, bulging kids. - -After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and -began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling -sweets at a stall. And I walked on. - -Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I -don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been -chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least -expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. -I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a -single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. - -It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, -when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. -The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in -sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought -the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of -the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was -her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young -heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully -anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly -appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the -effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and -practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make -her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid -and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of -reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by -George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. - -Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine -points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him -down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if -you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and -poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. - -"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? -What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" - -The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I -raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right -stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the -stuff. - -"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. -After a while it began to strike him. - -"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said -handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." - -And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to -scour the beach for Angela. - -I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie -that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again -made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was -leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down -the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still -with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. - -"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" - -"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow -laughs. - -"Well, then----?" - -Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. - -"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. - -"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the -beach. She had never seen him before in her life." - -"What! Who is he, then?" - -"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll -probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for -kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you -through the bars." - -"Tell me all, old boy," I said. - -It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the -middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered -gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he -told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually -call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of -way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping -stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had -crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. - -"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it -at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find -the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." - - * * * * * - -By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal -kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to -restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how -kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, -but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from -the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself -in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought -to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, -and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. - -I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody -answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody -came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way -that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I -wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from -somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" - -I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and -west of it, staring down from an upper window. - -"Hi!" it shouted again. - -"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. - -"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" - -"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you -Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." - -"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" - -The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face -reappeared. - -"Hi!" - -I churned the gravel madly. - -"Do you live here?" said the face. - -"I'm staying here for a few weeks." - -"What's your name?" - -"Pepper. But----" - -"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" - -"My uncle. But----" - -"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him -now." - -"I wish you were," I said. - -He beamed down at me. - -"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to -do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles -has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of -infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most -fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate -to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any -nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take -Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written -to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few -days." - -"May!" - -"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a -week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. -Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." - -"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a -bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to -escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. - -I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. - -The window flew up again. - -"Hi!" - -A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a -bomb. - -"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed -it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's -Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a -little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." - -My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. -Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat -from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. - -As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. - -The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at -her and said, "Wah!" - -The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. - -"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you -again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this -morning," she said to me. - -This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered -lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded -good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my -breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. - -I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out -what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more -manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his -head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he -began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, -dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such -expressions. - -"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, -why don't you say something?" - -"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"What can we do about it?" - -"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." - -He got up. - -"I'm going back to London," he said. - -"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you -desert a pal at a time like this?" - -"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." - -"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize -that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You -wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we -were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." - -He sat down again. - -"Oh, well," he said resignedly. - -"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you -know?" - -He looked at me in a curious way. - -"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good -deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." - -Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that -crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the -local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically -incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty -satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having -undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there -were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. - -Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew -what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere -matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I -stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which -might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like -nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. - -But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next -bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their -nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid -dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered -wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat -down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver -lining there had been to the cloud up to date. - -"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a -child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and -domestic--what!" - -Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he -had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a -much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, -the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. - -Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the -kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his -portmanteau. - -"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of -thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little -treasure?" - -I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. - -"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad -situation for act two of a farce." - -"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. - -"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll -rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." - -As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid -down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. - -"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the -old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping -child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. -Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the -piano?" - -"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." - -Jimmy shook his head. - -"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. -Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit -of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up -to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' -Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses -L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big -speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very -well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes -us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just -giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the -child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We -want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and -has the punch." - -"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, -that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts -Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." - -Jimmy frowned. - -"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set -instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, -when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First -rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." - -Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not -to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't -in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we -concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw -that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing -was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. - -"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first -rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his -line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two -words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got -a success." - -I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be -one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning -intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as -exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the -kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd -go all to pieces again. And time was flying. - -"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day -now and take him away." - -"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. -We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes -who would have learned the part quicker." - -I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't -discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash -at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was -after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have -been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first -opportunity, but Jimmy said no. - -"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said -'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might -do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." - -But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. - -It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie -had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the -house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along -came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual -yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. - -"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come -up?" - -She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that -sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the -kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the -sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At -any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the -veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. - -I tried to break up the scene. - -"We were just going down to the beach," I said. - -"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your -piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for -ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when -he's finished here?" - -"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be -disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell -him later." - -"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine -Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he -will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." - -"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. - -She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in -her pocket for something. - -"The beach," I babbled. - -"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't -you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of -toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. - -That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid -was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. - -And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for -all the world as if he had been taking a cue. - -He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the -ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" - -The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy -Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards -it. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. - -"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. - -"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on -till you do." - -She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still -stood there gaping, without a word. - -"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her -eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a -fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. -Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and -see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. -It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as -if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up -and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. - -"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. - -I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. -Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief -remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the -while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. - -And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. - -And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She -leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while -Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. - -Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it -seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in -my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a -word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. -What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? - -Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. - -"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? -We must have a big rehearsal to-day." - -"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor -dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." - -"Tell me," said Jimmy. - -I told him. - -"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's -always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things -look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now -a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" - -"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" - -In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow -from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite -projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the -road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, -about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as -if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped -in each other's arms. - - * * * * * - -Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his -business had certainly gone with a bang! - - - - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - - -I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the -course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, -was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, -don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. - -We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an -old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, -my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's -maid Pilbeam and George. - -George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him -into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who -was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to -hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he -had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was -a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a -sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a -chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and -had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it -struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at -Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix -up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George -had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were -anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the -thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from -a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my -state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed -and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, -which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly -recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd -expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently -relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my -midst at that hour was too much for me. - -"Voules!" I yelled. - -Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing -in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with -that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay -him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of -emotion in him. - -"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be -Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just -seven." - -"I understood you to summon me, sir." - -"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise -outside." - -"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment -I raised my voice." - -"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" - -"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." - -"What was all the trouble about?" - -"I was breaking our engagement, sir." - -I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with -engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his -secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. - -"I think I'll get up," I said. - -"Yes, sir." - -"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right -away?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was -a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all -the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. -Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit -pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for -it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? - -"Seen George?" I asked. - -I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was -queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly -close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and -slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; -she loves muh!" - -"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. - -I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that -a.m. - -The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when -the morning papers arrived. - -Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. - -"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. - -"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. - -"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." - -Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was -full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness -the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these -chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on -his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed -the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking -advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable -vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible -in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his -yacht, where he still lay unconscious. - -"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for -slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" - -"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His -Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent -private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the -police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important -clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in -Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." - -About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move -off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man -came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old -Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. - -"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on -board--Mr. George Lattaker?" - -"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I -say?" - -"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on -somewhat urgent business." - -"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him -up." - -I went down to George's state-room. - -"George, old man!" I shouted. - -No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's -more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more -surprised. I went on deck. - -"He isn't there," I said. - -"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone -for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better -wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" - -The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped -down, leaving me alone on deck. - -I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought -I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked -over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in -evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old -George. - -"Great Scot!" I cried. - -"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" - -"They're all down at breakfast." - -He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I -regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. - -"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. - -He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. - -"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How -do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about -touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of -my body this morning, Reggie!" - -"Yes, old boy?" - -"I did a murder last night." - -"What?" - -"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella -Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" - -"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" - -"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I -proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was -just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming -along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's -maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, -Reggie?" - -"Never. I've been refused dozens----" - -"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I -hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest -thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It -wasn't. It was Pilbeam." - -"You kissed her?" - -"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened -and out came Stella." - -"Great Scott!" - -"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, -not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It -did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed -off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to -forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned -my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can -recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street -and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all -I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my -hat." - -I dived for the paper. - -"Read," I said. "It's all there." - -He read. - -"Good heavens!" he said. - -"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" - -"Reggie, this is awful." - -"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." - -"That doesn't matter." - -"It does to him." - -He read the paper again. - -"It says they've a clue." - -"They always say that." - -"But--My hat!" - -"Eh?" - -"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman -Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" - -"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" - -He jumped a foot in the air. - -"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the -matter?" - -"The man!" - -"What man?" - -"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you -did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted -to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the -look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." - -"No!" - -"I feel it. I'm sure of it." - -"Had he a hat?" - -"Of course he had a hat." - -"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" - -"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must -get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your -life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lèse-majesté_. -It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to -waste." - -"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or -something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire -my uncle to meet me in----" - -"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" - -He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, -carrying a letter on a tray. - -"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A -letter has arrived for him." - -"He isn't here." - -"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" - -"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." - -"Very good, sir." - -"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to -see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" - -"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." - -"Ah! That's all, Voules." - -"Thank you, sir." - -He retired. I called to George, and he came out. - -"Who was it?" - -"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast -still. The sleuth's eating kippers." - -"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his -letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. - -"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. - -"Reggie, this is a queer thing." - -"What's that?" - -He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he -had grunted. This is how it ran: - - "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I - think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious - situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which - your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are - expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have - reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard - your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or - kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both - babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it - was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a - letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos - Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has - only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on - his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like - other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile - his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can - hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a - thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take - some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we - meet.--Your affectionate uncle, - - "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." - -I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I -do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I -have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. - -"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." - -"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this -chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, -though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have -to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, -failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently -there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected -offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." - -"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of -your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to -stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." - -He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. - -"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." - -"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of -twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't -Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you -up that you have a brother Alfred." - -"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." - -"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your -life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective -off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." - -At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. - -"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. - -"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll -swear George hadn't one." - -"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making -things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." - -"No, no." - -"You _are_." - -"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." - -And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. - -"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." - -I looked at George. George looked at me. - -"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us -away, would you, Voules?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You would?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by -it?" - -"Financially, sir, nothing." - -"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding -your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old -fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." - -"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you -think that you can buy my self-respect?" - -"Oh, come!" I said. - -"How much?" said Voules. - -So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. -You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted -to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. -By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred -when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it -up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed -his clothes. - -He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. - -"Did you meet him?" I asked. - -"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. - -"George's twin-brother Alfred." - -"I didn't know George had a brother." - -"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in -infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his -uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George -has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, -Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a -brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it -_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." - -And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. - -They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at -him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite -certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. - -"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. - -"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. - -"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. - -"No one could tell you apart," I said. - -"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came -to a question of identification, there would be one way of -distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" - -"He's a dear old pal of mine." - -"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" - -"Every day last August." - -"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this -on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped -and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it -often when we were bathing together. - -"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. - -"No," I said. "Oh, no." - -"You would have noticed it if he had?" - -"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." - -"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able -to prove one's own identity." - -That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It -seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think -George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had -breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he -hadn't a care in the world. - -Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the -foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the -rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. - -"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" - -"What did you tell me?" - -"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for -George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the -trouble was. And then----" - -"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you -after knowing you for about two hours." - -"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became -him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she -told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a -pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down -for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." - -"And it's all right?" - -"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that -infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." - -"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and -is waiting for you." - -"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. - -We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a -boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. - -"It's my uncle," said George. - -A stout man came up the gangway. - -"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" - -"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is -Alfred Lattaker." - -"What's that?" - -"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" - -The stout man stared at him. - -"You're very like George," he said. - -"So everyone tells me." - -"And you're really Alfred?" - -"I am." - -"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." - -He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. - -At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I -should be glad to have the afternoon off." - -I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a -trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. - -I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was -waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. - -"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" - -I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up -about it, so I told her. - -"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." - -She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm -hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" -which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. - -"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings -and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." - -I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my -state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of -this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going -about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was -at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. - -I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the -facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the -trouble. - -Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. -There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind -had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a -fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. - -I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says -about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of -care? George's was like that. He looked green. - -"Finished with your uncle?" I said. - -He grinned a ghostly grin. - -"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there -isn't any money." - -"Explain yourself, old top," I said. - -"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the -trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When -the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he -went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last -remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while -and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he -invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner -or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, -which he has done. He's on his way now." - -"You let him go?" - -"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis -around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding -prison is to be Alfred." - -"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, -anyway," I said, to cheer him up. - -"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. -How can I marry her?" - -I pondered. - -"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit -of a mess." - -"You've guessed it," said poor old George. - -I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what -a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you -see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, -and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You -can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. -Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, -getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what -I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about -it. - -It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. -We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old -Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when -he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was -suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was -worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and -I, only not for the same reason. - -We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a -well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. - -"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Cöslin, equerry to His -Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the -Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." - -Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. - -"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You -remember?" - -"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I -suppose not?" - -"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" - -Stella shook hands with him. - -"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a -terrible thing to have happened!" - -"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained -consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." - -"That's good," said old Marshall. - -"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your -permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." - -"Mr. Who?" - -The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. - -"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." - -"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" - -"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his -services----" - -"I know. But what's he doing here?" - -"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." - -"Eh?" - -"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. - -"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like -now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." - -"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" - -George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. - -"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can -tell me by my mole." - -He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. - -The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. - -"I am sorry," he said. - -George didn't offer to console him, - -"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." - -"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." - -"What?" shouted George. - -"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, -saved my high-born master from the assassin." - -George sat down suddenly. - -"I don't understand," he said feebly. - -"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the -conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was -also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard -the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a -dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he -had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. -My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he -lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing -the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the -assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His -Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His -gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, -you should be proud of your brother, sir!" - -"Thanks," said George limply. - -"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search -the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." - -"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. - -It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his -head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. - -"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. - -He glared at George, who was staring at him. - -"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this -afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours -without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll -learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this -morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on -you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged -that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. -And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his -mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That -man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." - -George got up. - -"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." - -"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." - -"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had -rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only -remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the -conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." - -"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. - -"I am." - -"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. - -"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of -Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." - -"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the -girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's -chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. - -"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot -yourself." - -He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed -to think better of it and fell into the clinch. - -It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. - -"Voules, you're sacked," I said. - -"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman -of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get -your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." - -"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the -presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his -preserver." - -"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" - -There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a -smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and -Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. - -"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so -happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." - -"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that -way now." - -I coughed and he turned round. - -"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. - -"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." - -"Beautiful," said Stella. - -"The moon," I said. - -"Ripping," said George. - -"Lovely," said Stella. - -"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" - -George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. - -I popped. - - - - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - - -Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean -really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, -or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly -bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my -notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty -few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the -Yeardsley "Venus." - -To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I -shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and -myself. - -When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire -family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at -Oxford with me. - -I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was -a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just -as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture -catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played -"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month -later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence -Yeardsley, an artist. - -What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the -club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I -got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the -book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me -that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the -country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, -by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I -was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to -be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it -had done. - -This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue -sky, as it were. It ran like this: - - "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of - you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old - house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. - Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be - so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you - again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. - Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. - --Yours most sincerely, - - ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. - - "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! - - "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has - ever played on. - - "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says - it is better than St. Andrews. - - "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" - -Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a -head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite -easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. - -However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he -was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must -be something special. So I went. - -Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him -for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was -glad to see me. - -"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just -about at my last grip." - -"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. - -"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere -mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be -so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" - -"Pictures?" - -"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an -artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like -when one gives her her head?" - -I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my -time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the -period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had -had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though -pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had -never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after -marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere -sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to -old Bill. - -"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a -chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" - -"A few days." - -"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there -to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was -that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me -back with a lasso." - -I tried to point out the silver lining. - -"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links -near here." - -He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. - -"You don't mean honestly she said that?" - -"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." - -"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" - -"Well, wasn't it enough?" - -"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" - -"No, she forgot to tell me that." - -"It's the worst course in Great Britain." - -I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have -got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily -allowance of golf when I'm not in London. - -I took another whirl at the silver lining. - -"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's -good." - -"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch -cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended -it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve -the thing as a billiard-table." - -"But she said you said----" - -"Must have been pulling your leg." - -We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well -back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I -couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read -about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and -hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to -know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she -had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was -what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought -me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going -to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married -women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was -nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's -father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as -she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. - -"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot -of that sort stopping here, are there?" - -"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." - -As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure -appeared. - -"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind -struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady -Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. - -"Do you mean me?" I said. - -She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same -as in the old days. - -"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid -you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come -along in and have some tea." - - * * * * * - -Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and -then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt -when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you -hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." -Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have -preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on -Clarence. - -He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His -hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore -pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells -myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, -mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. -Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. - -"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said -Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. - -"Eh?" I said. - -"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" - -While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old -gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was -an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. -Elizabeth introduced us. - -"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel -positive I heard a cat mewing." - -"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." - -"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my -nerves!" - -"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. - -"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. - -That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think -they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to -pictures. - -We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At -least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of -picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and -then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I -was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a -valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the -first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with -any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the -pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. - -"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" - -They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. -Elizabeth grabbed the paper. - -"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of -Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" - -"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" - -"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I -noticed her eyes were sparkling. - -"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been -the 'Venus'!" - -Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. - -"The 'Venus'!" he cried. - -They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the -evening's chat had made quite a hit. - -Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth -showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley -"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed -impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing -it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the -foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I -was aware of its existence. - -She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley -was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were -rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry -effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when -Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent -towards me and said, "Reggie." - -And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You -know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it -then. - -"What-o?" I said nervously. - -"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." - -"Yes?" - -She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back -to me: - -"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the -world for me?" - -There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as -a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she -would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that -sort of thing, what? - -Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. -I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't -appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who -may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to -her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction -when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man -who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. - -I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." - -"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me -everlastingly grateful." - -"Yes," I said. - -"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago -Clarence was very fond of cats?" - -"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" - -"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." - -"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" - -"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants -to get rid of something." - -"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" - -"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. - -She looked up and caught my bulging eye. - -"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. - -"Not that I remember." - -"Well, come into the dining-room." - -We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. - -"There," she said. - -On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed -it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It -was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, -you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ -noticed it. - -"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. - -She nodded. - -"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to -a meal?" - -"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry -through all right." - -She jerked her head impatiently. - -"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." - -And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't -understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old -Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It -explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, -which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send -you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're -absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped -into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a -teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and -go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, -the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. - -And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. - -It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and -that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have -known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding -present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so -far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a -professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at -the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. -He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. -He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to -look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything -rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to -store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the -picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent -that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. - -"Now you see," she said. - -"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy -weather over a trifle?" - -"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in -church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next -to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" - -She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, -or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It -was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other -one. - -Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a -dash at it. - -"Er--'Venus'?" I said. - -Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the -evidence, I mean. - -"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see -you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. -When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have -been at your club." - -This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up -to me, and put her hand on my arm. - -"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you -understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let -us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit -and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after -day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that -with Clarence. Now you see?" - -"Yes, but----" - -"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" - -"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to -do?" - -"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" - -I looked at her. - -"You want me to----?" - -"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you -see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the -idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of -the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the -last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his -feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! -One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take -his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, -Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of -the frame, and it's done." - -"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, -but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in -fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" - -"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." - -"But if I'm caught?" - -"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of -the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." - -It sounded simple enough. - -"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" - -"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." - -"But----" - -She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. - -"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." - -She looked at me. - -"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, -don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow -me?" - -"All right," I said. "I'll do it." - -I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped -in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. -If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job -I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done -when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed -easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, -and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for -one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be -pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. -I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my -knife, and slunk downstairs. - -The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the -window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of -local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. -I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, -when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have -said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. -Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and -things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling -something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that -sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" - -I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill -kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. - -"What happened?" I said. - -"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I -came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a -chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I -just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think -you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" - -"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she -had told you." - -"You don't mean----" - -"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." - -"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about -repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I -hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to -do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after -all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm -sorry." - -"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was -still on. - -"Are you feeling better now?" - -"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." - -"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this -job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made -a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on -the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." - -"Heads." - -"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the -light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." - -It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and -the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old -Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, -collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. - -"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture -of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the -thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him -a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of -Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." - -We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our -drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and -shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness -of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good -by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days -when we used to brew in my study at school. - -We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and -gripped my arm. - -"I heard something," he said. - -I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over -the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy -footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. - -"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. - -There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively -chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would -have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't -really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and -believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, -a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one -jump. - -"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." - -I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the -knife. We crept downstairs. - -"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. - -"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" - -"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. - -Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. - -Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. -And then we pulled up sharp, staring. - -The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the -near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," -holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, -was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He -had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he -stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down -in a heap together. The candle went out. - -"What on earth?" said Bill. - -I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most -fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly -collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I -could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, -it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at -me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I -saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But -we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped -short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old -Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. - -"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. -It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down -to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" - -It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among -those present. - -"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. - -"He's in bed," I said. - -"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself -on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who -sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." - -He gave a gulp. - -"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you -understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two -years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It -was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then -Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You -cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The -thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the -picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. -And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I -could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from -a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never -suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals -who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. -I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down -here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this -time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," -he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" - -I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this -time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him -straight instead of breaking it by degrees. - -"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite -understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort -of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" - -I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, -staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling -at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. - -"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have -taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My -Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, -but he had to know the truth. - -"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." - -He started, poor old chap. - -"Eh? What do you mean?" - -"They _did_ take your Venus." - -"But I have it here." - -I shook my head. - -"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. - -He jumped at it and straightened it out. - -"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own -picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can -you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" - -And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! - - * * * * * - -Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled -down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was -my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's -fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected -to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive -silence for a bit. - -"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing -Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" - -"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." - -"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving -Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to -London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how -about it?" - - - - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - -Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time -during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought -that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of -being baffled. - -Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages -for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's -more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who -was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; -philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely -on him at every turn. - -So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't -hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. - -The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was -in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the -dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower -ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and -generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first -impression was that it was some horrid dream. - -Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from -New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once -that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. -Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a -walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He -was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of -his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He -told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and -wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. - -He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a -month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three -hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there -was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in -which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to -young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, -American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things -once. It began: - - Be! - Be! - The past is dead. - To-morrow is not born. - Be to-day! - To-day! - Be with every nerve, - With every muscle, - With every drop of your red blood! - Be! - -It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of -scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, -with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said -they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four -in the afternoon for over a month. - -As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he -had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had -been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his -position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the -money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem -recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all -its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the -mantelpiece. - -And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! - -"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or -something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" - -I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped -for the bell. - -Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me -how he does it. - -"Tea, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression -of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky -was surging round with his beastly letter again. - -"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" - -"Read it!" - -"I can't. I haven't had my tea." - -"Well, listen then." - -"Who's it from?" - -"My aunt." - -At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: - -"So what on earth am I to do?" - -Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering -over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. - -"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. -Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want -your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, -and Rocky started again: - - "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a - long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been - very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made - up my mind to do now." - -"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" - -"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes -cleared at a later point in the communication." - -"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. - -"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. - - "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see - for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I - fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I - am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." - -"Sad, Jeeves, what?" - -"Extremely, sir." - -"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last -Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself -that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist -that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a -fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's -been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." - -"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of -the deer,' Jeeves?" - -"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." - -"Carry on, Rocky, dear -boy." - - "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the - city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly - thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the - Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a - certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to - enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." - -"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do -in ten years." - - "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now - I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I - have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a - firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you - quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you - live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. - I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as - I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic - life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant - supper parties. - - "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me - letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all - you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may - enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying - for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no - detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, - - "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." - -"What about it?" said Rocky. - -"What about it?" I said. - -"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" - -It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude -of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the -right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind -it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here -the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar -plexus. It amazed me. - -"Aren't you bucked?" I said. - -"Bucked!" - -"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider -this pretty soft for you." - -He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to -talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer -chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, -and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an -hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty -straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the -place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a -publicity agent for the old metrop.! - -"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have -to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole -of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to -mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. -Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because -they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I -loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got -to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral -delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than -a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" - -I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in -for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of -the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. - -"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to -share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars -and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I -suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a -ghastly notion!" - -I was shocked, absolutely shocked. - -"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. - -"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" - -"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by -the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" - -"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" - -"Three." - -"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear -the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." - -"And shirts?" - -"Four dozen, sir." - -"And white ties?" - -"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely -filled with our white ties, sir." - -I turned to Rocky. - -"You see?" - -The chappie writhed like an electric fan. - -"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on -earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't -get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put -on an old sweater?" - -I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his -finest feelings. - -"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. - -"That's what I want to know." - -"You might write and explain to your aunt." - -"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid -leaps and cut me out of her will." - -I saw his point. - -"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. - -Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. - -"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is -obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his -possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters -relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be -accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of -remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party -to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes -reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful -report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his -imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." - -Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked -at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as -I have, and he isn't on to his curves. - -"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the -start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the -idea?" - -"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. -All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you -and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. -That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a -startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. - -"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart -sort of man, a man who would notice things." - -"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." - -"But would he?" - -"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" - -For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost -smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and -for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. - -"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have -already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening -out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." - -"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She -wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, -Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will -show you the way." - -Jeeves shook his head. - -"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The -place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." - -"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." - -It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans -happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of -the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything -went absolutely right from the start. - -Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, -and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. -I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table -on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a -fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so -nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he -was making notes in a small book. - -As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond -of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was -perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his -pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to -death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to -be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it -was full of life. - -But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck -anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, -loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired -feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: - - "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. - I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The - cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's - everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, - - "BERTIE. - - "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" - -Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't -have got the confounded thing on to the second page. - -Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: - - "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving - me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems - more wonderful every day. - - "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are - magnificent!" - -Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an -authority. - - "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other - night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new - place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie - Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie - Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks - did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was - there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The - show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. - - "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" - -And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic -temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie -who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a -punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's -no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in -and congratulated him. - -"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell -you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." - -"It's just a knack, sir." - -"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, -what?" - -"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. - -And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to -say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month -after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old -bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence -like a bomb. - -It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices -that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It -was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. - -"Miss Rockmetteller!" - -And in came a large, solid female. - -The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt -much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd -come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that -it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I -stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an -attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should -have been rallying round the young master, it was now. - -Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, -except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as -a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if -put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly -regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor -old Rocky had been pulling on her. - -"Good afternoon," I managed to say. - -"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" - -"Er--no." - -"Mr. Fred Stone?" - -"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie -Wooster." - -She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean -nothing in her life. - -"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" - -She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I -couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. - -There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the -respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak -without having been spoken to. - -"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party -in the afternoon." - -"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he -say when he would be back?" - -"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in -returning." - -He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer -her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It -made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended -to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, -has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails -to make my spine curl. - -"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of -Rockmetteller's?" - -"Oh, yes, rather!" - -She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. - -"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your -own!" - -I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the -power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing -host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, -mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered -my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously -looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come -to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. - -At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being -about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old -stand-by. - -"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. - -"Tea?" - -She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. - -"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit -of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you -know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." - -I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the -evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. - -"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" - -I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve -centres had had the deuce of a shock. - -"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put -that into her head?" - -Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. - -"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my -suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from -this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good -central residence in the city." - -I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. - -"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an -intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about -here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." - -"Yes, sir." - -"It's pretty rotten, you know." - -"Most disturbing, sir." - -"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got -to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the -tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come -up by the next train." - -"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message -and dispatching it by the lift attendant." - -"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" - -"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. -Thank you." - -I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still -bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a -hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There -was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I -suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. - -"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful -silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. - -"What is a surprise?" - -"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." - -She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. - -"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. - -Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. - -"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" - -Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad -to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for -one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool -about with I felt happier. - -"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. - -It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal -more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her -out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. - -"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me -to drink this stuff?" - -"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." - -"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" - -"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." - -"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" - -I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way -that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was -brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had -had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. - -Conversation languished again after that. - -Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you -can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, -especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. - -"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. - -"At which hotel?" - -"The hotel you're staying at." - -"I am not staying at an hotel." - -"Stopping with friends--what?" - -"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." - -I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. - -"What! Here?" I gurgled. - -"Certainly! Where else should I go?" - -The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't -see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't -Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because -she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in -the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock -and produce some results when she spoke again. - -"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I -wish to lie down." - -"Your nephew's man-servant?" - -"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile -ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish -to be alone with me when he returns." - -I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for -me. I crept into Jeeves's den. - -"Jeeves!" I whispered. - -"Sir?" - -"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." - -"Very good, sir." - -"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, -and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and -keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, -and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants -you to prepare her bed." - -He looked wounded. - -"It is hardly my place, sir----" - -"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to -that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and -have to go to an hotel, what?" - -"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for -clothes?" - -"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag -when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" - -"I will endeavour to do so, sir." - -"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd -where I am when he gets here." - -"Very good, sir." - -I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. -The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive -chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. - -"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. - -"Good-bye, sir." - -And I staggered out. - - * * * * * - -You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher -Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he -has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, -you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more -sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's -misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. - -As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white -tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole -squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to -look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural -phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, -there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own -clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the -morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I -mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful -privations the poor have to stick. - -I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. -Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't -make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what -somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. - -I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but -nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go -on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the -hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've -felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as -if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I -should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang -I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end -of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. - -It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. - -"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" - -"Where are you speaking from?" - -"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a -fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a -friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life -written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and -I'm nearly crazy." - -"Tell me all, old top," I said. - -"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the -river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of -thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was -just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when -about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There -are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder -than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram -arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of -absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two -miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top -of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. -And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of -yours." - -I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky -was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. - -"You'll ruin them!" - -"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles -seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to -get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're -about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. -I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't -breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out -and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by -now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure -Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I -dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could -I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even -to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She -keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's -simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting -two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to -think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me -into it." - -"Me! What do you mean?" - -"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested -leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that -did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me -about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where -she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of -New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled -herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some -miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! -It's got to end!" - -"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" - -"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of -help that is!" - -"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is -for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a -lot of money." - -"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" - -"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying -all the expenses now, isn't she?" - -"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the -lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no -necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's -simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've -examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver -lining it's some little dissembler!" - -"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what -I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get -back to the flat." - -"Don't come near the flat." - -"But it's my own flat." - -"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you -did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said -she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless -and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget -it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. -Good-bye." - - * * * * * - -Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated -noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. - -"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your -personal belongings." - -He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. - -"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" - -"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is -a remarkably alert lady." - -"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" - -"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my -notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic -conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour -to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." - -"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." - -"We must hope for the best, sir." - -"Can't you think of anything to do?" - -"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far -without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the -light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." - -"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" - -"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the -tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case -and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." - -"You understate it, Jeeves." - -He gazed meditatively out of the window. - -"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine -who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are -much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great -city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever -the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and -spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has -broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable -her to gratify this desire." - -"I love to have these little chats with you about your female -relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me -down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got -to do with my trouble." - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on -the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I -should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." - -Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. - - * * * * * - -I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a -habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit -them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and -sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, -and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in -it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you -might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of -Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at -least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. -What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets -once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. - -New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up -just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks -began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at -Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except -the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the -ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to -see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled -for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for -myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under -the strain. - -It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took -it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to -surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless -spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I -had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the -impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York -night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a -cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the -shutters. - -The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that -I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on -the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort -of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the -chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without -disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the -proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had -helped a bit. - -For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his -aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in -again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were -something the management ought to be complained to about. - -"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, -"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good -turn if you asked me?" - -"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. - -"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest -of the evening." - -Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. - -"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" - -"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to -divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that -for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't -understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A -few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know -fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt -Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect -has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to -be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a -nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the -love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." - -I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was -sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had -lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore -Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about -rather unpleasant things. - -"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. - -"I have." - -There was something in her eye that seemed to say: - -"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" - -"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. - -And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, -bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and -then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this -wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light -of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had -gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged -home with ropes. - -It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. - -"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" - -I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't -anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with -the woman, so I went along. - -Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the -feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A -massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, -though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his -best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. - -I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his -lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something -told me that I was about to need him. - -The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the -decanter. - -"Say when, Bertie." - -"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. - -I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye -of one who sees it coming. - -"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it -there. - -"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see -a young man going to perdition!" - -Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the -whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. - -"Eh?" he said, blinking. - -The aunt proceeded. - -"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But -now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder -at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you -into contact with this wicked city." - -I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a -look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his -feelings. - -"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go -to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing -Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." - -"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. - -You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and -you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to -understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. -I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off -to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front -of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. - -The aunt gave me a withering up and down. - -"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp -having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing -men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would -have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. -He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque -phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I -first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How -often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! - -"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; -so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked -your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little -intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he -did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square -Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a -seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I -discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle -of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many -people, so I remained." - -She gulped. - -"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. -Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the -sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I -feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in -a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me -New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of -sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people -should be in bed. - -"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to -drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more -sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient -revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed -right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could -have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you -must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen -that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you -to dance in those places of wickedness?" - -Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. - -"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." - -"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is -not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. -You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find -that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour -and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, -Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the -struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" - -I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused -dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him -the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being -cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let -go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. - -"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" - -"Yes." - -"Not to live in the country?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller." - -"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New -York?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there -can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will -you--for my sake?" - -Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement -from that table. - -"I will!" he said. - - * * * * * - -"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying -in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just -come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour -before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was -the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like -home--what?" - -"Very true, sir." - -"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -I lit another cigarette. - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were -baffled." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? -It was pure genius!" - -"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I -was thinking of my aunt, sir." - -"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" - -"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks -coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always -found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her -mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might -prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." - -I was stunned by the man's resource. - -"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, -Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat -a lot of fish, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born -that way there's no use worrying." - -"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I -should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you -a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the -red domino pattern instead, sir." - -"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/8164-8.txt~ b/old/8164-8.txt~ deleted file mode 100644 index 0a7de27..0000000 --- a/old/8164-8.txt~ +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7297 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: My Man Jeeves - -Author: P. G. Wodehouse - -Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] -Release Date: May, 2005 -[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] -Last updated: August 30, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team - - - - - - - - - - -MY MAN JEEVES - - - - -BY P. G. WODEHOUSE - -1919 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - -ABSENT TREATMENT - -HELPING FREDDIE - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - - -Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. -Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's -like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements -at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know -the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train -for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to -think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're -right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of -omniscience. - -As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond -Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I -felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address -of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the -hour. - -"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one -of Mr. Byng's." - -"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." - -"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." - -"Unsuitable for you, sir." - -Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came -home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I -nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a -music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in -absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and -that's all there is to it. - -But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, -though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows -everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." -I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, -red-hot tabasco. - -"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good -turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on -Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" - -He shook his head. - -"I'd rather not, sir." - -"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." - -"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second -place is what the stable is after." - -Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know -anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till -he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and -nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. - -"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. -From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." - -"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." - -And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean -would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, -don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with -Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, -when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to -ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. - -"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. - -I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my -cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square -way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I -left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to -stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got -the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound -scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and -having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out -to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm -bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody -was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going -on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced -me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before -I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses -up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly -around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy -coves. - -Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, -but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines -with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the -game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the -thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people -come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until -you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a -chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture -for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got -a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the -advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived -from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in -the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's -apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had -made quite an indecently large stack out of it. - -Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty -soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle -was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was -fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, -however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had -no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the -way the above Worple used to harry him. - -Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't -think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to -chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and -work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with -him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what -Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom -of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too -beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an -artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by -using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to -cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. - -He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple -was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the -American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. -When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he -just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start -being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was -what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called -_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More -American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that -he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds -gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let -him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked -with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so -these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the -time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the -frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when -broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. - -To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of -extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that -Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction -on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I -should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. - -So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl -in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancée, Miss -Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the -one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke -were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" - -The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking -anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but -can't think what the deuce to do with the body. - -"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you -might suggest a way of breaking it to him." - -Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a -way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were -the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it -yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me -as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man -isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of -feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, -little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was -nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those -innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your -system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out -to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to -tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, -you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and -dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I -felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. - -"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said -to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." - -Corky declined to cheer up. - -"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. -That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of -principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had -gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he -would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." - -I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. - -"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance -without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" - -"But how can I work it that way?" - -I saw his point. That was the catch. - -"There's only one thing to do," I said. - -"What's that?" - -"Leave it to Jeeves." - -And I rang the bell. - -"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy -things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very -seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies -in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in -a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they -want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he -says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite -bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh -of animals slain in anger and pie. - -The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful -attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost -child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him -that gave me confidence. - -Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye -gleams with the light of pure intelligence. - -"Jeeves, we want your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. - -"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way -by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting -on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, try to think of something." - -"I have thought of something already, sir." - -"You have!" - -"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may -seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial -outlay." - -"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an -idea, but it's going to cost a bit." - -Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the -whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting -gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. - -"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only -too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." - -"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's -attachment to ornithology." - -"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" - -"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite -unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the -flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. -Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I -have mentioned." - -"Oh! Well?" - -"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let -us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it -to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, -sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to -eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the -same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy -to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in -which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one -to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired -result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." - -I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage -when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had -betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me -down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to -hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's -brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. - -"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -The girl made an objection. - -"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even -write good letters." - -"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the -direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of -our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will -receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose -your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both -feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency -to kick like a steer." - -I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family -when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the -recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and -the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it -is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but -uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, -legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. - -But Jeeves had a solution, of course. - -"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious -author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for -a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should -appear on the title page." - -"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred -dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand -words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different -names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. -I'll get after him right away." - -"Fine!" - -"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent -fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number -now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while -a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real -work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the -old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny -book came along. - -I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The -Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was -there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang -at the door and the parcel was delivered. - -It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some -species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened -a copy at random. - -"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as -you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, -carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are -older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful -book--_American Birds_." - -You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later -there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed -cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap -who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. -I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the -world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a -certain disposition towards chumminess in him. - -"It's a cert!" I said. - -"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. - -And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to -tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so -dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. -Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author -of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would -be delighted to make her acquaintance. - -Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had -invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for -several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been -wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out -right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop -into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel -inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by -herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out -telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. - -"Well, well, well, what?" I said. - -"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" - -"Corky around?" - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" - -"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." - -It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a -kind of thingummy, you know. - -"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" - -"A row?" - -"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both -sides--er--and all that sort of thing." - -"Why, whatever makes you think that?" - -"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually -dined with him before you went to the theatre." - -"I've left the stage now." - -Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time -I had been away. - -"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" - -"Yes." - -"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." - -"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is -a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." - -I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of -healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he -looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. - -"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of -Bruce's, Alexander." - -The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from -hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. - -"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you -would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this -playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I -noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be -introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. -Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the -pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you -dined?" - -I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I -wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. - -When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I -called him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid -of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of -news for you." - -He came back with a tray and a long glass. - -"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." - -"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." - -"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You -remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by -writing the book on birds?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." - -He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. - -"That was always a development to be feared, sir." - -"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" - -"It crossed my mind as a possibility." - -"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" - -"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." - -Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer -frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to -it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a -cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the -same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky -again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of -soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few -months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was -beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather -up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the -healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on -it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple -had presented her husband with a son and heir. - -I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to -touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled -over. Absolutely. It was the limit. - -I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to -Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and -then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the -touch. I gave it him in waves. - -But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it -was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this -just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I -pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his -bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I -bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the -studio. - -I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting -away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle -age, holding a baby. - -A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. - -"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. - -Corky looked over his shoulder. - -"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will -be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby -and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. - -"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, please." - -"Good afternoon." - -"Good afternoon." - -Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and -began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for -granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as -awkward as it might have been. - -"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The -portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes -the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. -If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted -with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a -portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in -and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it -rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into -the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit -me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't -refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my -allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I -suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a -patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted -him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front -page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are -moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist -Beans Baby With Axe.'" - -I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was -too deep for words. - -I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't -seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm -bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally -of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. - -But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. - -"Bertie." - -"Halloa?" - -"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" - -"Nothing special." - -"You couldn't come down here, could you?" - -"What's the trouble? Anything up?" - -"I've finished the portrait." - -"Good boy! Stout work!" - -"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it -doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's -coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but -I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" - -I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The -sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. - -"You think he'll cut up rough?" - -"He may." - -I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the -restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too -easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. - -"I'll come," I said. - -"Good!" - -"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" - -"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves -is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" - -"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of -yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a -den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." - -"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang -for Jeeves, and explained the situation. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. - -We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up -in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. - -"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, -tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" - -The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good -look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I -went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite -so bad from there. - -"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. - -I hesitated a bit. - -"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a -moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I -remember rightly?" - -"As ugly as that?" - -I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. - -"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." - -Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort -of way. He groaned. - -"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned -thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked -that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of -the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put -the child's soul on canvas." - -"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how -he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" - -"I doubt it, sir." - -"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" - -"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. - -"I don't see how one could help noticing." - -"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. -But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." - -"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in -the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't -you think so, Jeeves?" - -"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." - -Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle -came in. - -For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy -shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't -think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his -stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't -notice him. - -"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really -finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a -wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" - -And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he -rocked back on his heels. - -"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the -scaliest silences I've ever run up against. - -"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about -sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. - -I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. - -"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. - -"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far -away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on -Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk -of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and -my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a -house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a -competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured -supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail -and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this -foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for -idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report -at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and -start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you -should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another -cent--not another--Boosh!" - -Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out -of the bombproof shelter. - -"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. - -Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was -a hunted look in his eye. - -"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. - -"What are you going to do?" - -"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You -heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." - -I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about -the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It -was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just -been sentenced to twenty years in quod. - -And then a soothing voice broke the silence. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" - -It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at -the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the -shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by -saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves -was there. - -"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby -Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? -He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite -saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him -use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which -he promoted." - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" - -"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects -a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he -did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of -Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. -It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a -billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial -fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage -for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks -into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always -a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In -the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a -coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable -one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a -likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly -consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. -Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been -for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold -and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly -popular." - -Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking -noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. - -And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. - -"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor -blighter was hysterical. - -He began to stagger about all over the floor. - -"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! -You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on -Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I -feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the -_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the -other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me -anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. -Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded -hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" - -Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal -muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to -smiling. - -"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the -series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" - -Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. -Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. - -"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished -looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an -optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with -Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest -before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the -swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for -instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the -eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the -neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" - -"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, -sir. Extremely diverting." - -"They have made a big hit, you know." - -"I anticipated it, sir." - -I leaned back against the pillows. - -"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a -commission on these things." - -"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has -been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." - -"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"But I rather fancy myself in it." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"Oh, all right, have it your own way." - -"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is -always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? - - - - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - - -I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's -Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that -it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and -more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up -behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. -It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy -matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned -up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. - -It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from -under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of -fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had -asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you -know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming -a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much -mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's -judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when -he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like -a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in -the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who -was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but -the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John -Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by -another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after -a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how -things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of -manly and independent. - -Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for -breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and -sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and -opened the door an inch. - -"What ho without there!" - -"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. - -"Eh?" - -"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." - -"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for -I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well -there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be -when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" - -"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean -liner at an early hour this morning." - -This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had -arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at -some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a -foreign shore considerably before eight. - -"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" - -"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." - -"Is she alone?" - -"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his -lordship would be her ladyship's son." - -"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." - -"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." - -"Then lead me to it." - -While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern -could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and -was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. - -"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left -London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on -social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." - -"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" - -"Eh?" - -"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" - -It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather -a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work -the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. - -"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. -Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" - -"Too ornate, sir." - -"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." - -"Unsuitable, sir." - -"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" - -"Very good, sir." - -Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was -firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into -the sitting-room. - -"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" - -"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I -think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." - -Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed -female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet -from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as -if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing -arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging -eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about -fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb -a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and -had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say -how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would -wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. - -Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. -He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered -down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't -bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the -struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any -eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. - -"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a -long stay in America?" - -"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure -and call on you." - -I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to -come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, -when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie -from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you -that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only -married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, -you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I -simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find -that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to -make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked -America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my -natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone -to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I -braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the -assemblage. - -"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be -of assistance to us." - -"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" - -"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little -while." - -I didn't get this for a moment. - -"Put him up? For my clubs?" - -"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty -darling?" - -Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. - -"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. - -"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have -him to live with you while I am away." - -These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply -didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave -Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling -the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on -me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't -you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board -at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle -into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, -rolling placidly over me, as it were. - -There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. - -"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to -Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in -America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, -visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I -am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, -_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write -a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend -more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, -but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my -dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ -after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with -me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall -have to pick him up on my return." - -From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the -breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I -felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of -putting a stop to this woman. - -"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. -Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear -Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the -country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He -will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as -if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped -chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. -"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give -him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you -so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your -help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before -my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my -information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and -take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. -Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." - -They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. - -"Jeeves! What about it?" - -"Sir?" - -"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the -dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." - -"Pill, sir?" - -"The excrescence." - -"I beg your pardon, sir?" - -I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was -as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I -understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to -get his own back. - -"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said -coldly. - -"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." - -I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any -sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a -moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he -didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I -was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! - -But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a -pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the -more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty -out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt -Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or -later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to -get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a -stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the -fellow up and make the best of it. - -About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel -of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw -it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough -in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more -cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, -and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch -with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with -excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, -the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost -forgotten blighted Motty's existence. - -I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't -till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of -Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. - -It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still -there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after -seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. - -Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the -chappie's manner that he was still upset. - -"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and -what-not. - -"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." - -"Not returned? What do you mean?" - -"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, -went out again." - -At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of -scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the -woodwork. Then a sort of thud. - -"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He went out and came back again. - -"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able -to carry him in." - -"Carry him in?" - -"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." - -I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up -outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. - -"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. -"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" - -"Sir?" - -"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or -something. Call up a doctor!" - -"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his -lordship's legs, while I----" - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" - -"I am inclined to think so, sir." - -And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't -mistake it. Motty was under the surface. - -It was the deuce of a shock. - -"You never can tell, Jeeves!" - -"Very seldom, sir." - -"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" - -"It would seem so, sir." - -"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette -and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It -seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. - -Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went -into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a -wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading -Gingery stories. - -"What ho!" I said. - -"What ho!" said Motty. - -"What ho! What ho!" - -"What ho! What ho! What ho!" - -After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. - -"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. - -"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, -that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most -frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy -dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own -invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one -of the ones!" - -I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and -sucked his stick the day before. - -"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I -said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. -But he wouldn't have it, at any price. - -"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too -much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm -going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see -me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on -the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the -defect." - -"But I say, you know, what about me?" - -"What about you?" - -"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I -mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in -the soup somewhat." - -"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old -thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to -yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great -city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so -bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my -eyes open and collect impressions." - -I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. - -"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if -my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But -duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean -to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with -life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" - -Put like that, it did seem reasonable. - -"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in -the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've -been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The -only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught -sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about -it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up -a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only -chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old -sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent -chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to -discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" - - * * * * * - -I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close -to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a -damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was -being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye -he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him -along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful -sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand -the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I -mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I -think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled -eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing -are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all -over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when -you want to sit still and digest. - -Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made -up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about -with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once -when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had -to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ -for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie -peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. - -In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about -four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over -about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. -I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no -denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of -Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded -Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of -the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to -get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and -sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and -putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber -next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose -weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest -word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. - -And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man -was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't -rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the -pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. - -"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" - -"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. - -"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the -principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha -is!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well, then." - -I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. - -"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping -with this blighter?" - -"No, sir." - -And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, -don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that -Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much -admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he -left me flat. - -It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing -pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. -This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of -town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. -I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the -evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who -frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. -That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The -neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian -dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere -wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a -collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song -when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked -peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was -extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of -soothing. - -The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place -which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty -there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch -on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared -hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an -extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped -backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall -just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" - -"That would be Rollo, sir." - -"Eh?" - -"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come -in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet -settled down." - -"Who the deuce is Rollo?" - -"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, -and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will -go in and switch on the light." - -There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the -sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without -a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such -that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down -as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his -paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have -been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all -worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me -where he had left off. - -"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally -quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." - -"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." - -"No, sir." - -"Well, what am I to do?" - -"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will -learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." - -"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I -intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that -one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all -right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and -stop with Mr. Todd in the country." - -"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" - -"No." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." - -"Yes, sir." - - * * * * * - -As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I -went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the -wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing -goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a -few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New -York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. -The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't -get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you -have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I -thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they -have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I -went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked -round cautiously for Rollo. - -"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" - -"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the -porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal -on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." - -I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had -misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a -lot of intelligence in him. - -"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Do you expect him back to dinner?" - -"No, sir." - -"Where is he?" - -"In prison, sir." - -Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? -That's how I felt then. - -"In prison!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You don't mean--in prison?" - -"Yes, sir." - -I lowered myself into a chair. - -"Why?" I said. - -"He assaulted a constable, sir." - -"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" - -"Yes, sir." - -I digested this. - -"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" - -"Sir?" - -"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" - -"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." - -"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." - -"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out -by then." - -"But supposing it hasn't?" - -"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." - -"How?" - -"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that -his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." - -"Why Boston?" - -"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." - -"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." - -"I fancy so, sir." - -"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this -hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a -sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." - -"Exactly, sir." - -The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze -seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what -the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have -pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I -reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a -small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick -at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. -Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. -Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that -I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty -existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was -still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, -but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was -tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There -was a kind of grieved look in his eye. - -And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't -been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping -along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea -and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement -that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few -garments round me and went in. - -There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as -ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she -had done the first time. - -"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" - -"I have got back." - -There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had -swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she -probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that -I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a -fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've -engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. - -"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" - -"I have not yet breakfasted." - -"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or -something?" - -"No, thank you." - -She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for -the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. - -"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." - -"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" - -"Extremely, thank you." - -"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old -Grand Canyon, and what-not?" - -"I saw a great deal." - -There was another slightly _frappé_ silence. Jeeves floated -silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. - -"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" - -I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. - -"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." - -"You were his constant companion, then?" - -"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you -know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of -lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred -concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually -played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing -sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to -Boston." - -"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" - -"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where -you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, -don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. -Yes, Motty went off to Boston." - -"You're sure he went to Boston?" - -"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in -the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't -change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" - -"No, sir." - -"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." - -"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went -yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material -for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, -seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" - -I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has -to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like -this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar -and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, -because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my -system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling -it up, and now it came out with a rush: - -"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! -So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, -thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to -you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to -the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" - -I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of -Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the -hatchet against my return. - -"You deliberately----" - -Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: - -"If I might explain, your ladyship." - -Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized -on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't -do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. - -"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and -that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when -his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that -his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had -given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a -friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till -your ladyship informed him." - -Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. - -"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is -so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, -so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away -for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that -his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, -but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." - -"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore -went to prison voluntarily?" - -"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's -parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently -heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow -your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's -book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his -lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was -doing so little to help." - -"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. - -"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of -the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one -night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." - -Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I -could see her struggling with the thing. - -"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose -that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own -volition than that he committed some breach of the law which -necessitated his arrest?" - -Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. - -"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I -should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his -pure, fine spirit." - -"Absolutely!" I said. - -"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. - -I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. - -"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that -blighter into riotous living." - -"I fancy you are right, sir." - -I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, -by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that -this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I -hesitated. Then I made up my mind. - -"Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"That pink tie!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Burn it!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"And, Jeeves!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" - -"Thank you very much, sir." - -I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and -all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the -novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and -decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other -things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would -like?" - -"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." - -"Fifty dollars?" - -"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his -lordship." - -"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" - -"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship -was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable -method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship -was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me -for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering -him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the -eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." - -I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. - -"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, -you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" - -"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. - - - - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - - -Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup -of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting -out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do -if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad -now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There -used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak -him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered -him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's -got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to -look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry -eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! - -The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot -it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. - -I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. -And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself -on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances -knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, -of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. - -It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to -the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink -he said: - -"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were -out." - -"Oh?" I said. - -"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." - -"What, pipped?" - -"He gave that impression, sir." - -I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a -matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss -freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained -between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on -anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You -see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this -had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, -and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval -till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while -there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is -absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was -getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my -costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the -time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my -pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim -on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old -bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. - -"He said that he would call again later, sir." - -"Something must be up, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a -good deal, so I chucked it. - -"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on -the _Carmantic_." - -"Yes?" - -"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." - -This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one -knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species -of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my -arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I -rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in -fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so -we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort -in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and -what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily -gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though -we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him -was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the -strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. - -"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? -Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who -married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." - -Jeeves knows everything. - -"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Leave any money?" - -"No, sir." - -I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the -rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I -mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but -the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy -old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was -notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American -chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left -him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old -duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was -hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. -He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on -principle. - -At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. - -"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky -came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. - -"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. -Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the -trouble, Bicky?" - -"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." - -"Say on, old lad!" - -"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -Bicky seemed a bit surprised. - -"Jeeves seems to know everything." - -"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." - -"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out -of the hole I'm in." - -Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the -table. - -"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you -to rally round." - -"Very good, sir." - -Bicky looked a bit doubtful. - -"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit -private and all that." - -"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it -already. Don't you, Jeeves?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. - -"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact -that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York -instead of in Colorado?" - -Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. - -"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" - -"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He -informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on -the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." - -Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. - -"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try -to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I -was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a -remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of -the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they -call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't -fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, -and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the -scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that -remittance." - -"I get you absolutely, dear boy." - -"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, -so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I -cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business -wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back -that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm -doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you -know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" - -"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was -coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always -given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I -can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." - -"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. - -"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you -prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" - -"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." - -"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. -Bickersteth----" - -"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, -and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast -that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of -course." - -"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this -flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was -the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I -was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be -residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would -occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this -answer satisfactorily, sir." - -Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed -sort of way. - -"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace -on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. -Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. -Will that meet the situation, sir?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Thank you, sir." - -Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. - -"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it -is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you -ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the -back!" - - * * * * * - -I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present -when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean -liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much -after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was -leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. -It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish -he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in -general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down -below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out -and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could -make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York -to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of -London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy -said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and -the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. - -"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir?" - -"That'll be him at the door now." - -Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy -crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. - -"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of -sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must -have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of -Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. -Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." - -Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. - -"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" - -"Absolutely." - -"It must be terribly expensive." - -"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." - -He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at -it to restore his tissues, and nodded. - -"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight -shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look -round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how -much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" - -"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." - -"What! Forty pounds a month!" - -I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the -scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was -thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew -of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, -for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as -an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most -pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. - -"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York -often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you -wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. -Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, -when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite -different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in -commercial circles as quite the nib!" - -"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" - -"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and -Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. -"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads -elsewhere." - -Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. - -"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" - -"He's upstairs now, having some tea." - -"What does he think of it all?" - -"He's absolutely rattled." - -"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See -you later." - -"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." - -He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the -club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and -going down the other. - -It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for -dinner. - -"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering -about the place. "Gone out?" - -"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. -Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective -was Grant's Tomb." - -"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are -going--what?" - -"Sir?" - -"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." - -"Not altogether, sir." - -"What's his trouble now?" - -"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth -and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, -sir." - -"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in -business, and all that sort of thing?" - -"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. -Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth -is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary -assistance." - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." - -"Somewhat disturbing, sir." - -"I never expected anything like this!" - -"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." - -"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." - -My heart bled for Bicky. - -"We must do something, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Can you think of anything?" - -"Not at the moment, sir." - -"There must be something we can do." - -"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I -mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there -is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the -occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his -title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting -failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another -name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have -generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No -doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's -difficulty, sir." - -"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" - -"I will spare no pains, sir." - -I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was -when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a -dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time -than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill -of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. - -When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, -hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette -hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare -in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the -newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." - -"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. - -He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact -that it hadn't anything in it. - -"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. - -He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. - -"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money -was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been -reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can -make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars -and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a -hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every -day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep -of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every -seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. -Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have -more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep -in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd -make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get -quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair -at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no -good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." - -"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." - -"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." - -That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend -money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it -to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift -the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled -tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the -second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along -Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my -neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've -simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a -hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight -and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his -uppers, not taking any at any price. - -"Well, there's only one hope, then." - -"What's that?" - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of -shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting -in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you -look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little -uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. -He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves -now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my -tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" - -"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have -found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a -liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's -potentialities as a source of revenue." - -Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, -mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, -rather like a gargle. - -"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of -inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of -regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say -so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." - -Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't -get it myself. - -"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" - -"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a -prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you -are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent -personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might -know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two -dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including -handshake, to his grace." - -Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. - -"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid -cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" - -"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for -bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave -her social standing among the neighbours." - -Bicky wavered. - -"If you think it could be done----" - -"I feel convinced of it, sir." - -"What do you think, Bertie?" - -"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." - -"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." - -And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. - -Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making -proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock -Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays -I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market -opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened -quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest -the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the -week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper -down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in -sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of -light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money -down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, -owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to -kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me -the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things -take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as -a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. - -The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it -hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of -his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever -met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room -one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was -something doing. - -"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" - -"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." - -"Sir?" - -"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." - -"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." - -"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" - -"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." - -I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. - -"Birdsburg?" - -"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." - -"How did you get them?" - -"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be -absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into -conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. -I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his -buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for -Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a -gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the -auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to -inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming -a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if -Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was -purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at -some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. -It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and -pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had -shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to -broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I -have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention -shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." - -I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. - -"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" - -"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms -finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." - -I thought a bit. - -"Payable in advance?" - -"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not -successful." - -"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. -Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect -anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" - -"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not -bright." - -"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some -money." - -"Yes, sir." - -"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Right-o!" - -"Very good, sir." - -When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told -him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the -sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic -section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. - -"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? -I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you -know." - -The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. - -"There will be no reporters among them?" - -"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" - -"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive -young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while -the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this -persecution again." - -"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man -in the place." - -"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your -friends." - -"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" - -"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules -of civilized intercourse." - -Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, -where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. - -After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg -contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal -round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very -decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn -it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We -settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, -each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the -duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up -Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted -with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the -Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out -some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we -thanked him. - -Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the -cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every -respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth -up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and -what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of -apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be -brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. - -"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. - -The old boy seemed a bit rattled. - -"I have never been to Birdsburg." - -The chappie seemed pained. - -"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in -the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" - -"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. - -The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. - -"Say!" - -He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins -and a cold eye. - -The assemblage looked at him. - -"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not -questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict -business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on -record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." - -"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. - -"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but -there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here -says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're -the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read -English novels, and I know all about it." - -"This is monstrous!" - -"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to -know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should -see that we get our money's worth." - -The water-supply cove chipped in: - -"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the -agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to -reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here -a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want -to know----" - -Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the -water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. - -"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite -politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." - -"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens -of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands -with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my -friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. -Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are -the Duke of Chiswick at all." - -Old Chiswick gulped. - -"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that -I am the Duke of Chiswick." - -"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we -wanted to know. Let the thing go on." - -"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am -feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." - -"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at -this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." - -"I fear I must disappoint them." - -"But in that case the deal would have to be off." - -"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." - -The chappie seemed troubled. - -"You really won't meet the rest of them?" - -"No!" - -"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." - -They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick -turned to Bicky: - -"Well?" - -Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. - -"Was it true what that man said?" - -"Yes, uncle." - -"What do you mean by playing this trick?" - -Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. - -"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." - -Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: - -"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of -money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if -you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every -day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five -cents. - -"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" - -"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a -substantial business man." - -"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. -"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance -of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly -in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the -ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." - -Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. - -"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your -financial status!" - -"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He -doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot -stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think -it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" - -"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a -penny!" - -"But----" - -"Not a penny!" - -There was a respectful cough in the background. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" - -Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. - -"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. - -"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a -little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might -secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this -afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and -enterprising newspapers." - -"By Jove!" I said. - -"By George!" said Bicky. - -"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. - -"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. -They eat that sort of stuff." - -Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. - -"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" - -"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't -get the money any other way----" - -"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange -something." - -"I won't go to that bally ranch." - -"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a -moment suggest it. I--I think----" - -He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, -on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I -might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to -utilize your services in some secretarial position." - -"I shouldn't mind that." - -"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in -English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" - -"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred -quid a year, paid quarterly." - -"My dear boy!" - -"Absolutely!" - -"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled -opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to -accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, -you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." - -"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, -that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. -It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens -has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen -chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's -a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. -Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till -they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a -future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" - -A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be -resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. - -"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." - -"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to -celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It beats me how you do it." - -"Yes, sir." - -"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" - -"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify -his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to -assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position -to do so." - -"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. - -"Bring my shaving things." - -A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. - -"You mean, sir?" - -"And shave off my moustache." - -There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. - -"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped -off. - - - - -ABSENT TREATMENT - - -I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most -interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but -I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. -If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; -and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a -girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. - -If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be -surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for -the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who -have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised -when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. - -In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most -pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called -me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it -came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap -was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him -a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him -a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before -the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to -see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. -By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town -before my messenger arrived. - -The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. -Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, -once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that -stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. - -At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't -occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; -that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup -chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still -doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like -that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, -as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out -things. - -She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave -about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her -living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life -there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a -girl who works for her living. - -Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she -had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those -determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself -up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and -rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't -been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to -the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. - -Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he -introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my -name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. -My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He -left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but -I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a -girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being -an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat -for years. - -Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come -to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the -greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she -thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about -her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie -didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being -quite happy. - -Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't -really start till then. - -They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite -a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be -running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I -thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There -were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. - -But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here -that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. - -I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back -to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting -myself under police protection, I went. - -When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell -you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and -crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And -she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to -describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this -was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were -dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked -domesticity. - -"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have -a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it -up now--what?" - -She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned -scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little -laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree -about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. - -"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at -me. - -And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She -talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on -the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly -little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of -thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was -working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and -that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and -everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've -sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the -rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and -got away. - -Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie -at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely -gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. - -He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to -about it. - -"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. - -I didn't exactly. - -"About a year, isn't it?" - -"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" - -Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. - -"Yesterday was----?" - -"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the -Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. -I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through -dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd -forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" - -"Till your wife mentioned it?" - -He nodded---- - -"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. - -I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be -angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, -they aren't half-hearted about it. - -"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken -sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." - -There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat -there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the -window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and -watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then -walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an -instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a -certain stratum of sense. - - * * * * * - -It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem -of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in -one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; -but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the -average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable -mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently -through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a -chump of the first water. - -And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And -Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like -dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork -disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him -against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. -Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might -cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I -had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my -life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I -forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. - -For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet -little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read -somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to -Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big -enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. -Pretty soon he was back at the old game. - -It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was -frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew -it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married -one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's -married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to -do it now, before he began to drift away. - -I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he -was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't -remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was -something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a -book. - -"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she -knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about -everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." - -He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a -couple of sovereigns. - -"Oh, by the way," he said. - -"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. - -"I owe it you." - -"How's that?" I said. - -"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were -playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, -and Murray beat him by twenty odd." - -"So you do remember some things?" I said. - -He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter -who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after -knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. - -"Subside, laddie," I said. - -Then I spoke to him like a father. - -"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull -yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're -due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to -make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, -even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've -got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included -in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." - -"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks -such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot -what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the -cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a -memorizing freak at the halls." - -"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear -that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be -trouble." - -He chewed the knob of his stick. - -"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. - -"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. - - * * * * * - -I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing -in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, -and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But -no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. -I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to -anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. -If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the -only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After -that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. -But I thought a lot about him. - -Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, -and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a -kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had -been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that -he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the -thorax. - -I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out -over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and -down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed -Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, -waving a piece of paper in his hand. - -"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" - -"Gone!" I said. "Who?" - -"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" - -"Where?" I said. - -Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly -foamed at the mouth. - -"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." - -He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. - -"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." - -So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, -but it was all to the point. This is what it said: - - "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me - to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will - come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." - -I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" - -"Why don't I what?" - -"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to -ask." - -"But she says on her birthday." - -"Well, when is her birthday?" - -"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." - -"Forgotten!" I said. - -"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." - -"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the -twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" - -"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the -thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." - -"Think." - -"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've -been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." - -"And you can't remember?" - -"No." - -I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. - -"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an -untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes -and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's -birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know -enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his -deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself -out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For -instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What -sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." - -Bobbie shook his head. - -"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." - -"Warm?" - -"Warmish." - -"Or cold?" - -"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." - -I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young -Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An -invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without -which no home is complete." - -Bobbie seemed to be thinking. - -"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on -her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the -date when it was bought, and the thing's done." - -"Absolutely. What did you give her?" - -He sagged. - -"I can't remember," he said. - -Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's -as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever -had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did -it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the -undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a -brain-wave. - -Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? -There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, -your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. -Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we -found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the -month, and narrow it down a whole lot. - -A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied -out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. -As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we -saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, -but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly -hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December -people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." -Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite -extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born -with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed -up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful -memories"--Mary's speciality. - -We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. - -Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that -month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a -happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women -"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and -expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was -about as like Mary as anything could be. - -In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went -home. - -It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old -Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It -represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the -middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that -is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had -a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think -in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his -brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow -human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was -all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these -brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all -over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would -only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the -idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. - -I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he -came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I -never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. - -One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see -that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. - -"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I -shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went -together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" - -"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" - -"Why, they change the programme every week there." - -"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." - -"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's -Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing -it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this -minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out -of them, if I have to use a crowbar." - -So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like -brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the -pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. - -"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me -another time." - -"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." - -And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. - -Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. -I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It -was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. - -"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. -We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have -been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." - -"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." - -I heard him give a sort of howl. - -"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. - -"Well?" - -"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the -Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to -bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." - -"But I'm always writing cheques." - -"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up -your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the -Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." - -He gave a kind of gulp. - -"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe -you've got it. Hold the line." - -Presently he came back again. - -"Halloa!" he said. - -"I'm here," I said. - -"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" - -"Topping," I said. "Good night." - -It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as -well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel -near the Strand. - -"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. - -"It's late," said the man at the other end. - -"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." - -I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had -frozen hard, but I was past regrets. - -"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. - -"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that -particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." - -"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" - -"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." - -She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must -be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't -you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about -my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. - -"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" - -"No." - -Well, I hadn't. - -"Mr. Pepper." - -"Yes?" - -"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" - -I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the -party. - -"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. -He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has -started out to worry after breakfast, and----" - -Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should -pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the -wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, -don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she -bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in -that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it -means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. - -And then she began. - -"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and -see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from -you would have put everything right, I can't----" - -"But----" - -"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most -unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a -kind-hearted man." - -"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" - -"I thought it hateful, abominable." - -"But you said it was absolutely top----" - -"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't -wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to -be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to -separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by -gloating over his agony----" - -"But----!" - -"When one single word would have----" - -"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. - -"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to -break your promise?" - -I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the -receiver, and crawled into bed. - - * * * * * - -I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit -the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing -invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes -went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And -as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself -together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I -am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: -"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every -minute." - - - - -HELPING FREDDIE - - -I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but -I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at -literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give -the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all -right. - -Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for -years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him -sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and -generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I -was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and -soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of -thing. - -Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes -plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to -question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the -matter was. - -As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with -Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the -engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently -she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused -to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. - -I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once -in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact -that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my -autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. - -"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to -Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the -twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." - -"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I -knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl -wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; -suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never -answered at all." - -But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had -swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to -Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. - -Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a -fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day -there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll -out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on -the wounds and go to bed. - -It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze -sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a -rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round -waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers -the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. - -Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I -began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: -for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write -home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the -carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one -finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't -play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would -blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. - -He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. - -"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." - -"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" - -"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the -doorway. She cut me!" - -He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. - -"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go -away." - -"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that -could have happened. This is where you come out strong." - -"She cut me." - -"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." - -"She looked clean through me!" - -"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. -I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her -under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly -thanking you. What you want----" - -"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" - -I thought for a moment. - -"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. - -"I can't swim," said Freddie. - -That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a -thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. - -He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. - -I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. -There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear -old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in -happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a -backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a -man of enterprise. - -Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring -like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it -was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs -of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. -She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. -On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the -girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced -that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had -been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about -the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't -think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one -of those round, bulging kids. - -After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and -began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling -sweets at a stall. And I walked on. - -Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I -don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been -chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least -expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. -I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a -single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. - -It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, -when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. -The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in -sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought -the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of -the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was -her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young -heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully -anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly -appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the -effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and -practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make -her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid -and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of -reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by -George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. - -Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine -points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him -down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if -you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and -poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. - -"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? -What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" - -The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I -raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right -stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the -stuff. - -"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. -After a while it began to strike him. - -"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said -handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." - -And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to -scour the beach for Angela. - -I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie -that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again -made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was -leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down -the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still -with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. - -"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" - -"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow -laughs. - -"Well, then----?" - -Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. - -"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. - -"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the -beach. She had never seen him before in her life." - -"What! Who is he, then?" - -"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll -probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for -kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you -through the bars." - -"Tell me all, old boy," I said. - -It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the -middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered -gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he -told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually -call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of -way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping -stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had -crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. - -"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it -at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find -the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." - - * * * * * - -By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal -kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to -restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how -kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, -but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from -the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself -in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought -to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, -and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. - -I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody -answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody -came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way -that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I -wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from -somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" - -I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and -west of it, staring down from an upper window. - -"Hi!" it shouted again. - -"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. - -"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" - -"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you -Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." - -"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" - -The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face -reappeared. - -"Hi!" - -I churned the gravel madly. - -"Do you live here?" said the face. - -"I'm staying here for a few weeks." - -"What's your name?" - -"Pepper. But----" - -"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" - -"My uncle. But----" - -"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him -now." - -"I wish you were," I said. - -He beamed down at me. - -"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to -do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles -has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of -infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most -fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate -to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any -nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take -Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written -to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few -days." - -"May!" - -"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a -week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. -Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." - -"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a -bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to -escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. - -I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. - -The window flew up again. - -"Hi!" - -A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a -bomb. - -"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed -it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's -Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a -little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." - -My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. -Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat -from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. - -As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. - -The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at -her and said, "Wah!" - -The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. - -"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you -again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this -morning," she said to me. - -This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered -lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded -good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my -breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. - -I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out -what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more -manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his -head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he -began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, -dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such -expressions. - -"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, -why don't you say something?" - -"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"What can we do about it?" - -"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." - -He got up. - -"I'm going back to London," he said. - -"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you -desert a pal at a time like this?" - -"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." - -"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize -that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You -wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we -were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." - -He sat down again. - -"Oh, well," he said resignedly. - -"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you -know?" - -He looked at me in a curious way. - -"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good -deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." - -Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that -crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the -local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically -incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty -satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having -undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there -were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. - -Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew -what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere -matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I -stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which -might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like -nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. - -But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next -bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their -nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid -dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered -wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat -down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver -lining there had been to the cloud up to date. - -"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a -child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and -domestic--what!" - -Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he -had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a -much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, -the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. - -Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the -kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his -portmanteau. - -"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of -thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little -treasure?" - -I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. - -"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad -situation for act two of a farce." - -"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. - -"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll -rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." - -As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid -down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. - -"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the -old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping -child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. -Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the -piano?" - -"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." - -Jimmy shook his head. - -"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. -Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit -of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up -to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' -Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses -L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big -speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very -well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes -us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just -giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the -child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We -want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and -has the punch." - -"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, -that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts -Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." - -Jimmy frowned. - -"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set -instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, -when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First -rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." - -Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not -to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't -in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we -concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw -that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing -was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. - -"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first -rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his -line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two -words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got -a success." - -I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be -one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning -intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as -exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the -kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd -go all to pieces again. And time was flying. - -"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day -now and take him away." - -"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. -We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes -who would have learned the part quicker." - -I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't -discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash -at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was -after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have -been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first -opportunity, but Jimmy said no. - -"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said -'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might -do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." - -But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. - -It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie -had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the -house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along -came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual -yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. - -"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come -up?" - -She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that -sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the -kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the -sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At -any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the -veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. - -I tried to break up the scene. - -"We were just going down to the beach," I said. - -"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your -piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for -ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when -he's finished here?" - -"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be -disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell -him later." - -"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine -Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he -will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." - -"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. - -She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in -her pocket for something. - -"The beach," I babbled. - -"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't -you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of -toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. - -That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid -was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. - -And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for -all the world as if he had been taking a cue. - -He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the -ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" - -The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy -Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards -it. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. - -"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. - -"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on -till you do." - -She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still -stood there gaping, without a word. - -"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her -eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a -fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. -Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and -see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. -It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as -if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up -and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. - -"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. - -I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. -Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief -remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the -while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. - -And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. - -And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She -leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while -Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. - -Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it -seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in -my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a -word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. -What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? - -Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. - -"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? -We must have a big rehearsal to-day." - -"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor -dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." - -"Tell me," said Jimmy. - -I told him. - -"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's -always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things -look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now -a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" - -"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" - -In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow -from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite -projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the -road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, -about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as -if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped -in each other's arms. - - * * * * * - -Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his -business had certainly gone with a bang! - - - - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - - -I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the -course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, -was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, -don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. - -We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an -old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, -my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's -maid Pilbeam and George. - -George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him -into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who -was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to -hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he -had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was -a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a -sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a -chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and -had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it -struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at -Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix -up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George -had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were -anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the -thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from -a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my -state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed -and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, -which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly -recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd -expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently -relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my -midst at that hour was too much for me. - -"Voules!" I yelled. - -Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing -in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with -that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay -him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of -emotion in him. - -"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be -Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just -seven." - -"I understood you to summon me, sir." - -"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise -outside." - -"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment -I raised my voice." - -"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" - -"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." - -"What was all the trouble about?" - -"I was breaking our engagement, sir." - -I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with -engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his -secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. - -"I think I'll get up," I said. - -"Yes, sir." - -"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right -away?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was -a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all -the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. -Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit -pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for -it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? - -"Seen George?" I asked. - -I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was -queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly -close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and -slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; -she loves muh!" - -"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. - -I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that -a.m. - -The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when -the morning papers arrived. - -Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. - -"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. - -"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. - -"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." - -Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was -full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness -the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these -chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on -his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed -the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking -advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable -vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible -in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his -yacht, where he still lay unconscious. - -"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for -slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" - -"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His -Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent -private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the -police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important -clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in -Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." - -About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move -off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man -came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old -Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. - -"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on -board--Mr. George Lattaker?" - -"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I -say?" - -"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on -somewhat urgent business." - -"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him -up." - -I went down to George's state-room. - -"George, old man!" I shouted. - -No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's -more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more -surprised. I went on deck. - -"He isn't there," I said. - -"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone -for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better -wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" - -The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped -down, leaving me alone on deck. - -I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought -I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked -over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in -evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old -George. - -"Great Scot!" I cried. - -"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" - -"They're all down at breakfast." - -He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I -regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. - -"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. - -He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. - -"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How -do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about -touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of -my body this morning, Reggie!" - -"Yes, old boy?" - -"I did a murder last night." - -"What?" - -"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella -Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" - -"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" - -"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I -proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was -just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming -along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's -maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, -Reggie?" - -"Never. I've been refused dozens----" - -"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I -hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest -thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It -wasn't. It was Pilbeam." - -"You kissed her?" - -"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened -and out came Stella." - -"Great Scott!" - -"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, -not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It -did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed -off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to -forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned -my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can -recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street -and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all -I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my -hat." - -I dived for the paper. - -"Read," I said. "It's all there." - -He read. - -"Good heavens!" he said. - -"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" - -"Reggie, this is awful." - -"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." - -"That doesn't matter." - -"It does to him." - -He read the paper again. - -"It says they've a clue." - -"They always say that." - -"But--My hat!" - -"Eh?" - -"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman -Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" - -"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" - -He jumped a foot in the air. - -"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the -matter?" - -"The man!" - -"What man?" - -"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you -did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted -to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the -look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." - -"No!" - -"I feel it. I'm sure of it." - -"Had he a hat?" - -"Of course he had a hat." - -"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" - -"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must -get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your -life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lèse-majesté_. -It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to -waste." - -"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or -something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire -my uncle to meet me in----" - -"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" - -He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, -carrying a letter on a tray. - -"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A -letter has arrived for him." - -"He isn't here." - -"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" - -"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." - -"Very good, sir." - -"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to -see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" - -"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." - -"Ah! That's all, Voules." - -"Thank you, sir." - -He retired. I called to George, and he came out. - -"Who was it?" - -"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast -still. The sleuth's eating kippers." - -"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his -letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. - -"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. - -"Reggie, this is a queer thing." - -"What's that?" - -He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he -had grunted. This is how it ran: - - "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I - think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious - situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which - your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are - expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have - reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard - your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or - kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both - babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it - was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a - letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos - Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has - only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on - his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like - other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile - his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can - hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a - thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take - some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we - meet.--Your affectionate uncle, - - "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." - -I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I -do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I -have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. - -"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." - -"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this -chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, -though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have -to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, -failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently -there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected -offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." - -"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of -your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to -stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." - -He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. - -"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." - -"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of -twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't -Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you -up that you have a brother Alfred." - -"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." - -"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your -life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective -off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." - -At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. - -"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. - -"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll -swear George hadn't one." - -"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making -things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." - -"No, no." - -"You _are_." - -"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." - -And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. - -"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." - -I looked at George. George looked at me. - -"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us -away, would you, Voules?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You would?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by -it?" - -"Financially, sir, nothing." - -"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding -your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old -fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." - -"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you -think that you can buy my self-respect?" - -"Oh, come!" I said. - -"How much?" said Voules. - -So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. -You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted -to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. -By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred -when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it -up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed -his clothes. - -He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. - -"Did you meet him?" I asked. - -"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. - -"George's twin-brother Alfred." - -"I didn't know George had a brother." - -"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in -infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his -uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George -has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, -Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a -brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it -_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." - -And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. - -They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at -him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite -certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. - -"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. - -"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. - -"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. - -"No one could tell you apart," I said. - -"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came -to a question of identification, there would be one way of -distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" - -"He's a dear old pal of mine." - -"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" - -"Every day last August." - -"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this -on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped -and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it -often when we were bathing together. - -"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. - -"No," I said. "Oh, no." - -"You would have noticed it if he had?" - -"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." - -"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able -to prove one's own identity." - -That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It -seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think -George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had -breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he -hadn't a care in the world. - -Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the -foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the -rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. - -"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" - -"What did you tell me?" - -"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for -George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the -trouble was. And then----" - -"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you -after knowing you for about two hours." - -"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became -him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she -told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a -pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down -for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." - -"And it's all right?" - -"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that -infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." - -"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and -is waiting for you." - -"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. - -We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a -boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. - -"It's my uncle," said George. - -A stout man came up the gangway. - -"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" - -"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is -Alfred Lattaker." - -"What's that?" - -"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" - -The stout man stared at him. - -"You're very like George," he said. - -"So everyone tells me." - -"And you're really Alfred?" - -"I am." - -"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." - -He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. - -At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I -should be glad to have the afternoon off." - -I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a -trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. - -I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was -waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. - -"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" - -I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up -about it, so I told her. - -"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." - -She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm -hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" -which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. - -"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings -and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." - -I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my -state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of -this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going -about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was -at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. - -I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the -facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the -trouble. - -Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. -There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind -had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a -fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. - -I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says -about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of -care? George's was like that. He looked green. - -"Finished with your uncle?" I said. - -He grinned a ghostly grin. - -"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there -isn't any money." - -"Explain yourself, old top," I said. - -"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the -trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When -the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he -went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last -remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while -and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he -invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner -or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, -which he has done. He's on his way now." - -"You let him go?" - -"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis -around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding -prison is to be Alfred." - -"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, -anyway," I said, to cheer him up. - -"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. -How can I marry her?" - -I pondered. - -"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit -of a mess." - -"You've guessed it," said poor old George. - -I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what -a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you -see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, -and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You -can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. -Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, -getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what -I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about -it. - -It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. -We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old -Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when -he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was -suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was -worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and -I, only not for the same reason. - -We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a -well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. - -"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Cöslin, equerry to His -Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the -Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." - -Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. - -"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You -remember?" - -"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I -suppose not?" - -"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" - -Stella shook hands with him. - -"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a -terrible thing to have happened!" - -"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained -consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." - -"That's good," said old Marshall. - -"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your -permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." - -"Mr. Who?" - -The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. - -"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." - -"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" - -"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his -services----" - -"I know. But what's he doing here?" - -"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." - -"Eh?" - -"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. - -"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like -now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." - -"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" - -George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. - -"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can -tell me by my mole." - -He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. - -The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. - -"I am sorry," he said. - -George didn't offer to console him, - -"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." - -"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." - -"What?" shouted George. - -"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, -saved my high-born master from the assassin." - -George sat down suddenly. - -"I don't understand," he said feebly. - -"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the -conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was -also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard -the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a -dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he -had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. -My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he -lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing -the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the -assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His -Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His -gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, -you should be proud of your brother, sir!" - -"Thanks," said George limply. - -"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search -the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." - -"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. - -It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his -head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. - -"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. - -He glared at George, who was staring at him. - -"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this -afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours -without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll -learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this -morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on -you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged -that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. -And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his -mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That -man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." - -George got up. - -"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." - -"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." - -"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had -rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only -remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the -conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." - -"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. - -"I am." - -"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. - -"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of -Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." - -"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the -girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's -chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. - -"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot -yourself." - -He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed -to think better of it and fell into the clinch. - -It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. - -"Voules, you're sacked," I said. - -"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman -of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get -your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." - -"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the -presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his -preserver." - -"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" - -There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a -smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and -Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. - -"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so -happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." - -"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that -way now." - -I coughed and he turned round. - -"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. - -"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." - -"Beautiful," said Stella. - -"The moon," I said. - -"Ripping," said George. - -"Lovely," said Stella. - -"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" - -George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. - -I popped. - - - - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - - -Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean -really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, -or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly -bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my -notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty -few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the -Yeardsley "Venus." - -To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I -shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and -myself. - -When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire -family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at -Oxford with me. - -I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was -a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just -as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture -catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played -"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month -later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence -Yeardsley, an artist. - -What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the -club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I -got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the -book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me -that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the -country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, -by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I -was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to -be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it -had done. - -This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue -sky, as it were. It ran like this: - - "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of - you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old - house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. - Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be - so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you - again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. - Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. - --Yours most sincerely, - - ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. - - "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! - - "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has - ever played on. - - "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says - it is better than St. Andrews. - - "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" - -Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a -head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite -easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. - -However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he -was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must -be something special. So I went. - -Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him -for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was -glad to see me. - -"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just -about at my last grip." - -"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. - -"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere -mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be -so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" - -"Pictures?" - -"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an -artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like -when one gives her her head?" - -I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my -time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the -period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had -had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though -pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had -never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after -marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere -sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to -old Bill. - -"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a -chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" - -"A few days." - -"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there -to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was -that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me -back with a lasso." - -I tried to point out the silver lining. - -"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links -near here." - -He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. - -"You don't mean honestly she said that?" - -"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." - -"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" - -"Well, wasn't it enough?" - -"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" - -"No, she forgot to tell me that." - -"It's the worst course in Great Britain." - -I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have -got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily -allowance of golf when I'm not in London. - -I took another whirl at the silver lining. - -"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's -good." - -"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch -cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended -it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve -the thing as a billiard-table." - -"But she said you said----" - -"Must have been pulling your leg." - -We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well -back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I -couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read -about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and -hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to -know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she -had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was -what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought -me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going -to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married -women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was -nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's -father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as -she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. - -"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot -of that sort stopping here, are there?" - -"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." - -As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure -appeared. - -"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind -struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady -Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. - -"Do you mean me?" I said. - -She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same -as in the old days. - -"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid -you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come -along in and have some tea." - - * * * * * - -Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and -then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt -when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you -hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." -Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have -preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on -Clarence. - -He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His -hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore -pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells -myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, -mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. -Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. - -"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said -Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. - -"Eh?" I said. - -"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" - -While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old -gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was -an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. -Elizabeth introduced us. - -"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel -positive I heard a cat mewing." - -"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." - -"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my -nerves!" - -"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. - -"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. - -That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think -they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to -pictures. - -We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At -least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of -picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and -then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I -was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a -valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the -first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with -any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the -pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. - -"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" - -They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. -Elizabeth grabbed the paper. - -"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of -Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" - -"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" - -"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I -noticed her eyes were sparkling. - -"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been -the 'Venus'!" - -Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. - -"The 'Venus'!" he cried. - -They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the -evening's chat had made quite a hit. - -Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth -showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley -"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed -impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing -it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the -foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I -was aware of its existence. - -She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley -was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were -rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry -effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when -Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent -towards me and said, "Reggie." - -And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You -know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it -then. - -"What-o?" I said nervously. - -"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." - -"Yes?" - -She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back -to me: - -"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the -world for me?" - -There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as -a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she -would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that -sort of thing, what? - -Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. -I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't -appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who -may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to -her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction -when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man -who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. - -I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." - -"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me -everlastingly grateful." - -"Yes," I said. - -"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago -Clarence was very fond of cats?" - -"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" - -"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." - -"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" - -"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants -to get rid of something." - -"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" - -"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. - -She looked up and caught my bulging eye. - -"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. - -"Not that I remember." - -"Well, come into the dining-room." - -We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. - -"There," she said. - -On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed -it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It -was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, -you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ -noticed it. - -"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. - -She nodded. - -"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to -a meal?" - -"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry -through all right." - -She jerked her head impatiently. - -"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." - -And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't -understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old -Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It -explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, -which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send -you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're -absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped -into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a -teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and -go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, -the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. - -And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. - -It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and -that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have -known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding -present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so -far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a -professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at -the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. -He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. -He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to -look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything -rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to -store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the -picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent -that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. - -"Now you see," she said. - -"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy -weather over a trifle?" - -"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in -church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next -to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" - -She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, -or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It -was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other -one. - -Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a -dash at it. - -"Er--'Venus'?" I said. - -Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the -evidence, I mean. - -"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see -you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. -When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have -been at your club." - -This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up -to me, and put her hand on my arm. - -"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you -understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let -us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit -and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after -day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that -with Clarence. Now you see?" - -"Yes, but----" - -"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" - -"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to -do?" - -"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" - -I looked at her. - -"You want me to----?" - -"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you -see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the -idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of -the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the -last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his -feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! -One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take -his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, -Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of -the frame, and it's done." - -"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, -but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in -fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" - -"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." - -"But if I'm caught?" - -"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of -the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." - -It sounded simple enough. - -"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" - -"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." - -"But----" - -She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. - -"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." - -She looked at me. - -"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, -don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow -me?" - -"All right," I said. "I'll do it." - -I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped -in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. -If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job -I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done -when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed -easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, -and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for -one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be -pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. -I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my -knife, and slunk downstairs. - -The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the -window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of -local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. -I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, -when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have -said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. -Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and -things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling -something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that -sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" - -I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill -kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. - -"What happened?" I said. - -"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I -came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a -chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I -just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think -you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" - -"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she -had told you." - -"You don't mean----" - -"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." - -"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about -repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I -hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to -do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after -all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm -sorry." - -"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was -still on. - -"Are you feeling better now?" - -"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." - -"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this -job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made -a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on -the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." - -"Heads." - -"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the -light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." - -It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and -the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old -Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, -collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. - -"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture -of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the -thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him -a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of -Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." - -We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our -drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and -shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness -of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good -by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days -when we used to brew in my study at school. - -We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and -gripped my arm. - -"I heard something," he said. - -I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over -the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy -footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. - -"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. - -There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively -chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would -have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't -really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and -believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, -a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one -jump. - -"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." - -I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the -knife. We crept downstairs. - -"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. - -"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" - -"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. - -Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. - -Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. -And then we pulled up sharp, staring. - -The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the -near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," -holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, -was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He -had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he -stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down -in a heap together. The candle went out. - -"What on earth?" said Bill. - -I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most -fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly -collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I -could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, -it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at -me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I -saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But -we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped -short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old -Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. - -"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. -It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down -to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" - -It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among -those present. - -"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. - -"He's in bed," I said. - -"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself -on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who -sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." - -He gave a gulp. - -"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you -understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two -years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It -was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then -Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You -cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The -thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the -picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. -And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I -could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from -a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never -suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals -who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. -I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down -here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this -time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," -he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" - -I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this -time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him -straight instead of breaking it by degrees. - -"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite -understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort -of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" - -I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, -staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling -at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. - -"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have -taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My -Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, -but he had to know the truth. - -"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." - -He started, poor old chap. - -"Eh? What do you mean?" - -"They _did_ take your Venus." - -"But I have it here." - -I shook my head. - -"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. - -He jumped at it and straightened it out. - -"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own -picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can -you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" - -And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! - - * * * * * - -Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled -down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was -my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's -fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected -to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive -silence for a bit. - -"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing -Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" - -"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." - -"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving -Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to -London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how -about it?" - - - - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - -Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time -during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought -that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of -being baffled. - -Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages -for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's -more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who -was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; -philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely -on him at every turn. - -So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't -hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. - -The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was -in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the -dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower -ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and -generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first -impression was that it was some horrid dream. - -Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from -New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once -that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. -Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a -walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He -was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of -his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He -told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and -wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. - -He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a -month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three -hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there -was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in -which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to -young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, -American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things -once. It began: - - Be! - Be! - The past is dead. - To-morrow is not born. - Be to-day! - To-day! - Be with every nerve, - With every muscle, - With every drop of your red blood! - Be! - -It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of -scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, -with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said -they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four -in the afternoon for over a month. - -As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he -had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had -been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his -position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the -money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem -recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all -its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the -mantelpiece. - -And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! - -"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or -something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" - -I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped -for the bell. - -Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me -how he does it. - -"Tea, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression -of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky -was surging round with his beastly letter again. - -"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" - -"Read it!" - -"I can't. I haven't had my tea." - -"Well, listen then." - -"Who's it from?" - -"My aunt." - -At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: - -"So what on earth am I to do?" - -Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering -over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. - -"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. -Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want -your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, -and Rocky started again: - - "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a - long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been - very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made - up my mind to do now." - -"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" - -"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes -cleared at a later point in the communication." - -"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. - -"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. - - "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see - for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I - fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I - am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." - -"Sad, Jeeves, what?" - -"Extremely, sir." - -"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last -Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself -that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist -that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a -fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's -been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." - -"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of -the deer,' Jeeves?" - -"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." - -"Carry on, Rocky, dear -boy." - - "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the - city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly - thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the - Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a - certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to - enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." - -"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do -in ten years." - - "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now - I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I - have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a - firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you - quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you - live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. - I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as - I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic - life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant - supper parties. - - "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me - letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all - you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may - enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying - for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no - detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, - - "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." - -"What about it?" said Rocky. - -"What about it?" I said. - -"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" - -It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude -of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the -right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind -it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here -the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar -plexus. It amazed me. - -"Aren't you bucked?" I said. - -"Bucked!" - -"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider -this pretty soft for you." - -He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to -talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer -chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, -and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an -hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty -straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the -place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a -publicity agent for the old metrop.! - -"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have -to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole -of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to -mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. -Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because -they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I -loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got -to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral -delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than -a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" - -I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in -for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of -the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. - -"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to -share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars -and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I -suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a -ghastly notion!" - -I was shocked, absolutely shocked. - -"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. - -"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" - -"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by -the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" - -"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" - -"Three." - -"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear -the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." - -"And shirts?" - -"Four dozen, sir." - -"And white ties?" - -"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely -filled with our white ties, sir." - -I turned to Rocky. - -"You see?" - -The chappie writhed like an electric fan. - -"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on -earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't -get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put -on an old sweater?" - -I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his -finest feelings. - -"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. - -"That's what I want to know." - -"You might write and explain to your aunt." - -"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid -leaps and cut me out of her will." - -I saw his point. - -"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. - -Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. - -"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is -obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his -possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters -relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be -accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of -remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party -to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes -reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful -report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his -imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." - -Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked -at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as -I have, and he isn't on to his curves. - -"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the -start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the -idea?" - -"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. -All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you -and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. -That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a -startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. - -"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart -sort of man, a man who would notice things." - -"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." - -"But would he?" - -"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" - -For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost -smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and -for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. - -"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have -already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening -out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." - -"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She -wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, -Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will -show you the way." - -Jeeves shook his head. - -"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The -place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." - -"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." - -It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans -happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of -the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything -went absolutely right from the start. - -Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, -and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. -I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table -on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a -fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so -nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he -was making notes in a small book. - -As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond -of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was -perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his -pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to -death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to -be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it -was full of life. - -But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck -anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, -loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired -feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: - - "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. - I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The - cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's - everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, - - "BERTIE. - - "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" - -Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't -have got the confounded thing on to the second page. - -Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: - - "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving - me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems - more wonderful every day. - - "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are - magnificent!" - -Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an -authority. - - "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other - night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new - place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie - Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie - Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks - did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was - there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The - show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. - - "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" - -And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic -temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie -who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a -punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's -no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in -and congratulated him. - -"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell -you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." - -"It's just a knack, sir." - -"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, -what?" - -"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. - -And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to -say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month -after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old -bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence -like a bomb. - -It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices -that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It -was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. - -"Miss Rockmetteller!" - -And in came a large, solid female. - -The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt -much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd -come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that -it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I -stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an -attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should -have been rallying round the young master, it was now. - -Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, -except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as -a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if -put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly -regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor -old Rocky had been pulling on her. - -"Good afternoon," I managed to say. - -"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" - -"Er--no." - -"Mr. Fred Stone?" - -"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie -Wooster." - -She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean -nothing in her life. - -"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" - -She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I -couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. - -There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the -respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak -without having been spoken to. - -"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party -in the afternoon." - -"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he -say when he would be back?" - -"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in -returning." - -He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer -her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It -made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended -to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, -has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails -to make my spine curl. - -"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of -Rockmetteller's?" - -"Oh, yes, rather!" - -She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. - -"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your -own!" - -I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the -power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing -host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, -mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered -my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously -looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come -to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. - -At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being -about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old -stand-by. - -"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. - -"Tea?" - -She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. - -"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit -of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you -know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." - -I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the -evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. - -"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" - -I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve -centres had had the deuce of a shock. - -"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put -that into her head?" - -Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. - -"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my -suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from -this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good -central residence in the city." - -I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. - -"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an -intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about -here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." - -"Yes, sir." - -"It's pretty rotten, you know." - -"Most disturbing, sir." - -"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got -to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the -tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come -up by the next train." - -"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message -and dispatching it by the lift attendant." - -"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" - -"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. -Thank you." - -I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still -bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a -hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There -was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I -suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. - -"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful -silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. - -"What is a surprise?" - -"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." - -She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. - -"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. - -Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. - -"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" - -Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad -to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for -one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool -about with I felt happier. - -"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. - -It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal -more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her -out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. - -"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me -to drink this stuff?" - -"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." - -"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" - -"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." - -"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" - -I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way -that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was -brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had -had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. - -Conversation languished again after that. - -Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you -can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, -especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. - -"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. - -"At which hotel?" - -"The hotel you're staying at." - -"I am not staying at an hotel." - -"Stopping with friends--what?" - -"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." - -I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. - -"What! Here?" I gurgled. - -"Certainly! Where else should I go?" - -The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't -see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't -Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because -she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in -the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock -and produce some results when she spoke again. - -"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I -wish to lie down." - -"Your nephew's man-servant?" - -"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile -ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish -to be alone with me when he returns." - -I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for -me. I crept into Jeeves's den. - -"Jeeves!" I whispered. - -"Sir?" - -"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." - -"Very good, sir." - -"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, -and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and -keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, -and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants -you to prepare her bed." - -He looked wounded. - -"It is hardly my place, sir----" - -"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to -that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and -have to go to an hotel, what?" - -"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for -clothes?" - -"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag -when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" - -"I will endeavour to do so, sir." - -"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd -where I am when he gets here." - -"Very good, sir." - -I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. -The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive -chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. - -"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. - -"Good-bye, sir." - -And I staggered out. - - * * * * * - -You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher -Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he -has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, -you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more -sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's -misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. - -As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white -tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole -squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to -look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural -phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, -there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own -clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the -morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I -mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful -privations the poor have to stick. - -I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. -Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't -make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what -somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. - -I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but -nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go -on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the -hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've -felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as -if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I -should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang -I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end -of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. - -It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. - -"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" - -"Where are you speaking from?" - -"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a -fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a -friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life -written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and -I'm nearly crazy." - -"Tell me all, old top," I said. - -"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the -river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of -thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was -just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when -about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There -are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder -than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram -arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of -absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two -miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top -of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. -And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of -yours." - -I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky -was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. - -"You'll ruin them!" - -"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles -seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to -get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're -about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. -I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't -breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out -and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by -now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure -Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I -dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could -I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even -to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She -keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's -simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting -two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to -think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me -into it." - -"Me! What do you mean?" - -"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested -leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that -did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me -about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where -she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of -New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled -herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some -miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! -It's got to end!" - -"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" - -"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of -help that is!" - -"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is -for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a -lot of money." - -"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" - -"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying -all the expenses now, isn't she?" - -"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the -lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no -necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's -simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've -examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver -lining it's some little dissembler!" - -"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what -I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get -back to the flat." - -"Don't come near the flat." - -"But it's my own flat." - -"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you -did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said -she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless -and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget -it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. -Good-bye." - - * * * * * - -Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated -noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. - -"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your -personal belongings." - -He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. - -"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" - -"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is -a remarkably alert lady." - -"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" - -"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my -notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic -conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour -to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." - -"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." - -"We must hope for the best, sir." - -"Can't you think of anything to do?" - -"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far -without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the -light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." - -"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" - -"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the -tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case -and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." - -"You understate it, Jeeves." - -He gazed meditatively out of the window. - -"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine -who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are -much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great -city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever -the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and -spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has -broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable -her to gratify this desire." - -"I love to have these little chats with you about your female -relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me -down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got -to do with my trouble." - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on -the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I -should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." - -Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. - - * * * * * - -I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a -habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit -them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and -sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, -and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in -it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you -might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of -Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at -least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. -What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets -once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. - -New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up -just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks -began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at -Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except -the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the -ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to -see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled -for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for -myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under -the strain. - -It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took -it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to -surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless -spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I -had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the -impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York -night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a -cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the -shutters. - -The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that -I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on -the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort -of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the -chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without -disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the -proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had -helped a bit. - -For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his -aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in -again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were -something the management ought to be complained to about. - -"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, -"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good -turn if you asked me?" - -"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. - -"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest -of the evening." - -Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. - -"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" - -"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to -divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that -for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't -understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A -few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know -fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt -Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect -has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to -be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a -nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the -love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." - -I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was -sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had -lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore -Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about -rather unpleasant things. - -"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. - -"I have." - -There was something in her eye that seemed to say: - -"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" - -"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. - -And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, -bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and -then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this -wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light -of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had -gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged -home with ropes. - -It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. - -"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" - -I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't -anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with -the woman, so I went along. - -Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the -feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A -massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, -though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his -best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. - -I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his -lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something -told me that I was about to need him. - -The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the -decanter. - -"Say when, Bertie." - -"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. - -I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye -of one who sees it coming. - -"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it -there. - -"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see -a young man going to perdition!" - -Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the -whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. - -"Eh?" he said, blinking. - -The aunt proceeded. - -"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But -now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder -at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you -into contact with this wicked city." - -I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a -look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his -feelings. - -"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go -to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing -Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." - -"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. - -You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and -you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to -understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. -I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off -to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front -of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. - -The aunt gave me a withering up and down. - -"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp -having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing -men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would -have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. -He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque -phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I -first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How -often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! - -"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; -so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked -your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little -intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he -did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square -Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a -seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I -discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle -of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many -people, so I remained." - -She gulped. - -"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. -Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the -sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I -feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in -a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me -New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of -sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people -should be in bed. - -"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to -drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more -sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient -revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed -right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could -have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you -must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen -that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you -to dance in those places of wickedness?" - -Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. - -"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." - -"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is -not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. -You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find -that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour -and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, -Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the -struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" - -I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused -dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him -the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being -cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let -go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. - -"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" - -"Yes." - -"Not to live in the country?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller." - -"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New -York?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there -can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will -you--for my sake?" - -Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement -from that table. - -"I will!" he said. - - * * * * * - -"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying -in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just -come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour -before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was -the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like -home--what?" - -"Very true, sir." - -"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -I lit another cigarette. - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were -baffled." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? -It was pure genius!" - -"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I -was thinking of my aunt, sir." - -"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" - -"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks -coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always -found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her -mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might -prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." - -I was stunned by the man's resource. - -"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, -Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat -a lot of fish, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born -that way there's no use worrying." - -"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I -should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you -a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the -red domino pattern instead, sir." - -"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/8164-8.zip b/old/8164-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 77a57bf..0000000 --- a/old/8164-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/8164-8.zip~ b/old/8164-8.zip~ Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 77a57bf..0000000 --- a/old/8164-8.zip~ +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/8164.txt b/old/8164.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b2135c4..0000000 --- a/old/8164.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7297 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: My Man Jeeves - -Author: P. G. Wodehouse - -Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] -Release Date: May, 2005 -[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] -Last Updated: August 30, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team - - - - - - - - - - -MY MAN JEEVES - - - - -BY P. G. WODEHOUSE - -1919 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - -ABSENT TREATMENT - -HELPING FREDDIE - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - - -Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. -Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's -like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements -at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know -the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train -for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to -think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're -right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of -omniscience. - -As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond -Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I -felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address -of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the -hour. - -"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one -of Mr. Byng's." - -"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." - -"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." - -"Unsuitable for you, sir." - -Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came -home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I -nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a -music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in -absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and -that's all there is to it. - -But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, -though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows -everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." -I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, -red-hot tabasco. - -"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good -turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on -Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" - -He shook his head. - -"I'd rather not, sir." - -"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." - -"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second -place is what the stable is after." - -Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know -anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till -he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and -nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. - -"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. -From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." - -"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." - -And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean -would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, -don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with -Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, -when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to -ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. - -"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. - -I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my -cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square -way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I -left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to -stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got -the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound -scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and -having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out -to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm -bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody -was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going -on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced -me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before -I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses -up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly -around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy -coves. - -Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, -but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines -with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the -game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the -thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people -come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until -you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a -chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture -for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got -a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the -advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived -from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in -the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's -apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had -made quite an indecently large stack out of it. - -Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty -soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle -was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was -fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, -however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had -no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the -way the above Worple used to harry him. - -Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't -think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to -chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and -work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with -him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what -Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom -of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too -beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an -artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by -using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to -cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. - -He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple -was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the -American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. -When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he -just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start -being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was -what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called -_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More -American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that -he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds -gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let -him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked -with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so -these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the -time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the -frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when -broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. - -To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of -extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that -Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction -on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I -should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. - -So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl -in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancee, Miss -Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the -one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke -were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" - -The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking -anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but -can't think what the deuce to do with the body. - -"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you -might suggest a way of breaking it to him." - -Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a -way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were -the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it -yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me -as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man -isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of -feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, -little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was -nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those -innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your -system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out -to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to -tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, -you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and -dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I -felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. - -"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said -to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." - -Corky declined to cheer up. - -"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. -That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of -principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had -gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he -would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." - -I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. - -"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance -without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" - -"But how can I work it that way?" - -I saw his point. That was the catch. - -"There's only one thing to do," I said. - -"What's that?" - -"Leave it to Jeeves." - -And I rang the bell. - -"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy -things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very -seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies -in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in -a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they -want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he -says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite -bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh -of animals slain in anger and pie. - -The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful -attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost -child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him -that gave me confidence. - -Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye -gleams with the light of pure intelligence. - -"Jeeves, we want your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. - -"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way -by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting -on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, try to think of something." - -"I have thought of something already, sir." - -"You have!" - -"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may -seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial -outlay." - -"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an -idea, but it's going to cost a bit." - -Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the -whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting -gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. - -"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only -too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." - -"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's -attachment to ornithology." - -"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" - -"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite -unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the -flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. -Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I -have mentioned." - -"Oh! Well?" - -"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let -us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it -to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, -sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to -eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the -same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy -to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in -which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one -to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired -result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." - -I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage -when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had -betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me -down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to -hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's -brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. - -"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -The girl made an objection. - -"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even -write good letters." - -"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the -direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of -our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will -receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose -your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both -feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency -to kick like a steer." - -I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family -when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the -recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and -the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it -is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but -uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, -legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. - -But Jeeves had a solution, of course. - -"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious -author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for -a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should -appear on the title page." - -"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred -dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand -words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different -names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. -I'll get after him right away." - -"Fine!" - -"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent -fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number -now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while -a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real -work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the -old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny -book came along. - -I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The -Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was -there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang -at the door and the parcel was delivered. - -It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some -species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened -a copy at random. - -"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as -you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, -carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are -older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful -book--_American Birds_." - -You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later -there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed -cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap -who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. -I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the -world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a -certain disposition towards chumminess in him. - -"It's a cert!" I said. - -"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. - -And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to -tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so -dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. -Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author -of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would -be delighted to make her acquaintance. - -Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had -invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for -several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been -wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out -right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop -into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel -inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by -herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out -telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. - -"Well, well, well, what?" I said. - -"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" - -"Corky around?" - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" - -"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." - -It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a -kind of thingummy, you know. - -"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" - -"A row?" - -"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both -sides--er--and all that sort of thing." - -"Why, whatever makes you think that?" - -"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually -dined with him before you went to the theatre." - -"I've left the stage now." - -Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time -I had been away. - -"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" - -"Yes." - -"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." - -"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is -a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." - -I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of -healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he -looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. - -"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of -Bruce's, Alexander." - -The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from -hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. - -"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you -would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this -playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I -noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be -introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. -Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the -pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you -dined?" - -I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I -wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. - -When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I -called him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid -of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of -news for you." - -He came back with a tray and a long glass. - -"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." - -"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." - -"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You -remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by -writing the book on birds?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." - -He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. - -"That was always a development to be feared, sir." - -"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" - -"It crossed my mind as a possibility." - -"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" - -"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." - -Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer -frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to -it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a -cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the -same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky -again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of -soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few -months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was -beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather -up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the -healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on -it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple -had presented her husband with a son and heir. - -I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to -touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled -over. Absolutely. It was the limit. - -I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to -Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and -then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the -touch. I gave it him in waves. - -But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it -was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this -just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I -pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his -bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I -bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the -studio. - -I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting -away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle -age, holding a baby. - -A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. - -"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. - -Corky looked over his shoulder. - -"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will -be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby -and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. - -"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, please." - -"Good afternoon." - -"Good afternoon." - -Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and -began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for -granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as -awkward as it might have been. - -"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The -portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes -the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. -If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted -with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a -portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in -and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it -rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into -the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit -me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't -refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my -allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I -suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a -patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted -him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front -page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are -moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist -Beans Baby With Axe.'" - -I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was -too deep for words. - -I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't -seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm -bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally -of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. - -But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. - -"Bertie." - -"Halloa?" - -"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" - -"Nothing special." - -"You couldn't come down here, could you?" - -"What's the trouble? Anything up?" - -"I've finished the portrait." - -"Good boy! Stout work!" - -"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it -doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's -coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but -I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" - -I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The -sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. - -"You think he'll cut up rough?" - -"He may." - -I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the -restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too -easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. - -"I'll come," I said. - -"Good!" - -"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" - -"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves -is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" - -"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of -yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a -den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." - -"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang -for Jeeves, and explained the situation. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. - -We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up -in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. - -"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, -tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" - -The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good -look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I -went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite -so bad from there. - -"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. - -I hesitated a bit. - -"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a -moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I -remember rightly?" - -"As ugly as that?" - -I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. - -"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." - -Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort -of way. He groaned. - -"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned -thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked -that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of -the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put -the child's soul on canvas." - -"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how -he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" - -"I doubt it, sir." - -"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" - -"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. - -"I don't see how one could help noticing." - -"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. -But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." - -"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in -the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't -you think so, Jeeves?" - -"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." - -Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle -came in. - -For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy -shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't -think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his -stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't -notice him. - -"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really -finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a -wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" - -And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he -rocked back on his heels. - -"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the -scaliest silences I've ever run up against. - -"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about -sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. - -I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. - -"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. - -"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far -away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on -Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk -of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and -my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a -house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a -competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured -supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail -and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this -foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for -idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report -at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and -start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you -should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another -cent--not another--Boosh!" - -Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out -of the bombproof shelter. - -"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. - -Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was -a hunted look in his eye. - -"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. - -"What are you going to do?" - -"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You -heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." - -I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about -the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It -was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just -been sentenced to twenty years in quod. - -And then a soothing voice broke the silence. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" - -It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at -the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the -shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by -saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves -was there. - -"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby -Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? -He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite -saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him -use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which -he promoted." - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" - -"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects -a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he -did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of -Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. -It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a -billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial -fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage -for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks -into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always -a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In -the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a -coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable -one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a -likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly -consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. -Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been -for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold -and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly -popular." - -Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking -noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. - -And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. - -"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor -blighter was hysterical. - -He began to stagger about all over the floor. - -"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! -You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on -Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I -feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the -_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the -other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me -anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. -Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded -hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" - -Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal -muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to -smiling. - -"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the -series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" - -Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. -Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. - -"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished -looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an -optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with -Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest -before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the -swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for -instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the -eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the -neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" - -"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, -sir. Extremely diverting." - -"They have made a big hit, you know." - -"I anticipated it, sir." - -I leaned back against the pillows. - -"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a -commission on these things." - -"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has -been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." - -"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"But I rather fancy myself in it." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"Oh, all right, have it your own way." - -"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is -always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? - - - - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - - -I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's -Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that -it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and -more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up -behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. -It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy -matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned -up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. - -It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from -under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of -fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had -asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you -know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming -a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much -mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's -judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when -he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like -a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in -the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who -was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but -the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John -Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by -another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after -a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how -things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of -manly and independent. - -Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for -breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and -sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and -opened the door an inch. - -"What ho without there!" - -"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. - -"Eh?" - -"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." - -"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for -I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well -there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be -when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" - -"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean -liner at an early hour this morning." - -This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had -arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at -some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a -foreign shore considerably before eight. - -"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" - -"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." - -"Is she alone?" - -"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his -lordship would be her ladyship's son." - -"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." - -"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." - -"Then lead me to it." - -While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern -could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and -was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. - -"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left -London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on -social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." - -"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" - -"Eh?" - -"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" - -It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather -a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work -the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. - -"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. -Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" - -"Too ornate, sir." - -"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." - -"Unsuitable, sir." - -"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" - -"Very good, sir." - -Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was -firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into -the sitting-room. - -"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" - -"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I -think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." - -Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed -female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet -from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as -if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing -arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging -eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about -fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb -a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and -had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say -how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would -wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. - -Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. -He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered -down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't -bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the -struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any -eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. - -"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a -long stay in America?" - -"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure -and call on you." - -I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to -come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, -when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie -from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you -that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only -married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, -you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I -simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find -that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to -make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked -America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my -natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone -to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I -braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the -assemblage. - -"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be -of assistance to us." - -"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" - -"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little -while." - -I didn't get this for a moment. - -"Put him up? For my clubs?" - -"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty -darling?" - -Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. - -"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. - -"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have -him to live with you while I am away." - -These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply -didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave -Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling -the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on -me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't -you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board -at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle -into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, -rolling placidly over me, as it were. - -There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. - -"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to -Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in -America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, -visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I -am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, -_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write -a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend -more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, -but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my -dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ -after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with -me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall -have to pick him up on my return." - -From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the -breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I -felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of -putting a stop to this woman. - -"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. -Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear -Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the -country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He -will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as -if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped -chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. -"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give -him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you -so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your -help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before -my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my -information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and -take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. -Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." - -They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. - -"Jeeves! What about it?" - -"Sir?" - -"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the -dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." - -"Pill, sir?" - -"The excrescence." - -"I beg your pardon, sir?" - -I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was -as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I -understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to -get his own back. - -"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said -coldly. - -"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." - -I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any -sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a -moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he -didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I -was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! - -But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a -pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the -more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty -out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt -Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or -later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to -get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a -stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the -fellow up and make the best of it. - -About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel -of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw -it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough -in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more -cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, -and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch -with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with -excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, -the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost -forgotten blighted Motty's existence. - -I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't -till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of -Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. - -It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still -there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after -seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. - -Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the -chappie's manner that he was still upset. - -"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and -what-not. - -"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." - -"Not returned? What do you mean?" - -"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, -went out again." - -At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of -scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the -woodwork. Then a sort of thud. - -"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He went out and came back again. - -"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able -to carry him in." - -"Carry him in?" - -"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." - -I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up -outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. - -"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. -"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" - -"Sir?" - -"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or -something. Call up a doctor!" - -"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his -lordship's legs, while I----" - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" - -"I am inclined to think so, sir." - -And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't -mistake it. Motty was under the surface. - -It was the deuce of a shock. - -"You never can tell, Jeeves!" - -"Very seldom, sir." - -"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" - -"It would seem so, sir." - -"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette -and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It -seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. - -Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went -into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a -wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading -Gingery stories. - -"What ho!" I said. - -"What ho!" said Motty. - -"What ho! What ho!" - -"What ho! What ho! What ho!" - -After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. - -"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. - -"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, -that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most -frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy -dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own -invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one -of the ones!" - -I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and -sucked his stick the day before. - -"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I -said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. -But he wouldn't have it, at any price. - -"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too -much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm -going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see -me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on -the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the -defect." - -"But I say, you know, what about me?" - -"What about you?" - -"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I -mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in -the soup somewhat." - -"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old -thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to -yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great -city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so -bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my -eyes open and collect impressions." - -I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. - -"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if -my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But -duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean -to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with -life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" - -Put like that, it did seem reasonable. - -"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in -the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've -been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The -only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught -sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about -it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up -a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only -chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old -sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent -chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to -discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" - - * * * * * - -I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close -to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a -damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was -being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye -he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him -along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful -sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand -the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I -mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I -think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled -eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing -are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all -over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when -you want to sit still and digest. - -Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made -up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about -with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once -when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had -to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ -for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie -peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. - -In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about -four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over -about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. -I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no -denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of -Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded -Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of -the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to -get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and -sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and -putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber -next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose -weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest -word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. - -And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man -was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't -rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the -pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. - -"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" - -"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. - -"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the -principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha -is!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well, then." - -I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. - -"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping -with this blighter?" - -"No, sir." - -And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, -don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that -Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much -admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he -left me flat. - -It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing -pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. -This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of -town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. -I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the -evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who -frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. -That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The -neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian -dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere -wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a -collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song -when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked -peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was -extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of -soothing. - -The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place -which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty -there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch -on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared -hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an -extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped -backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall -just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" - -"That would be Rollo, sir." - -"Eh?" - -"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come -in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet -settled down." - -"Who the deuce is Rollo?" - -"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, -and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will -go in and switch on the light." - -There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the -sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without -a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such -that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down -as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his -paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have -been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all -worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me -where he had left off. - -"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally -quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." - -"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." - -"No, sir." - -"Well, what am I to do?" - -"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will -learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." - -"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I -intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that -one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all -right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and -stop with Mr. Todd in the country." - -"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" - -"No." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." - -"Yes, sir." - - * * * * * - -As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I -went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the -wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing -goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a -few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New -York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. -The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't -get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you -have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I -thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they -have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I -went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked -round cautiously for Rollo. - -"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" - -"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the -porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal -on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." - -I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had -misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a -lot of intelligence in him. - -"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Do you expect him back to dinner?" - -"No, sir." - -"Where is he?" - -"In prison, sir." - -Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? -That's how I felt then. - -"In prison!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You don't mean--in prison?" - -"Yes, sir." - -I lowered myself into a chair. - -"Why?" I said. - -"He assaulted a constable, sir." - -"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" - -"Yes, sir." - -I digested this. - -"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" - -"Sir?" - -"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" - -"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." - -"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." - -"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out -by then." - -"But supposing it hasn't?" - -"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." - -"How?" - -"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that -his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." - -"Why Boston?" - -"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." - -"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." - -"I fancy so, sir." - -"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this -hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a -sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." - -"Exactly, sir." - -The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze -seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what -the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have -pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I -reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a -small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick -at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. -Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. -Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that -I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty -existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was -still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, -but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was -tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There -was a kind of grieved look in his eye. - -And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't -been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping -along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea -and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement -that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few -garments round me and went in. - -There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as -ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she -had done the first time. - -"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" - -"I have got back." - -There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had -swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she -probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that -I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a -fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've -engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. - -"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" - -"I have not yet breakfasted." - -"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or -something?" - -"No, thank you." - -She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for -the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. - -"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." - -"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" - -"Extremely, thank you." - -"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old -Grand Canyon, and what-not?" - -"I saw a great deal." - -There was another slightly _frappe_ silence. Jeeves floated -silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. - -"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" - -I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. - -"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." - -"You were his constant companion, then?" - -"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you -know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of -lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred -concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually -played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing -sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to -Boston." - -"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" - -"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where -you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, -don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. -Yes, Motty went off to Boston." - -"You're sure he went to Boston?" - -"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in -the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't -change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" - -"No, sir." - -"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." - -"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went -yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material -for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, -seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" - -I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has -to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like -this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar -and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, -because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my -system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling -it up, and now it came out with a rush: - -"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! -So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, -thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to -you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to -the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" - -I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of -Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the -hatchet against my return. - -"You deliberately----" - -Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: - -"If I might explain, your ladyship." - -Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized -on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't -do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. - -"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and -that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when -his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that -his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had -given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a -friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till -your ladyship informed him." - -Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. - -"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is -so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, -so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away -for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that -his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, -but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." - -"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore -went to prison voluntarily?" - -"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's -parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently -heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow -your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's -book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his -lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was -doing so little to help." - -"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. - -"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of -the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one -night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." - -Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I -could see her struggling with the thing. - -"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose -that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own -volition than that he committed some breach of the law which -necessitated his arrest?" - -Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. - -"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I -should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his -pure, fine spirit." - -"Absolutely!" I said. - -"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. - -I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. - -"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that -blighter into riotous living." - -"I fancy you are right, sir." - -I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, -by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that -this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I -hesitated. Then I made up my mind. - -"Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"That pink tie!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Burn it!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"And, Jeeves!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" - -"Thank you very much, sir." - -I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and -all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the -novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and -decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other -things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would -like?" - -"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." - -"Fifty dollars?" - -"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his -lordship." - -"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" - -"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship -was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable -method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship -was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me -for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering -him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the -eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." - -I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. - -"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, -you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" - -"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. - - - - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - - -Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup -of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting -out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do -if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad -now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There -used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak -him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered -him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's -got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to -look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry -eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! - -The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot -it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. - -I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. -And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself -on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances -knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, -of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. - -It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to -the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink -he said: - -"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were -out." - -"Oh?" I said. - -"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." - -"What, pipped?" - -"He gave that impression, sir." - -I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a -matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss -freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained -between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on -anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You -see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this -had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, -and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval -till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while -there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is -absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was -getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my -costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the -time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my -pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim -on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old -bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. - -"He said that he would call again later, sir." - -"Something must be up, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a -good deal, so I chucked it. - -"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on -the _Carmantic_." - -"Yes?" - -"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." - -This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one -knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species -of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my -arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I -rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in -fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so -we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort -in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and -what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily -gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though -we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him -was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the -strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. - -"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? -Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who -married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." - -Jeeves knows everything. - -"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Leave any money?" - -"No, sir." - -I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the -rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I -mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but -the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy -old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was -notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American -chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left -him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old -duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was -hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. -He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on -principle. - -At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. - -"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky -came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. - -"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. -Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the -trouble, Bicky?" - -"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." - -"Say on, old lad!" - -"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -Bicky seemed a bit surprised. - -"Jeeves seems to know everything." - -"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." - -"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out -of the hole I'm in." - -Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the -table. - -"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you -to rally round." - -"Very good, sir." - -Bicky looked a bit doubtful. - -"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit -private and all that." - -"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it -already. Don't you, Jeeves?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. - -"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact -that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York -instead of in Colorado?" - -Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. - -"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" - -"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He -informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on -the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." - -Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. - -"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try -to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I -was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a -remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of -the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they -call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't -fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, -and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the -scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that -remittance." - -"I get you absolutely, dear boy." - -"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, -so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I -cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business -wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back -that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm -doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you -know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" - -"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was -coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always -given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I -can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." - -"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. - -"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you -prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" - -"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." - -"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. -Bickersteth----" - -"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, -and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast -that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of -course." - -"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this -flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was -the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I -was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be -residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would -occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this -answer satisfactorily, sir." - -Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed -sort of way. - -"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace -on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. -Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. -Will that meet the situation, sir?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Thank you, sir." - -Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. - -"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it -is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you -ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the -back!" - - * * * * * - -I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present -when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean -liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much -after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was -leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. -It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish -he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in -general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down -below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out -and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could -make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York -to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of -London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy -said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and -the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. - -"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir?" - -"That'll be him at the door now." - -Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy -crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. - -"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of -sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must -have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of -Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. -Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." - -Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. - -"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" - -"Absolutely." - -"It must be terribly expensive." - -"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." - -He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at -it to restore his tissues, and nodded. - -"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight -shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look -round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how -much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" - -"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." - -"What! Forty pounds a month!" - -I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the -scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was -thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew -of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, -for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as -an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most -pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. - -"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York -often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you -wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. -Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, -when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite -different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in -commercial circles as quite the nib!" - -"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" - -"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and -Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. -"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads -elsewhere." - -Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. - -"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" - -"He's upstairs now, having some tea." - -"What does he think of it all?" - -"He's absolutely rattled." - -"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See -you later." - -"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." - -He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the -club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and -going down the other. - -It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for -dinner. - -"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering -about the place. "Gone out?" - -"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. -Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective -was Grant's Tomb." - -"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are -going--what?" - -"Sir?" - -"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." - -"Not altogether, sir." - -"What's his trouble now?" - -"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth -and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, -sir." - -"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in -business, and all that sort of thing?" - -"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. -Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth -is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary -assistance." - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." - -"Somewhat disturbing, sir." - -"I never expected anything like this!" - -"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." - -"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." - -My heart bled for Bicky. - -"We must do something, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Can you think of anything?" - -"Not at the moment, sir." - -"There must be something we can do." - -"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I -mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there -is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the -occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his -title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting -failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another -name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have -generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No -doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's -difficulty, sir." - -"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" - -"I will spare no pains, sir." - -I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was -when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a -dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time -than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill -of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. - -When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, -hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette -hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare -in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the -newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." - -"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. - -He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact -that it hadn't anything in it. - -"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. - -He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. - -"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money -was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been -reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can -make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars -and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a -hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every -day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep -of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every -seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. -Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have -more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep -in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd -make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get -quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair -at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no -good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." - -"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." - -"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." - -That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend -money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it -to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift -the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled -tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the -second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along -Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my -neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've -simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a -hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight -and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his -uppers, not taking any at any price. - -"Well, there's only one hope, then." - -"What's that?" - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of -shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting -in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you -look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little -uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. -He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves -now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my -tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" - -"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have -found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a -liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's -potentialities as a source of revenue." - -Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, -mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, -rather like a gargle. - -"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of -inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of -regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say -so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." - -Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't -get it myself. - -"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" - -"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a -prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you -are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent -personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might -know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two -dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including -handshake, to his grace." - -Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. - -"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid -cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" - -"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for -bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave -her social standing among the neighbours." - -Bicky wavered. - -"If you think it could be done----" - -"I feel convinced of it, sir." - -"What do you think, Bertie?" - -"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." - -"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." - -And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. - -Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making -proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock -Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays -I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market -opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened -quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest -the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the -week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper -down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in -sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of -light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money -down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, -owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to -kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me -the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things -take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as -a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. - -The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it -hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of -his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever -met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room -one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was -something doing. - -"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" - -"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." - -"Sir?" - -"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." - -"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." - -"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" - -"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." - -I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. - -"Birdsburg?" - -"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." - -"How did you get them?" - -"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be -absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into -conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. -I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his -buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for -Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a -gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the -auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to -inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming -a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if -Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was -purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at -some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. -It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and -pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had -shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to -broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I -have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention -shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." - -I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. - -"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" - -"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms -finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." - -I thought a bit. - -"Payable in advance?" - -"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not -successful." - -"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. -Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect -anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" - -"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not -bright." - -"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some -money." - -"Yes, sir." - -"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Right-o!" - -"Very good, sir." - -When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told -him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the -sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic -section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. - -"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? -I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you -know." - -The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. - -"There will be no reporters among them?" - -"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" - -"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive -young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while -the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this -persecution again." - -"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man -in the place." - -"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your -friends." - -"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" - -"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules -of civilized intercourse." - -Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, -where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. - -After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg -contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal -round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very -decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn -it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We -settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, -each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the -duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up -Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted -with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the -Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out -some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we -thanked him. - -Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the -cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every -respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth -up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and -what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of -apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be -brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. - -"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. - -The old boy seemed a bit rattled. - -"I have never been to Birdsburg." - -The chappie seemed pained. - -"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in -the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" - -"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. - -The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. - -"Say!" - -He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins -and a cold eye. - -The assemblage looked at him. - -"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not -questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict -business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on -record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." - -"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. - -"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but -there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here -says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're -the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read -English novels, and I know all about it." - -"This is monstrous!" - -"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to -know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should -see that we get our money's worth." - -The water-supply cove chipped in: - -"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the -agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to -reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here -a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want -to know----" - -Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the -water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. - -"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite -politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." - -"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens -of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands -with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my -friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. -Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are -the Duke of Chiswick at all." - -Old Chiswick gulped. - -"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that -I am the Duke of Chiswick." - -"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we -wanted to know. Let the thing go on." - -"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am -feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." - -"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at -this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." - -"I fear I must disappoint them." - -"But in that case the deal would have to be off." - -"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." - -The chappie seemed troubled. - -"You really won't meet the rest of them?" - -"No!" - -"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." - -They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick -turned to Bicky: - -"Well?" - -Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. - -"Was it true what that man said?" - -"Yes, uncle." - -"What do you mean by playing this trick?" - -Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. - -"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." - -Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: - -"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of -money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if -you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every -day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five -cents. - -"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" - -"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a -substantial business man." - -"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. -"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance -of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly -in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the -ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." - -Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. - -"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your -financial status!" - -"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He -doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot -stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think -it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" - -"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a -penny!" - -"But----" - -"Not a penny!" - -There was a respectful cough in the background. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" - -Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. - -"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. - -"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a -little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might -secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this -afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and -enterprising newspapers." - -"By Jove!" I said. - -"By George!" said Bicky. - -"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. - -"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. -They eat that sort of stuff." - -Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. - -"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" - -"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't -get the money any other way----" - -"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange -something." - -"I won't go to that bally ranch." - -"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a -moment suggest it. I--I think----" - -He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, -on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I -might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to -utilize your services in some secretarial position." - -"I shouldn't mind that." - -"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in -English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" - -"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred -quid a year, paid quarterly." - -"My dear boy!" - -"Absolutely!" - -"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled -opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to -accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, -you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." - -"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, -that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. -It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens -has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen -chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's -a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. -Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till -they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a -future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" - -A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be -resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. - -"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." - -"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to -celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It beats me how you do it." - -"Yes, sir." - -"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" - -"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify -his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to -assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position -to do so." - -"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. - -"Bring my shaving things." - -A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. - -"You mean, sir?" - -"And shave off my moustache." - -There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. - -"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped -off. - - - - -ABSENT TREATMENT - - -I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most -interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but -I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. -If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; -and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a -girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. - -If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be -surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for -the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who -have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised -when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. - -In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most -pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called -me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it -came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap -was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him -a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him -a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before -the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to -see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. -By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town -before my messenger arrived. - -The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. -Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, -once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that -stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. - -At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't -occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; -that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup -chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still -doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like -that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, -as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out -things. - -She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave -about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her -living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life -there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a -girl who works for her living. - -Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she -had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those -determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself -up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and -rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't -been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to -the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. - -Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he -introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my -name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. -My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He -left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but -I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a -girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being -an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat -for years. - -Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come -to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the -greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she -thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about -her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie -didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being -quite happy. - -Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't -really start till then. - -They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite -a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be -running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I -thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There -were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. - -But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here -that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. - -I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back -to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting -myself under police protection, I went. - -When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell -you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and -crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And -she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to -describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this -was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were -dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked -domesticity. - -"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have -a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it -up now--what?" - -She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned -scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little -laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree -about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. - -"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at -me. - -And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She -talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on -the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly -little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of -thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was -working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and -that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and -everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've -sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the -rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and -got away. - -Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie -at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely -gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. - -He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to -about it. - -"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. - -I didn't exactly. - -"About a year, isn't it?" - -"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" - -Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. - -"Yesterday was----?" - -"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the -Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. -I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through -dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd -forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" - -"Till your wife mentioned it?" - -He nodded---- - -"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. - -I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be -angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, -they aren't half-hearted about it. - -"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken -sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." - -There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat -there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the -window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and -watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then -walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an -instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a -certain stratum of sense. - - * * * * * - -It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem -of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in -one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; -but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the -average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable -mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently -through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a -chump of the first water. - -And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And -Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like -dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork -disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him -against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. -Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might -cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I -had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my -life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I -forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. - -For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet -little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read -somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to -Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big -enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. -Pretty soon he was back at the old game. - -It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was -frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew -it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married -one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's -married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to -do it now, before he began to drift away. - -I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he -was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't -remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was -something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a -book. - -"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she -knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about -everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." - -He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a -couple of sovereigns. - -"Oh, by the way," he said. - -"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. - -"I owe it you." - -"How's that?" I said. - -"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were -playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, -and Murray beat him by twenty odd." - -"So you do remember some things?" I said. - -He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter -who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after -knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. - -"Subside, laddie," I said. - -Then I spoke to him like a father. - -"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull -yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're -due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to -make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, -even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've -got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included -in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." - -"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks -such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot -what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the -cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a -memorizing freak at the halls." - -"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear -that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be -trouble." - -He chewed the knob of his stick. - -"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. - -"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. - - * * * * * - -I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing -in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, -and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But -no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. -I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to -anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. -If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the -only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After -that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. -But I thought a lot about him. - -Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, -and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a -kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had -been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that -he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the -thorax. - -I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out -over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and -down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed -Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, -waving a piece of paper in his hand. - -"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" - -"Gone!" I said. "Who?" - -"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" - -"Where?" I said. - -Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly -foamed at the mouth. - -"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." - -He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. - -"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." - -So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, -but it was all to the point. This is what it said: - - "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me - to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will - come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." - -I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" - -"Why don't I what?" - -"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to -ask." - -"But she says on her birthday." - -"Well, when is her birthday?" - -"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." - -"Forgotten!" I said. - -"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." - -"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the -twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" - -"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the -thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." - -"Think." - -"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've -been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." - -"And you can't remember?" - -"No." - -I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. - -"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an -untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes -and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's -birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know -enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his -deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself -out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For -instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What -sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." - -Bobbie shook his head. - -"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." - -"Warm?" - -"Warmish." - -"Or cold?" - -"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." - -I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young -Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An -invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without -which no home is complete." - -Bobbie seemed to be thinking. - -"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on -her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the -date when it was bought, and the thing's done." - -"Absolutely. What did you give her?" - -He sagged. - -"I can't remember," he said. - -Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's -as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever -had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did -it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the -undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a -brain-wave. - -Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? -There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, -your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. -Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we -found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the -month, and narrow it down a whole lot. - -A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied -out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. -As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we -saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, -but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly -hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December -people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." -Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite -extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born -with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed -up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful -memories"--Mary's speciality. - -We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. - -Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that -month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a -happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women -"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and -expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was -about as like Mary as anything could be. - -In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went -home. - -It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old -Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It -represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the -middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that -is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had -a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think -in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his -brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow -human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was -all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these -brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all -over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would -only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the -idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. - -I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he -came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I -never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. - -One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see -that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. - -"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I -shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went -together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" - -"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" - -"Why, they change the programme every week there." - -"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." - -"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's -Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing -it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this -minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out -of them, if I have to use a crowbar." - -So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like -brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the -pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. - -"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me -another time." - -"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." - -And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. - -Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. -I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It -was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. - -"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. -We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have -been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." - -"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." - -I heard him give a sort of howl. - -"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. - -"Well?" - -"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the -Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to -bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." - -"But I'm always writing cheques." - -"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up -your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the -Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." - -He gave a kind of gulp. - -"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe -you've got it. Hold the line." - -Presently he came back again. - -"Halloa!" he said. - -"I'm here," I said. - -"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" - -"Topping," I said. "Good night." - -It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as -well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel -near the Strand. - -"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. - -"It's late," said the man at the other end. - -"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." - -I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had -frozen hard, but I was past regrets. - -"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. - -"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that -particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." - -"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" - -"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." - -She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must -be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't -you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about -my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. - -"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" - -"No." - -Well, I hadn't. - -"Mr. Pepper." - -"Yes?" - -"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" - -I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the -party. - -"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. -He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has -started out to worry after breakfast, and----" - -Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should -pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the -wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, -don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she -bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in -that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it -means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. - -And then she began. - -"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and -see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from -you would have put everything right, I can't----" - -"But----" - -"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most -unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a -kind-hearted man." - -"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" - -"I thought it hateful, abominable." - -"But you said it was absolutely top----" - -"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't -wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to -be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to -separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by -gloating over his agony----" - -"But----!" - -"When one single word would have----" - -"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. - -"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to -break your promise?" - -I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the -receiver, and crawled into bed. - - * * * * * - -I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit -the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing -invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes -went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And -as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself -together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I -am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: -"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every -minute." - - - - -HELPING FREDDIE - - -I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but -I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at -literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give -the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all -right. - -Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for -years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him -sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and -generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I -was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and -soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of -thing. - -Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes -plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to -question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the -matter was. - -As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with -Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the -engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently -she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused -to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. - -I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once -in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact -that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my -autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. - -"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to -Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the -twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." - -"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I -knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl -wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; -suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never -answered at all." - -But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had -swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to -Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. - -Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a -fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day -there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll -out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on -the wounds and go to bed. - -It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze -sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a -rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round -waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers -the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. - -Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I -began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: -for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write -home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the -carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one -finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't -play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would -blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. - -He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. - -"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." - -"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" - -"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the -doorway. She cut me!" - -He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. - -"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go -away." - -"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that -could have happened. This is where you come out strong." - -"She cut me." - -"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." - -"She looked clean through me!" - -"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. -I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her -under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly -thanking you. What you want----" - -"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" - -I thought for a moment. - -"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. - -"I can't swim," said Freddie. - -That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a -thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. - -He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. - -I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. -There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear -old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in -happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a -backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a -man of enterprise. - -Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring -like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it -was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs -of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. -She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. -On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the -girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced -that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had -been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about -the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't -think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one -of those round, bulging kids. - -After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and -began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling -sweets at a stall. And I walked on. - -Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I -don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been -chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least -expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. -I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a -single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. - -It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, -when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. -The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in -sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought -the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of -the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was -her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young -heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully -anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly -appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the -effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and -practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make -her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid -and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of -reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by -George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. - -Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine -points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him -down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if -you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and -poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. - -"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? -What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" - -The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I -raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right -stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the -stuff. - -"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. -After a while it began to strike him. - -"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said -handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." - -And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to -scour the beach for Angela. - -I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie -that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again -made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was -leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down -the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still -with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. - -"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" - -"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow -laughs. - -"Well, then----?" - -Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. - -"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. - -"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the -beach. She had never seen him before in her life." - -"What! Who is he, then?" - -"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll -probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for -kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you -through the bars." - -"Tell me all, old boy," I said. - -It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the -middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered -gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he -told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually -call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of -way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping -stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had -crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. - -"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it -at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find -the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." - - * * * * * - -By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal -kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to -restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how -kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, -but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from -the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself -in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought -to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, -and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. - -I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody -answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody -came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way -that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I -wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from -somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" - -I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and -west of it, staring down from an upper window. - -"Hi!" it shouted again. - -"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. - -"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" - -"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you -Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." - -"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" - -The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face -reappeared. - -"Hi!" - -I churned the gravel madly. - -"Do you live here?" said the face. - -"I'm staying here for a few weeks." - -"What's your name?" - -"Pepper. But----" - -"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" - -"My uncle. But----" - -"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him -now." - -"I wish you were," I said. - -He beamed down at me. - -"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to -do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles -has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of -infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most -fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate -to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any -nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take -Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written -to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few -days." - -"May!" - -"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a -week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. -Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." - -"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a -bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to -escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. - -I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. - -The window flew up again. - -"Hi!" - -A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a -bomb. - -"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed -it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's -Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a -little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." - -My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. -Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat -from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. - -As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. - -The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at -her and said, "Wah!" - -The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. - -"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you -again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this -morning," she said to me. - -This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered -lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded -good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my -breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. - -I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out -what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more -manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his -head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he -began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, -dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such -expressions. - -"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, -why don't you say something?" - -"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"What can we do about it?" - -"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." - -He got up. - -"I'm going back to London," he said. - -"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you -desert a pal at a time like this?" - -"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." - -"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize -that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You -wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we -were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." - -He sat down again. - -"Oh, well," he said resignedly. - -"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you -know?" - -He looked at me in a curious way. - -"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good -deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." - -Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that -crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the -local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically -incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty -satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having -undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there -were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. - -Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew -what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere -matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I -stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which -might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like -nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. - -But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next -bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their -nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid -dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered -wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat -down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver -lining there had been to the cloud up to date. - -"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a -child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and -domestic--what!" - -Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he -had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a -much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, -the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. - -Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the -kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his -portmanteau. - -"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of -thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little -treasure?" - -I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. - -"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad -situation for act two of a farce." - -"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. - -"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll -rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." - -As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid -down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. - -"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the -old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping -child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. -Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the -piano?" - -"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." - -Jimmy shook his head. - -"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. -Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit -of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up -to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' -Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses -L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big -speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very -well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes -us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just -giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the -child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We -want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and -has the punch." - -"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, -that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts -Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." - -Jimmy frowned. - -"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set -instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, -when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First -rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." - -Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not -to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't -in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we -concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw -that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing -was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. - -"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first -rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his -line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two -words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got -a success." - -I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be -one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning -intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as -exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the -kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd -go all to pieces again. And time was flying. - -"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day -now and take him away." - -"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. -We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes -who would have learned the part quicker." - -I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't -discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash -at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was -after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have -been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first -opportunity, but Jimmy said no. - -"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said -'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might -do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." - -But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. - -It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie -had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the -house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along -came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual -yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. - -"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come -up?" - -She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that -sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the -kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the -sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At -any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the -veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. - -I tried to break up the scene. - -"We were just going down to the beach," I said. - -"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your -piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for -ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when -he's finished here?" - -"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be -disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell -him later." - -"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine -Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he -will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." - -"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. - -She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in -her pocket for something. - -"The beach," I babbled. - -"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't -you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of -toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. - -That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid -was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. - -And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for -all the world as if he had been taking a cue. - -He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the -ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" - -The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy -Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards -it. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. - -"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. - -"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on -till you do." - -She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still -stood there gaping, without a word. - -"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her -eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a -fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. -Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and -see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. -It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as -if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up -and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. - -"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. - -I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. -Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief -remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the -while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. - -And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. - -And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She -leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while -Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. - -Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it -seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in -my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a -word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. -What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? - -Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. - -"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? -We must have a big rehearsal to-day." - -"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor -dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." - -"Tell me," said Jimmy. - -I told him. - -"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's -always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things -look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now -a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" - -"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" - -In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow -from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite -projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the -road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, -about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as -if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped -in each other's arms. - - * * * * * - -Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his -business had certainly gone with a bang! - - - - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - - -I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the -course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, -was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, -don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. - -We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an -old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, -my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's -maid Pilbeam and George. - -George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him -into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who -was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to -hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he -had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was -a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a -sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a -chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and -had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it -struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at -Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix -up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George -had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were -anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the -thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from -a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my -state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed -and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, -which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly -recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd -expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently -relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my -midst at that hour was too much for me. - -"Voules!" I yelled. - -Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing -in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with -that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay -him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of -emotion in him. - -"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be -Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just -seven." - -"I understood you to summon me, sir." - -"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise -outside." - -"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment -I raised my voice." - -"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" - -"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." - -"What was all the trouble about?" - -"I was breaking our engagement, sir." - -I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with -engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his -secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. - -"I think I'll get up," I said. - -"Yes, sir." - -"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right -away?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was -a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all -the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. -Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit -pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for -it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? - -"Seen George?" I asked. - -I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was -queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly -close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and -slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; -she loves muh!" - -"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. - -I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that -a.m. - -The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when -the morning papers arrived. - -Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. - -"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. - -"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. - -"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." - -Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was -full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness -the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these -chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on -his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed -the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking -advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable -vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible -in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his -yacht, where he still lay unconscious. - -"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for -slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" - -"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His -Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent -private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the -police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important -clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in -Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." - -About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move -off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man -came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old -Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. - -"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on -board--Mr. George Lattaker?" - -"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I -say?" - -"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on -somewhat urgent business." - -"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him -up." - -I went down to George's state-room. - -"George, old man!" I shouted. - -No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's -more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more -surprised. I went on deck. - -"He isn't there," I said. - -"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone -for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better -wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" - -The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped -down, leaving me alone on deck. - -I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought -I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked -over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in -evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old -George. - -"Great Scot!" I cried. - -"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" - -"They're all down at breakfast." - -He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I -regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. - -"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. - -He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. - -"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How -do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about -touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of -my body this morning, Reggie!" - -"Yes, old boy?" - -"I did a murder last night." - -"What?" - -"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella -Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" - -"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" - -"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I -proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was -just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming -along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's -maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, -Reggie?" - -"Never. I've been refused dozens----" - -"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I -hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest -thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It -wasn't. It was Pilbeam." - -"You kissed her?" - -"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened -and out came Stella." - -"Great Scott!" - -"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, -not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It -did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed -off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to -forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned -my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can -recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street -and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all -I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my -hat." - -I dived for the paper. - -"Read," I said. "It's all there." - -He read. - -"Good heavens!" he said. - -"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" - -"Reggie, this is awful." - -"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." - -"That doesn't matter." - -"It does to him." - -He read the paper again. - -"It says they've a clue." - -"They always say that." - -"But--My hat!" - -"Eh?" - -"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman -Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" - -"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" - -He jumped a foot in the air. - -"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the -matter?" - -"The man!" - -"What man?" - -"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you -did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted -to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the -look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." - -"No!" - -"I feel it. I'm sure of it." - -"Had he a hat?" - -"Of course he had a hat." - -"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" - -"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must -get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your -life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lese-majeste_. -It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to -waste." - -"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or -something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire -my uncle to meet me in----" - -"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" - -He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, -carrying a letter on a tray. - -"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A -letter has arrived for him." - -"He isn't here." - -"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" - -"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." - -"Very good, sir." - -"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to -see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" - -"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." - -"Ah! That's all, Voules." - -"Thank you, sir." - -He retired. I called to George, and he came out. - -"Who was it?" - -"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast -still. The sleuth's eating kippers." - -"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his -letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. - -"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. - -"Reggie, this is a queer thing." - -"What's that?" - -He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he -had grunted. This is how it ran: - - "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I - think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious - situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which - your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are - expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have - reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard - your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or - kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both - babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it - was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a - letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos - Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has - only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on - his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like - other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile - his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can - hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a - thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take - some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we - meet.--Your affectionate uncle, - - "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." - -I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I -do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I -have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. - -"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." - -"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this -chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, -though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have -to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, -failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently -there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected -offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." - -"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of -your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to -stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." - -He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. - -"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." - -"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of -twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't -Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you -up that you have a brother Alfred." - -"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." - -"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your -life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective -off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." - -At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. - -"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. - -"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll -swear George hadn't one." - -"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making -things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." - -"No, no." - -"You _are_." - -"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." - -And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. - -"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." - -I looked at George. George looked at me. - -"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us -away, would you, Voules?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You would?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by -it?" - -"Financially, sir, nothing." - -"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding -your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old -fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." - -"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you -think that you can buy my self-respect?" - -"Oh, come!" I said. - -"How much?" said Voules. - -So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. -You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted -to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. -By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred -when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it -up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed -his clothes. - -He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. - -"Did you meet him?" I asked. - -"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. - -"George's twin-brother Alfred." - -"I didn't know George had a brother." - -"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in -infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his -uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George -has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, -Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a -brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it -_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." - -And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. - -They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at -him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite -certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. - -"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. - -"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. - -"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. - -"No one could tell you apart," I said. - -"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came -to a question of identification, there would be one way of -distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" - -"He's a dear old pal of mine." - -"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" - -"Every day last August." - -"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this -on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped -and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it -often when we were bathing together. - -"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. - -"No," I said. "Oh, no." - -"You would have noticed it if he had?" - -"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." - -"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able -to prove one's own identity." - -That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It -seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think -George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had -breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he -hadn't a care in the world. - -Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the -foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the -rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. - -"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" - -"What did you tell me?" - -"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for -George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the -trouble was. And then----" - -"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you -after knowing you for about two hours." - -"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became -him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she -told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a -pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down -for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." - -"And it's all right?" - -"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that -infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." - -"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and -is waiting for you." - -"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. - -We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a -boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. - -"It's my uncle," said George. - -A stout man came up the gangway. - -"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" - -"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is -Alfred Lattaker." - -"What's that?" - -"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" - -The stout man stared at him. - -"You're very like George," he said. - -"So everyone tells me." - -"And you're really Alfred?" - -"I am." - -"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." - -He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. - -At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I -should be glad to have the afternoon off." - -I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a -trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. - -I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was -waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. - -"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" - -I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up -about it, so I told her. - -"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." - -She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm -hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" -which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. - -"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings -and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." - -I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my -state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of -this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going -about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was -at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. - -I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the -facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the -trouble. - -Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. -There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind -had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a -fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. - -I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says -about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of -care? George's was like that. He looked green. - -"Finished with your uncle?" I said. - -He grinned a ghostly grin. - -"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there -isn't any money." - -"Explain yourself, old top," I said. - -"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the -trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When -the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he -went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last -remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while -and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he -invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner -or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, -which he has done. He's on his way now." - -"You let him go?" - -"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis -around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding -prison is to be Alfred." - -"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, -anyway," I said, to cheer him up. - -"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. -How can I marry her?" - -I pondered. - -"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit -of a mess." - -"You've guessed it," said poor old George. - -I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what -a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you -see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, -and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You -can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. -Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, -getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what -I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about -it. - -It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. -We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old -Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when -he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was -suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was -worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and -I, only not for the same reason. - -We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a -well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. - -"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Coeslin, equerry to His -Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the -Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." - -Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. - -"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You -remember?" - -"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I -suppose not?" - -"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" - -Stella shook hands with him. - -"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a -terrible thing to have happened!" - -"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained -consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." - -"That's good," said old Marshall. - -"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your -permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." - -"Mr. Who?" - -The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. - -"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." - -"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" - -"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his -services----" - -"I know. But what's he doing here?" - -"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." - -"Eh?" - -"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. - -"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like -now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." - -"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" - -George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. - -"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can -tell me by my mole." - -He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. - -The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. - -"I am sorry," he said. - -George didn't offer to console him, - -"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." - -"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." - -"What?" shouted George. - -"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, -saved my high-born master from the assassin." - -George sat down suddenly. - -"I don't understand," he said feebly. - -"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the -conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was -also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard -the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a -dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he -had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. -My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he -lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing -the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the -assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His -Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His -gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, -you should be proud of your brother, sir!" - -"Thanks," said George limply. - -"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search -the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." - -"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. - -It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his -head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. - -"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. - -He glared at George, who was staring at him. - -"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this -afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours -without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll -learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this -morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on -you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged -that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. -And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his -mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That -man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." - -George got up. - -"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." - -"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." - -"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had -rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only -remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the -conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." - -"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. - -"I am." - -"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. - -"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of -Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." - -"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the -girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's -chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. - -"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot -yourself." - -He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed -to think better of it and fell into the clinch. - -It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. - -"Voules, you're sacked," I said. - -"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman -of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get -your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." - -"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the -presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his -preserver." - -"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" - -There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a -smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and -Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. - -"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so -happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." - -"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that -way now." - -I coughed and he turned round. - -"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. - -"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." - -"Beautiful," said Stella. - -"The moon," I said. - -"Ripping," said George. - -"Lovely," said Stella. - -"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" - -George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. - -I popped. - - - - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - - -Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean -really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, -or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly -bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my -notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty -few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the -Yeardsley "Venus." - -To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I -shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and -myself. - -When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire -family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at -Oxford with me. - -I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was -a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just -as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture -catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played -"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month -later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence -Yeardsley, an artist. - -What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the -club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I -got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the -book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me -that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the -country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, -by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I -was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to -be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it -had done. - -This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue -sky, as it were. It ran like this: - - "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of - you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old - house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. - Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be - so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you - again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. - Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. - --Yours most sincerely, - - ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. - - "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! - - "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has - ever played on. - - "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says - it is better than St. Andrews. - - "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" - -Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a -head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite -easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. - -However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he -was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must -be something special. So I went. - -Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him -for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was -glad to see me. - -"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just -about at my last grip." - -"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. - -"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere -mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be -so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" - -"Pictures?" - -"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an -artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like -when one gives her her head?" - -I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my -time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the -period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had -had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though -pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had -never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after -marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere -sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to -old Bill. - -"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a -chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" - -"A few days." - -"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there -to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was -that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me -back with a lasso." - -I tried to point out the silver lining. - -"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links -near here." - -He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. - -"You don't mean honestly she said that?" - -"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." - -"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" - -"Well, wasn't it enough?" - -"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" - -"No, she forgot to tell me that." - -"It's the worst course in Great Britain." - -I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have -got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily -allowance of golf when I'm not in London. - -I took another whirl at the silver lining. - -"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's -good." - -"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch -cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended -it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve -the thing as a billiard-table." - -"But she said you said----" - -"Must have been pulling your leg." - -We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well -back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I -couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read -about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and -hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to -know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she -had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was -what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought -me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going -to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married -women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was -nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's -father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as -she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. - -"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot -of that sort stopping here, are there?" - -"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." - -As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure -appeared. - -"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind -struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady -Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. - -"Do you mean me?" I said. - -She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same -as in the old days. - -"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid -you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come -along in and have some tea." - - * * * * * - -Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and -then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt -when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you -hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." -Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have -preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on -Clarence. - -He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His -hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore -pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells -myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, -mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. -Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. - -"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said -Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. - -"Eh?" I said. - -"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" - -While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old -gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was -an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. -Elizabeth introduced us. - -"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel -positive I heard a cat mewing." - -"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." - -"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my -nerves!" - -"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. - -"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. - -That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think -they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to -pictures. - -We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At -least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of -picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and -then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I -was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a -valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the -first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with -any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the -pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. - -"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" - -They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. -Elizabeth grabbed the paper. - -"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of -Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" - -"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" - -"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I -noticed her eyes were sparkling. - -"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been -the 'Venus'!" - -Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. - -"The 'Venus'!" he cried. - -They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the -evening's chat had made quite a hit. - -Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth -showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley -"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed -impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing -it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the -foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I -was aware of its existence. - -She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley -was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were -rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry -effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when -Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent -towards me and said, "Reggie." - -And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You -know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it -then. - -"What-o?" I said nervously. - -"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." - -"Yes?" - -She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back -to me: - -"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the -world for me?" - -There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as -a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she -would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that -sort of thing, what? - -Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. -I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't -appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who -may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to -her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction -when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man -who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. - -I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." - -"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me -everlastingly grateful." - -"Yes," I said. - -"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago -Clarence was very fond of cats?" - -"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" - -"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." - -"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" - -"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants -to get rid of something." - -"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" - -"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. - -She looked up and caught my bulging eye. - -"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. - -"Not that I remember." - -"Well, come into the dining-room." - -We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. - -"There," she said. - -On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed -it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It -was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, -you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ -noticed it. - -"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. - -She nodded. - -"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to -a meal?" - -"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry -through all right." - -She jerked her head impatiently. - -"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." - -And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't -understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old -Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It -explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, -which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send -you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're -absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped -into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a -teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and -go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, -the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. - -And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. - -It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and -that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have -known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding -present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so -far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a -professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at -the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. -He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. -He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to -look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything -rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to -store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the -picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent -that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. - -"Now you see," she said. - -"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy -weather over a trifle?" - -"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in -church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next -to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" - -She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, -or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It -was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other -one. - -Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a -dash at it. - -"Er--'Venus'?" I said. - -Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the -evidence, I mean. - -"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see -you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. -When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have -been at your club." - -This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up -to me, and put her hand on my arm. - -"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you -understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let -us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit -and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after -day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that -with Clarence. Now you see?" - -"Yes, but----" - -"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" - -"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to -do?" - -"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" - -I looked at her. - -"You want me to----?" - -"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you -see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the -idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of -the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the -last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his -feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! -One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take -his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, -Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of -the frame, and it's done." - -"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, -but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in -fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" - -"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." - -"But if I'm caught?" - -"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of -the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." - -It sounded simple enough. - -"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" - -"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." - -"But----" - -She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. - -"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." - -She looked at me. - -"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, -don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow -me?" - -"All right," I said. "I'll do it." - -I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped -in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. -If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job -I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done -when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed -easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, -and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for -one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be -pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. -I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my -knife, and slunk downstairs. - -The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the -window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of -local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. -I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, -when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have -said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. -Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and -things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling -something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that -sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" - -I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill -kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. - -"What happened?" I said. - -"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I -came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a -chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I -just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think -you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" - -"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she -had told you." - -"You don't mean----" - -"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." - -"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about -repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I -hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to -do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after -all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm -sorry." - -"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was -still on. - -"Are you feeling better now?" - -"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." - -"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this -job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made -a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on -the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." - -"Heads." - -"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the -light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." - -It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and -the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old -Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, -collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. - -"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture -of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the -thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him -a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of -Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." - -We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our -drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and -shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness -of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good -by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days -when we used to brew in my study at school. - -We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and -gripped my arm. - -"I heard something," he said. - -I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over -the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy -footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. - -"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. - -There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively -chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would -have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't -really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and -believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, -a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one -jump. - -"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." - -I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the -knife. We crept downstairs. - -"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. - -"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" - -"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. - -Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. - -Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. -And then we pulled up sharp, staring. - -The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the -near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," -holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, -was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He -had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he -stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down -in a heap together. The candle went out. - -"What on earth?" said Bill. - -I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most -fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly -collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I -could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, -it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at -me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I -saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But -we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped -short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old -Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. - -"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. -It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down -to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" - -It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among -those present. - -"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. - -"He's in bed," I said. - -"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself -on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who -sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." - -He gave a gulp. - -"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you -understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two -years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It -was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then -Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You -cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The -thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the -picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. -And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I -could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from -a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never -suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals -who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. -I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down -here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this -time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," -he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" - -I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this -time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him -straight instead of breaking it by degrees. - -"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite -understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort -of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" - -I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, -staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling -at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. - -"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have -taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My -Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, -but he had to know the truth. - -"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." - -He started, poor old chap. - -"Eh? What do you mean?" - -"They _did_ take your Venus." - -"But I have it here." - -I shook my head. - -"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. - -He jumped at it and straightened it out. - -"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own -picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can -you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" - -And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! - - * * * * * - -Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled -down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was -my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's -fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected -to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive -silence for a bit. - -"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing -Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" - -"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." - -"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving -Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to -London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how -about it?" - - - - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - -Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time -during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought -that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of -being baffled. - -Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages -for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's -more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who -was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; -philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely -on him at every turn. - -So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't -hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. - -The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was -in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the -dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower -ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and -generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first -impression was that it was some horrid dream. - -Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from -New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once -that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. -Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a -walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He -was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of -his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He -told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and -wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. - -He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a -month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three -hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there -was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in -which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to -young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, -American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things -once. It began: - - Be! - Be! - The past is dead. - To-morrow is not born. - Be to-day! - To-day! - Be with every nerve, - With every muscle, - With every drop of your red blood! - Be! - -It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of -scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, -with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said -they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four -in the afternoon for over a month. - -As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he -had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had -been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his -position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the -money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem -recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all -its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the -mantelpiece. - -And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! - -"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or -something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" - -I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped -for the bell. - -Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me -how he does it. - -"Tea, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression -of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky -was surging round with his beastly letter again. - -"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" - -"Read it!" - -"I can't. I haven't had my tea." - -"Well, listen then." - -"Who's it from?" - -"My aunt." - -At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: - -"So what on earth am I to do?" - -Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering -over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. - -"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. -Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want -your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, -and Rocky started again: - - "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a - long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been - very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made - up my mind to do now." - -"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" - -"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes -cleared at a later point in the communication." - -"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. - -"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. - - "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see - for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I - fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I - am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." - -"Sad, Jeeves, what?" - -"Extremely, sir." - -"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last -Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself -that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist -that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a -fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's -been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." - -"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of -the deer,' Jeeves?" - -"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." - -"Carry on, Rocky, dear -boy." - - "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the - city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly - thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the - Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a - certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to - enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." - -"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do -in ten years." - - "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now - I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I - have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a - firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you - quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you - live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. - I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as - I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic - life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant - supper parties. - - "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me - letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all - you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may - enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying - for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no - detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, - - "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." - -"What about it?" said Rocky. - -"What about it?" I said. - -"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" - -It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude -of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the -right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind -it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here -the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar -plexus. It amazed me. - -"Aren't you bucked?" I said. - -"Bucked!" - -"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider -this pretty soft for you." - -He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to -talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer -chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, -and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an -hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty -straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the -place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a -publicity agent for the old metrop.! - -"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have -to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole -of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to -mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. -Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because -they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I -loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got -to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral -delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than -a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" - -I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in -for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of -the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. - -"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to -share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars -and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I -suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a -ghastly notion!" - -I was shocked, absolutely shocked. - -"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. - -"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" - -"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by -the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" - -"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" - -"Three." - -"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear -the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." - -"And shirts?" - -"Four dozen, sir." - -"And white ties?" - -"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely -filled with our white ties, sir." - -I turned to Rocky. - -"You see?" - -The chappie writhed like an electric fan. - -"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on -earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't -get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put -on an old sweater?" - -I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his -finest feelings. - -"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. - -"That's what I want to know." - -"You might write and explain to your aunt." - -"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid -leaps and cut me out of her will." - -I saw his point. - -"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. - -Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. - -"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is -obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his -possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters -relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be -accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of -remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party -to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes -reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful -report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his -imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." - -Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked -at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as -I have, and he isn't on to his curves. - -"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the -start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the -idea?" - -"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. -All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you -and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. -That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a -startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. - -"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart -sort of man, a man who would notice things." - -"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." - -"But would he?" - -"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" - -For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost -smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and -for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. - -"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have -already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening -out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." - -"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She -wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, -Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will -show you the way." - -Jeeves shook his head. - -"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The -place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." - -"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." - -It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans -happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of -the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything -went absolutely right from the start. - -Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, -and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. -I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table -on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a -fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so -nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he -was making notes in a small book. - -As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond -of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was -perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his -pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to -death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to -be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it -was full of life. - -But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck -anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, -loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired -feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: - - "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. - I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The - cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's - everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, - - "BERTIE. - - "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" - -Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't -have got the confounded thing on to the second page. - -Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: - - "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving - me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems - more wonderful every day. - - "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are - magnificent!" - -Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an -authority. - - "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other - night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new - place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie - Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie - Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks - did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was - there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The - show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. - - "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" - -And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic -temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie -who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a -punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's -no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in -and congratulated him. - -"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell -you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." - -"It's just a knack, sir." - -"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, -what?" - -"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. - -And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to -say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month -after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old -bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence -like a bomb. - -It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices -that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It -was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. - -"Miss Rockmetteller!" - -And in came a large, solid female. - -The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt -much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd -come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that -it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I -stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an -attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should -have been rallying round the young master, it was now. - -Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, -except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as -a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if -put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly -regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor -old Rocky had been pulling on her. - -"Good afternoon," I managed to say. - -"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" - -"Er--no." - -"Mr. Fred Stone?" - -"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie -Wooster." - -She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean -nothing in her life. - -"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" - -She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I -couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. - -There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the -respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak -without having been spoken to. - -"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party -in the afternoon." - -"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he -say when he would be back?" - -"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in -returning." - -He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer -her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It -made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended -to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, -has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails -to make my spine curl. - -"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of -Rockmetteller's?" - -"Oh, yes, rather!" - -She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. - -"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your -own!" - -I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the -power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing -host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, -mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered -my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously -looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come -to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. - -At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being -about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old -stand-by. - -"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. - -"Tea?" - -She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. - -"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit -of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you -know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." - -I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the -evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. - -"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" - -I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve -centres had had the deuce of a shock. - -"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put -that into her head?" - -Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. - -"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my -suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from -this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good -central residence in the city." - -I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. - -"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an -intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about -here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." - -"Yes, sir." - -"It's pretty rotten, you know." - -"Most disturbing, sir." - -"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got -to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the -tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come -up by the next train." - -"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message -and dispatching it by the lift attendant." - -"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" - -"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. -Thank you." - -I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still -bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a -hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There -was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I -suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. - -"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful -silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. - -"What is a surprise?" - -"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." - -She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. - -"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. - -Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. - -"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" - -Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad -to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for -one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool -about with I felt happier. - -"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. - -It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal -more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her -out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. - -"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me -to drink this stuff?" - -"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." - -"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" - -"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." - -"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" - -I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way -that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was -brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had -had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. - -Conversation languished again after that. - -Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you -can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, -especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. - -"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. - -"At which hotel?" - -"The hotel you're staying at." - -"I am not staying at an hotel." - -"Stopping with friends--what?" - -"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." - -I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. - -"What! Here?" I gurgled. - -"Certainly! Where else should I go?" - -The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't -see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't -Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because -she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in -the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock -and produce some results when she spoke again. - -"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I -wish to lie down." - -"Your nephew's man-servant?" - -"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile -ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish -to be alone with me when he returns." - -I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for -me. I crept into Jeeves's den. - -"Jeeves!" I whispered. - -"Sir?" - -"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." - -"Very good, sir." - -"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, -and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and -keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, -and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants -you to prepare her bed." - -He looked wounded. - -"It is hardly my place, sir----" - -"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to -that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and -have to go to an hotel, what?" - -"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for -clothes?" - -"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag -when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" - -"I will endeavour to do so, sir." - -"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd -where I am when he gets here." - -"Very good, sir." - -I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. -The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive -chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. - -"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. - -"Good-bye, sir." - -And I staggered out. - - * * * * * - -You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher -Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he -has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, -you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more -sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's -misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. - -As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white -tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole -squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to -look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural -phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, -there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own -clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the -morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I -mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful -privations the poor have to stick. - -I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. -Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't -make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what -somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. - -I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but -nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go -on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the -hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've -felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as -if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I -should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang -I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end -of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. - -It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. - -"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" - -"Where are you speaking from?" - -"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a -fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a -friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life -written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and -I'm nearly crazy." - -"Tell me all, old top," I said. - -"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the -river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of -thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was -just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when -about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There -are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder -than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram -arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of -absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two -miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top -of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. -And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of -yours." - -I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky -was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. - -"You'll ruin them!" - -"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles -seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to -get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're -about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. -I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't -breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out -and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by -now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure -Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I -dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could -I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even -to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She -keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's -simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting -two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to -think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me -into it." - -"Me! What do you mean?" - -"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested -leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that -did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me -about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where -she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of -New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled -herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some -miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! -It's got to end!" - -"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" - -"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of -help that is!" - -"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is -for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a -lot of money." - -"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" - -"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying -all the expenses now, isn't she?" - -"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the -lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no -necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's -simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've -examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver -lining it's some little dissembler!" - -"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what -I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get -back to the flat." - -"Don't come near the flat." - -"But it's my own flat." - -"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you -did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said -she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless -and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget -it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. -Good-bye." - - * * * * * - -Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated -noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. - -"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your -personal belongings." - -He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. - -"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" - -"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is -a remarkably alert lady." - -"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" - -"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my -notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic -conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour -to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." - -"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." - -"We must hope for the best, sir." - -"Can't you think of anything to do?" - -"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far -without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the -light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." - -"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" - -"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the -tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case -and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." - -"You understate it, Jeeves." - -He gazed meditatively out of the window. - -"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine -who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are -much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great -city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever -the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and -spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has -broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable -her to gratify this desire." - -"I love to have these little chats with you about your female -relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me -down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got -to do with my trouble." - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on -the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I -should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." - -Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. - - * * * * * - -I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a -habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit -them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and -sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, -and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in -it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you -might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of -Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at -least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. -What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets -once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. - -New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up -just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks -began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at -Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except -the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the -ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to -see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled -for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for -myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under -the strain. - -It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took -it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to -surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless -spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I -had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the -impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York -night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a -cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the -shutters. - -The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that -I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on -the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort -of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the -chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without -disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the -proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had -helped a bit. - -For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his -aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in -again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were -something the management ought to be complained to about. - -"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, -"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good -turn if you asked me?" - -"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. - -"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest -of the evening." - -Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. - -"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" - -"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to -divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that -for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't -understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A -few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know -fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt -Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect -has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to -be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a -nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the -love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." - -I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was -sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had -lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore -Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about -rather unpleasant things. - -"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. - -"I have." - -There was something in her eye that seemed to say: - -"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" - -"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. - -And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, -bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and -then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this -wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light -of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had -gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged -home with ropes. - -It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. - -"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" - -I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't -anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with -the woman, so I went along. - -Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the -feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A -massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, -though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his -best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. - -I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his -lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something -told me that I was about to need him. - -The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the -decanter. - -"Say when, Bertie." - -"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. - -I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye -of one who sees it coming. - -"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it -there. - -"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see -a young man going to perdition!" - -Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the -whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. - -"Eh?" he said, blinking. - -The aunt proceeded. - -"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But -now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder -at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you -into contact with this wicked city." - -I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a -look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his -feelings. - -"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go -to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing -Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." - -"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. - -You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and -you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to -understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. -I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off -to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front -of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. - -The aunt gave me a withering up and down. - -"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp -having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing -men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would -have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. -He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque -phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I -first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How -often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! - -"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; -so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked -your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little -intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he -did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square -Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a -seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I -discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle -of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many -people, so I remained." - -She gulped. - -"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. -Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the -sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I -feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in -a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me -New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of -sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people -should be in bed. - -"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to -drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more -sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient -revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed -right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could -have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you -must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen -that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you -to dance in those places of wickedness?" - -Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. - -"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." - -"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is -not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. -You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find -that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour -and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, -Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the -struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" - -I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused -dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him -the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being -cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let -go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. - -"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" - -"Yes." - -"Not to live in the country?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller." - -"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New -York?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there -can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will -you--for my sake?" - -Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement -from that table. - -"I will!" he said. - - * * * * * - -"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying -in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just -come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour -before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was -the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like -home--what?" - -"Very true, sir." - -"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -I lit another cigarette. - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were -baffled." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? -It was pure genius!" - -"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I -was thinking of my aunt, sir." - -"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" - -"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks -coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always -found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her -mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might -prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." - -I was stunned by the man's resource. - -"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, -Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat -a lot of fish, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born -that way there's no use worrying." - -"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I -should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you -a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the -red domino pattern instead, sir." - -"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Wodehouse - -Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] -Release Date: May, 2005 -[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] -Last Updated: August 30, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team - - - - - - - - - - -MY MAN JEEVES - - - - -BY P. G. WODEHOUSE - -1919 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - -ABSENT TREATMENT - -HELPING FREDDIE - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - - - -LEAVE IT TO JEEVES - - -Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. -Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's -like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements -at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know -the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train -for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to -think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're -right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of -omniscience. - -As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond -Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I -felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address -of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the -hour. - -"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one -of Mr. Byng's." - -"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." - -"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." - -"Unsuitable for you, sir." - -Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came -home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I -nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a -music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in -absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and -that's all there is to it. - -But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, -though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows -everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." -I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, -red-hot tabasco. - -"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good -turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on -Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" - -He shook his head. - -"I'd rather not, sir." - -"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." - -"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second -place is what the stable is after." - -Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know -anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till -he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and -nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. - -"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. -From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." - -"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." - -And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean -would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, -don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with -Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, -when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to -ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. - -"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. - -I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my -cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square -way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I -left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to -stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got -the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound -scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and -having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out -to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm -bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody -was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going -on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced -me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before -I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses -up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly -around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy -coves. - -Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, -but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines -with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the -game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the -thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people -come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until -you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a -chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture -for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got -a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the -advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived -from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in -the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's -apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had -made quite an indecently large stack out of it. - -Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty -soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle -was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was -fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, -however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had -no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the -way the above Worple used to harry him. - -Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't -think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to -chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and -work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with -him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what -Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom -of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too -beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an -artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by -using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to -cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. - -He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple -was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the -American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. -When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he -just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start -being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was -what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called -_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More -American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that -he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds -gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let -him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked -with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so -these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the -time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the -frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when -broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. - -To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of -extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that -Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction -on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I -should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. - -So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl -in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancee, Miss -Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the -one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke -were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" - -The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking -anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but -can't think what the deuce to do with the body. - -"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you -might suggest a way of breaking it to him." - -Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a -way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were -the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it -yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me -as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man -isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of -feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, -little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was -nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those -innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your -system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out -to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to -tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, -you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and -dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I -felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. - -"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said -to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." - -Corky declined to cheer up. - -"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. -That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of -principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had -gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he -would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." - -I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. - -"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance -without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" - -"But how can I work it that way?" - -I saw his point. That was the catch. - -"There's only one thing to do," I said. - -"What's that?" - -"Leave it to Jeeves." - -And I rang the bell. - -"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy -things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very -seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies -in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in -a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they -want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he -says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite -bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh -of animals slain in anger and pie. - -The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful -attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost -child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him -that gave me confidence. - -Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye -gleams with the light of pure intelligence. - -"Jeeves, we want your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. - -"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way -by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting -on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, try to think of something." - -"I have thought of something already, sir." - -"You have!" - -"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may -seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial -outlay." - -"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an -idea, but it's going to cost a bit." - -Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the -whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting -gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. - -"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only -too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." - -"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's -attachment to ornithology." - -"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" - -"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite -unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the -flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. -Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I -have mentioned." - -"Oh! Well?" - -"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let -us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it -to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, -sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to -eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the -same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy -to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in -which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one -to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired -result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." - -I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage -when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had -betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me -down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to -hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's -brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. - -"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -The girl made an objection. - -"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even -write good letters." - -"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the -direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of -our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will -receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose -your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both -feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency -to kick like a steer." - -I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family -when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the -recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and -the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it -is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but -uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, -legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. - -But Jeeves had a solution, of course. - -"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious -author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for -a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should -appear on the title page." - -"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred -dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand -words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different -names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. -I'll get after him right away." - -"Fine!" - -"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent -fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number -now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while -a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real -work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the -old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny -book came along. - -I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The -Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was -there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang -at the door and the parcel was delivered. - -It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some -species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened -a copy at random. - -"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as -you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, -carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are -older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful -book--_American Birds_." - -You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later -there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed -cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap -who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. -I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the -world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a -certain disposition towards chumminess in him. - -"It's a cert!" I said. - -"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. - -And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to -tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so -dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. -Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author -of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would -be delighted to make her acquaintance. - -Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had -invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for -several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been -wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out -right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop -into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel -inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by -herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out -telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. - -"Well, well, well, what?" I said. - -"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" - -"Corky around?" - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" - -"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." - -It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a -kind of thingummy, you know. - -"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" - -"A row?" - -"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both -sides--er--and all that sort of thing." - -"Why, whatever makes you think that?" - -"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually -dined with him before you went to the theatre." - -"I've left the stage now." - -Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time -I had been away. - -"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" - -"Yes." - -"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." - -"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is -a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." - -I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of -healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he -looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. - -"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of -Bruce's, Alexander." - -The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from -hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. - -"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you -would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this -playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I -noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be -introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. -Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the -pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you -dined?" - -I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I -wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. - -When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I -called him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid -of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of -news for you." - -He came back with a tray and a long glass. - -"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." - -"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." - -"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You -remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by -writing the book on birds?" - -"Perfectly, sir." - -"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." - -He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. - -"That was always a development to be feared, sir." - -"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" - -"It crossed my mind as a possibility." - -"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" - -"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." - -Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer -frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to -it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a -cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the -same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky -again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of -soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few -months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was -beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather -up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the -healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on -it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple -had presented her husband with a son and heir. - -I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to -touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled -over. Absolutely. It was the limit. - -I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to -Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and -then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the -touch. I gave it him in waves. - -But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it -was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this -just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I -pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his -bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I -bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the -studio. - -I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting -away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle -age, holding a baby. - -A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. - -"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. - -Corky looked over his shoulder. - -"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will -be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby -and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. - -"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" - -"Yes, please." - -"Good afternoon." - -"Good afternoon." - -Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and -began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for -granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as -awkward as it might have been. - -"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The -portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes -the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. -If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted -with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a -portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in -and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it -rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into -the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit -me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't -refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my -allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I -suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a -patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted -him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front -page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are -moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist -Beans Baby With Axe.'" - -I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was -too deep for words. - -I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't -seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm -bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally -of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. - -But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. - -"Bertie." - -"Halloa?" - -"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" - -"Nothing special." - -"You couldn't come down here, could you?" - -"What's the trouble? Anything up?" - -"I've finished the portrait." - -"Good boy! Stout work!" - -"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it -doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's -coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but -I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" - -I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The -sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. - -"You think he'll cut up rough?" - -"He may." - -I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the -restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too -easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. - -"I'll come," I said. - -"Good!" - -"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" - -"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves -is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" - -"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of -yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a -den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." - -"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang -for Jeeves, and explained the situation. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. - -We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up -in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. - -"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, -tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" - -The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good -look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I -went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite -so bad from there. - -"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. - -I hesitated a bit. - -"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a -moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I -remember rightly?" - -"As ugly as that?" - -I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. - -"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." - -Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort -of way. He groaned. - -"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned -thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked -that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of -the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put -the child's soul on canvas." - -"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how -he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" - -"I doubt it, sir." - -"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" - -"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. - -"I don't see how one could help noticing." - -"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. -But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." - -"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in -the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't -you think so, Jeeves?" - -"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." - -Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle -came in. - -For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy -shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't -think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his -stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't -notice him. - -"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really -finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a -wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" - -And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he -rocked back on his heels. - -"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the -scaliest silences I've ever run up against. - -"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about -sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. - -I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. - -"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. - -"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far -away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on -Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk -of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and -my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a -house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a -competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured -supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail -and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this -foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for -idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report -at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and -start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you -should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another -cent--not another--Boosh!" - -Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out -of the bombproof shelter. - -"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. - -Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was -a hunted look in his eye. - -"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. - -"What are you going to do?" - -"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You -heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." - -I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about -the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It -was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just -been sentenced to twenty years in quod. - -And then a soothing voice broke the silence. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" - -It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at -the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the -shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by -saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves -was there. - -"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby -Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? -He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite -saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him -use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which -he promoted." - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" - -"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects -a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he -did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of -Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. -It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a -billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial -fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage -for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks -into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always -a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In -the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a -coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable -one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a -likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly -consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. -Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been -for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold -and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly -popular." - -Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking -noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. - -And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. - -"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor -blighter was hysterical. - -He began to stagger about all over the floor. - -"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! -You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on -Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I -feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the -_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the -other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me -anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. -Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded -hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" - -Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal -muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to -smiling. - -"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the -series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" - -Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. -Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. - -"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished -looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an -optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with -Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest -before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the -swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for -instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the -eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the -neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" - -"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, -sir. Extremely diverting." - -"They have made a big hit, you know." - -"I anticipated it, sir." - -I leaned back against the pillows. - -"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a -commission on these things." - -"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has -been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." - -"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"But I rather fancy myself in it." - -"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." - -"Oh, all right, have it your own way." - -"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." - -Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is -always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? - - - - -JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST - - -I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's -Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that -it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and -more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up -behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. -It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy -matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned -up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. - -It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from -under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of -fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had -asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you -know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming -a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much -mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's -judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when -he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like -a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in -the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who -was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but -the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John -Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by -another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after -a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how -things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of -manly and independent. - -Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for -breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and -sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and -opened the door an inch. - -"What ho without there!" - -"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. - -"Eh?" - -"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." - -"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for -I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well -there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be -when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" - -"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean -liner at an early hour this morning." - -This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had -arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at -some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a -foreign shore considerably before eight. - -"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" - -"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." - -"Is she alone?" - -"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his -lordship would be her ladyship's son." - -"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." - -"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." - -"Then lead me to it." - -While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern -could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and -was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. - -"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left -London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on -social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." - -"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" - -"Eh?" - -"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" - -It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather -a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work -the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. - -"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. -Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" - -"Too ornate, sir." - -"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." - -"Unsuitable, sir." - -"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" - -"Very good, sir." - -Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was -firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into -the sitting-room. - -"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" - -"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I -think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." - -Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed -female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet -from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as -if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing -arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging -eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about -fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb -a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and -had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say -how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would -wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. - -Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. -He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered -down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't -bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the -struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any -eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. - -"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a -long stay in America?" - -"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure -and call on you." - -I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to -come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, -when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie -from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you -that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only -married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, -you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I -simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find -that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to -make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked -America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my -natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone -to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I -braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the -assemblage. - -"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be -of assistance to us." - -"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" - -"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little -while." - -I didn't get this for a moment. - -"Put him up? For my clubs?" - -"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty -darling?" - -Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. - -"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. - -"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have -him to live with you while I am away." - -These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply -didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave -Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling -the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on -me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't -you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board -at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle -into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, -rolling placidly over me, as it were. - -There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. - -"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to -Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in -America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, -visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I -am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, -_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write -a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend -more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, -but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my -dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ -after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with -me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall -have to pick him up on my return." - -From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the -breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I -felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of -putting a stop to this woman. - -"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. -Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear -Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the -country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He -will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as -if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped -chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. -"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give -him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you -so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your -help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before -my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my -information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and -take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. -Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." - -They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. - -"Jeeves! What about it?" - -"Sir?" - -"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the -dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." - -"Pill, sir?" - -"The excrescence." - -"I beg your pardon, sir?" - -I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was -as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I -understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to -get his own back. - -"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said -coldly. - -"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." - -I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any -sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a -moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he -didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I -was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! - -But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a -pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the -more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty -out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt -Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or -later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to -get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a -stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the -fellow up and make the best of it. - -About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel -of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw -it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough -in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more -cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, -and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch -with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with -excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, -the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost -forgotten blighted Motty's existence. - -I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't -till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of -Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. - -It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still -there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after -seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. - -Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the -chappie's manner that he was still upset. - -"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and -what-not. - -"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." - -"Not returned? What do you mean?" - -"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, -went out again." - -At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of -scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the -woodwork. Then a sort of thud. - -"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He went out and came back again. - -"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able -to carry him in." - -"Carry him in?" - -"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." - -I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up -outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. - -"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. -"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" - -"Sir?" - -"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or -something. Call up a doctor!" - -"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his -lordship's legs, while I----" - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" - -"I am inclined to think so, sir." - -And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't -mistake it. Motty was under the surface. - -It was the deuce of a shock. - -"You never can tell, Jeeves!" - -"Very seldom, sir." - -"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" - -"It would seem so, sir." - -"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette -and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It -seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. - -Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went -into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a -wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading -Gingery stories. - -"What ho!" I said. - -"What ho!" said Motty. - -"What ho! What ho!" - -"What ho! What ho! What ho!" - -After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. - -"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. - -"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, -that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most -frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy -dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own -invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one -of the ones!" - -I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and -sucked his stick the day before. - -"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I -said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. -But he wouldn't have it, at any price. - -"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too -much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm -going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see -me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on -the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the -defect." - -"But I say, you know, what about me?" - -"What about you?" - -"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I -mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in -the soup somewhat." - -"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old -thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to -yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great -city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so -bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my -eyes open and collect impressions." - -I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. - -"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if -my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But -duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean -to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with -life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" - -Put like that, it did seem reasonable. - -"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in -the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've -been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The -only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught -sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about -it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up -a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only -chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old -sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent -chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to -discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" - - * * * * * - -I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close -to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a -damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was -being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye -he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him -along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful -sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand -the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I -mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I -think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled -eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing -are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all -over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when -you want to sit still and digest. - -Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made -up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about -with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once -when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had -to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ -for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie -peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. - -In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about -four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over -about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. -I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no -denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of -Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded -Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of -the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to -get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and -sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and -putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber -next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose -weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest -word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. - -And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man -was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't -rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the -pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. - -"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" - -"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. - -"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the -principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha -is!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well, then." - -I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. - -"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping -with this blighter?" - -"No, sir." - -And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, -don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that -Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much -admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he -left me flat. - -It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing -pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. -This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of -town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. -I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the -evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who -frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. -That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The -neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian -dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere -wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a -collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song -when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked -peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was -extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of -soothing. - -The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place -which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty -there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch -on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared -hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an -extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped -backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall -just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" - -"That would be Rollo, sir." - -"Eh?" - -"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come -in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet -settled down." - -"Who the deuce is Rollo?" - -"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, -and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will -go in and switch on the light." - -There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the -sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without -a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such -that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down -as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his -paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have -been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all -worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me -where he had left off. - -"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally -quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." - -"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." - -"No, sir." - -"Well, what am I to do?" - -"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will -learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." - -"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I -intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that -one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all -right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and -stop with Mr. Todd in the country." - -"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" - -"No." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." - -"Yes, sir." - - * * * * * - -As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I -went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the -wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing -goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a -few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New -York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. -The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't -get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you -have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I -thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they -have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I -went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked -round cautiously for Rollo. - -"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" - -"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the -porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal -on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." - -I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had -misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a -lot of intelligence in him. - -"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Do you expect him back to dinner?" - -"No, sir." - -"Where is he?" - -"In prison, sir." - -Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? -That's how I felt then. - -"In prison!" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You don't mean--in prison?" - -"Yes, sir." - -I lowered myself into a chair. - -"Why?" I said. - -"He assaulted a constable, sir." - -"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" - -"Yes, sir." - -I digested this. - -"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" - -"Sir?" - -"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" - -"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." - -"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." - -"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out -by then." - -"But supposing it hasn't?" - -"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." - -"How?" - -"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that -his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." - -"Why Boston?" - -"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." - -"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." - -"I fancy so, sir." - -"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this -hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a -sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." - -"Exactly, sir." - -The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze -seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what -the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have -pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I -reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a -small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick -at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. -Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. -Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that -I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty -existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was -still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, -but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was -tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There -was a kind of grieved look in his eye. - -And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't -been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping -along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea -and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement -that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few -garments round me and went in. - -There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as -ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she -had done the first time. - -"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" - -"I have got back." - -There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had -swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she -probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that -I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a -fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've -engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. - -"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" - -"I have not yet breakfasted." - -"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or -something?" - -"No, thank you." - -She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for -the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. - -"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." - -"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" - -"Extremely, thank you." - -"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old -Grand Canyon, and what-not?" - -"I saw a great deal." - -There was another slightly _frappe_ silence. Jeeves floated -silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. - -"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" - -I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. - -"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." - -"You were his constant companion, then?" - -"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you -know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of -lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred -concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually -played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing -sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to -Boston." - -"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" - -"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where -you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, -don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. -Yes, Motty went off to Boston." - -"You're sure he went to Boston?" - -"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in -the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't -change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" - -"No, sir." - -"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." - -"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went -yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material -for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, -seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" - -I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has -to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like -this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar -and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, -because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my -system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling -it up, and now it came out with a rush: - -"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! -So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, -thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to -you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to -the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" - -I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of -Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the -hatchet against my return. - -"You deliberately----" - -Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: - -"If I might explain, your ladyship." - -Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized -on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't -do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. - -"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and -that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when -his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that -his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had -given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a -friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till -your ladyship informed him." - -Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. - -"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is -so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, -so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away -for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that -his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, -but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." - -"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore -went to prison voluntarily?" - -"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's -parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently -heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow -your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's -book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his -lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was -doing so little to help." - -"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. - -"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of -the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one -night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." - -Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I -could see her struggling with the thing. - -"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose -that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own -volition than that he committed some breach of the law which -necessitated his arrest?" - -Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. - -"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I -should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his -pure, fine spirit." - -"Absolutely!" I said. - -"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. - -I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. - -"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that -blighter into riotous living." - -"I fancy you are right, sir." - -I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, -by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that -this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I -hesitated. Then I made up my mind. - -"Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -"That pink tie!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Burn it!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"And, Jeeves!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" - -"Thank you very much, sir." - -I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and -all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the -novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and -decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other -things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. - -"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would -like?" - -"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." - -"Fifty dollars?" - -"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his -lordship." - -"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" - -"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship -was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable -method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship -was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me -for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering -him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the -eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." - -I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. - -"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, -you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" - -"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. - - - - -JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG - - -Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup -of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting -out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do -if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad -now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There -used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak -him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered -him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's -got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to -look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry -eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! - -The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot -it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. - -I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. -And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself -on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances -knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, -of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. - -It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to -the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink -he said: - -"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were -out." - -"Oh?" I said. - -"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." - -"What, pipped?" - -"He gave that impression, sir." - -I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a -matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss -freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained -between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on -anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You -see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this -had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, -and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval -till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while -there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is -absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was -getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my -costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the -time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my -pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim -on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old -bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. - -"He said that he would call again later, sir." - -"Something must be up, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a -good deal, so I chucked it. - -"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on -the _Carmantic_." - -"Yes?" - -"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." - -This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one -knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species -of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my -arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I -rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in -fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so -we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort -in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and -what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily -gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though -we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him -was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the -strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. - -"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? -Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who -married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." - -Jeeves knows everything. - -"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Leave any money?" - -"No, sir." - -I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the -rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I -mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but -the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy -old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was -notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American -chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left -him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old -duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was -hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. -He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on -principle. - -At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. - -"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky -came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. - -"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. -Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the -trouble, Bicky?" - -"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." - -"Say on, old lad!" - -"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." - -"So Jeeves told me." - -Bicky seemed a bit surprised. - -"Jeeves seems to know everything." - -"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." - -"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out -of the hole I'm in." - -Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the -table. - -"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you -to rally round." - -"Very good, sir." - -Bicky looked a bit doubtful. - -"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit -private and all that." - -"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it -already. Don't you, Jeeves?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. - -"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact -that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York -instead of in Colorado?" - -Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. - -"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" - -"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He -informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on -the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." - -Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. - -"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try -to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I -was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a -remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of -the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they -call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't -fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, -and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the -scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that -remittance." - -"I get you absolutely, dear boy." - -"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, -so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I -cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business -wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back -that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm -doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you -know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" - -"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" - -"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was -coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always -given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I -can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." - -"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. - -"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you -prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" - -"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." - -"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. -Bickersteth----" - -"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, -and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast -that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of -course." - -"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this -flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was -the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I -was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be -residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would -occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this -answer satisfactorily, sir." - -Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed -sort of way. - -"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace -on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. -Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. -Will that meet the situation, sir?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Thank you, sir." - -Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. - -"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it -is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you -ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the -back!" - - * * * * * - -I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present -when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean -liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much -after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was -leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. -It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish -he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in -general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down -below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out -and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could -make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York -to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of -London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy -said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and -the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. - -"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir?" - -"That'll be him at the door now." - -Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy -crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. - -"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of -sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must -have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of -Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. -Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." - -Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. - -"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" - -"Absolutely." - -"It must be terribly expensive." - -"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." - -He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at -it to restore his tissues, and nodded. - -"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight -shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look -round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how -much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" - -"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." - -"What! Forty pounds a month!" - -I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the -scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was -thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew -of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, -for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as -an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most -pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. - -"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York -often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you -wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. -Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, -when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite -different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in -commercial circles as quite the nib!" - -"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" - -"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and -Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. -"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads -elsewhere." - -Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. - -"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" - -"He's upstairs now, having some tea." - -"What does he think of it all?" - -"He's absolutely rattled." - -"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See -you later." - -"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." - -He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the -club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and -going down the other. - -It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for -dinner. - -"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering -about the place. "Gone out?" - -"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. -Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective -was Grant's Tomb." - -"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are -going--what?" - -"Sir?" - -"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." - -"Not altogether, sir." - -"What's his trouble now?" - -"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth -and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, -sir." - -"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in -business, and all that sort of thing?" - -"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. -Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth -is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary -assistance." - -"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." - -"Somewhat disturbing, sir." - -"I never expected anything like this!" - -"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." - -"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" - -"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." - -My heart bled for Bicky. - -"We must do something, Jeeves." - -"Yes, sir." - -"Can you think of anything?" - -"Not at the moment, sir." - -"There must be something we can do." - -"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I -mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there -is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the -occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his -title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting -failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another -name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have -generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No -doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's -difficulty, sir." - -"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" - -"I will spare no pains, sir." - -I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was -when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a -dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time -than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill -of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. - -When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, -hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette -hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare -in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the -newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." - -"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. - -He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact -that it hadn't anything in it. - -"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. - -He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. - -"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money -was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been -reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can -make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars -and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a -hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every -day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep -of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every -seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. -Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have -more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep -in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd -make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get -quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair -at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no -good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." - -"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." - -"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." - -That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend -money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it -to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift -the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled -tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the -second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along -Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my -neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've -simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a -hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight -and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his -uppers, not taking any at any price. - -"Well, there's only one hope, then." - -"What's that?" - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of -shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting -in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you -look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little -uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. -He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves -now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my -tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. - -"Did you call, sir?" - -"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" - -"Precisely, sir." - -"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" - -"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have -found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a -liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's -potentialities as a source of revenue." - -Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, -mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, -rather like a gargle. - -"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of -inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of -regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say -so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." - -Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't -get it myself. - -"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" - -"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a -prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you -are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent -personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might -know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two -dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including -handshake, to his grace." - -Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. - -"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid -cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" - -"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for -bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave -her social standing among the neighbours." - -Bicky wavered. - -"If you think it could be done----" - -"I feel convinced of it, sir." - -"What do you think, Bertie?" - -"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." - -"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." - -And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. - -Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making -proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock -Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays -I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market -opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened -quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest -the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the -week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper -down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in -sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of -light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money -down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, -owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to -kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me -the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things -take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as -a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. - -The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it -hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of -his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever -met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room -one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was -something doing. - -"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" - -"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." - -"Sir?" - -"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." - -"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." - -"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" - -"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." - -I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. - -"Birdsburg?" - -"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." - -"How did you get them?" - -"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be -absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into -conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. -I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his -buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for -Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a -gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the -auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to -inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming -a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if -Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was -purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at -some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. -It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and -pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had -shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to -broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I -have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention -shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." - -I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. - -"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" - -"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms -finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." - -I thought a bit. - -"Payable in advance?" - -"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not -successful." - -"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. -Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect -anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" - -"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not -bright." - -"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some -money." - -"Yes, sir." - -"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Right-o!" - -"Very good, sir." - -When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told -him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the -sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic -section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. - -"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? -I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you -know." - -The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. - -"There will be no reporters among them?" - -"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" - -"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive -young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while -the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this -persecution again." - -"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man -in the place." - -"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your -friends." - -"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" - -"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules -of civilized intercourse." - -Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, -where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. - -After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg -contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal -round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very -decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn -it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We -settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, -each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the -duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up -Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted -with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the -Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out -some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we -thanked him. - -Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the -cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every -respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth -up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and -what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of -apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be -brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. - -"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. - -The old boy seemed a bit rattled. - -"I have never been to Birdsburg." - -The chappie seemed pained. - -"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in -the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" - -"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. - -The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. - -"Say!" - -He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins -and a cold eye. - -The assemblage looked at him. - -"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not -questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict -business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on -record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." - -"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. - -"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but -there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here -says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're -the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read -English novels, and I know all about it." - -"This is monstrous!" - -"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to -know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should -see that we get our money's worth." - -The water-supply cove chipped in: - -"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the -agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to -reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here -a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want -to know----" - -Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the -water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. - -"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite -politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." - -"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens -of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands -with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my -friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. -Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are -the Duke of Chiswick at all." - -Old Chiswick gulped. - -"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that -I am the Duke of Chiswick." - -"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we -wanted to know. Let the thing go on." - -"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am -feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." - -"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at -this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." - -"I fear I must disappoint them." - -"But in that case the deal would have to be off." - -"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." - -The chappie seemed troubled. - -"You really won't meet the rest of them?" - -"No!" - -"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." - -They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick -turned to Bicky: - -"Well?" - -Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. - -"Was it true what that man said?" - -"Yes, uncle." - -"What do you mean by playing this trick?" - -Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. - -"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." - -Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: - -"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of -money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if -you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every -day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five -cents. - -"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" - -"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a -substantial business man." - -"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. -"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance -of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly -in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the -ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." - -Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. - -"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your -financial status!" - -"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He -doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot -stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think -it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" - -"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a -penny!" - -"But----" - -"Not a penny!" - -There was a respectful cough in the background. - -"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" - -Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. - -"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. - -"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a -little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might -secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this -afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and -enterprising newspapers." - -"By Jove!" I said. - -"By George!" said Bicky. - -"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. - -"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. - -Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. - -"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. -They eat that sort of stuff." - -Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. - -"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" - -"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't -get the money any other way----" - -"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange -something." - -"I won't go to that bally ranch." - -"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a -moment suggest it. I--I think----" - -He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, -on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I -might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to -utilize your services in some secretarial position." - -"I shouldn't mind that." - -"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in -English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" - -"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred -quid a year, paid quarterly." - -"My dear boy!" - -"Absolutely!" - -"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled -opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to -accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, -you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." - -"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, -that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. -It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens -has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen -chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's -a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. -Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till -they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a -future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" - -A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be -resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. - -"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." - -"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to -celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best -efforts." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It beats me how you do it." - -"Yes, sir." - -"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" - -"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify -his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to -assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position -to do so." - -"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" - -"Sir?" - -It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. - -"Bring my shaving things." - -A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. - -"You mean, sir?" - -"And shave off my moustache." - -There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. - -"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped -off. - - - - -ABSENT TREATMENT - - -I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most -interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but -I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. -If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; -and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a -girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. - -If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be -surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for -the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who -have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised -when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. - -In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most -pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called -me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it -came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap -was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him -a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him -a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before -the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to -see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. -By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town -before my messenger arrived. - -The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. -Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, -once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that -stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. - -At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't -occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; -that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup -chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still -doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like -that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, -as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out -things. - -She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave -about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her -living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life -there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a -girl who works for her living. - -Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she -had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those -determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself -up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and -rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't -been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to -the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. - -Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he -introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my -name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. -My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He -left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but -I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a -girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being -an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat -for years. - -Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come -to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the -greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she -thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about -her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie -didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being -quite happy. - -Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't -really start till then. - -They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite -a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be -running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I -thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There -were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. - -But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here -that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. - -I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back -to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting -myself under police protection, I went. - -When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell -you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and -crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And -she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to -describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this -was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were -dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked -domesticity. - -"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have -a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it -up now--what?" - -She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned -scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little -laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree -about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. - -"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at -me. - -And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She -talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on -the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly -little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of -thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was -working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and -that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and -everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've -sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the -rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and -got away. - -Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie -at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely -gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. - -He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to -about it. - -"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. - -I didn't exactly. - -"About a year, isn't it?" - -"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" - -Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. - -"Yesterday was----?" - -"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the -Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. -I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through -dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd -forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" - -"Till your wife mentioned it?" - -He nodded---- - -"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. - -I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be -angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, -they aren't half-hearted about it. - -"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken -sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." - -There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat -there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the -window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and -watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then -walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an -instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a -certain stratum of sense. - - * * * * * - -It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem -of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in -one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; -but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the -average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable -mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently -through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a -chump of the first water. - -And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And -Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like -dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork -disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him -against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. -Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might -cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I -had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my -life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I -forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. - -For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet -little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read -somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to -Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big -enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. -Pretty soon he was back at the old game. - -It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was -frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew -it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married -one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's -married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to -do it now, before he began to drift away. - -I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he -was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't -remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was -something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a -book. - -"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she -knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about -everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." - -He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a -couple of sovereigns. - -"Oh, by the way," he said. - -"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. - -"I owe it you." - -"How's that?" I said. - -"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were -playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, -and Murray beat him by twenty odd." - -"So you do remember some things?" I said. - -He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter -who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after -knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. - -"Subside, laddie," I said. - -Then I spoke to him like a father. - -"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull -yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're -due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to -make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, -even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've -got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included -in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." - -"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks -such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot -what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the -cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a -memorizing freak at the halls." - -"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear -that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be -trouble." - -He chewed the knob of his stick. - -"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. - -"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. - - * * * * * - -I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing -in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, -and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But -no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. -I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to -anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. -If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the -only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After -that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. -But I thought a lot about him. - -Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, -and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a -kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had -been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that -he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the -thorax. - -I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out -over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and -down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed -Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, -waving a piece of paper in his hand. - -"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" - -"Gone!" I said. "Who?" - -"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" - -"Where?" I said. - -Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly -foamed at the mouth. - -"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." - -He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. - -"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." - -So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, -but it was all to the point. This is what it said: - - "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me - to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will - come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." - -I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" - -"Why don't I what?" - -"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to -ask." - -"But she says on her birthday." - -"Well, when is her birthday?" - -"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." - -"Forgotten!" I said. - -"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." - -"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the -twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" - -"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the -thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." - -"Think." - -"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've -been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." - -"And you can't remember?" - -"No." - -I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. - -"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an -untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes -and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's -birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know -enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his -deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself -out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For -instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What -sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." - -Bobbie shook his head. - -"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." - -"Warm?" - -"Warmish." - -"Or cold?" - -"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." - -I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young -Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An -invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without -which no home is complete." - -Bobbie seemed to be thinking. - -"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on -her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the -date when it was bought, and the thing's done." - -"Absolutely. What did you give her?" - -He sagged. - -"I can't remember," he said. - -Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's -as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever -had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did -it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the -undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a -brain-wave. - -Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? -There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, -your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. -Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we -found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the -month, and narrow it down a whole lot. - -A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied -out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. -As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we -saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, -but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly -hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December -people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." -Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite -extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born -with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed -up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful -memories"--Mary's speciality. - -We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. - -Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that -month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a -happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women -"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and -expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was -about as like Mary as anything could be. - -In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went -home. - -It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old -Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It -represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the -middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that -is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had -a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think -in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his -brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow -human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was -all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these -brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all -over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would -only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the -idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. - -I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he -came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I -never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. - -One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see -that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. - -"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I -shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went -together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" - -"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" - -"Why, they change the programme every week there." - -"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." - -"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's -Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing -it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this -minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out -of them, if I have to use a crowbar." - -So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like -brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the -pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. - -"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me -another time." - -"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." - -And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. - -Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. -I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It -was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. - -"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. -We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." - -"Yes?" I said. - -"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have -been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." - -"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." - -I heard him give a sort of howl. - -"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. - -"Well?" - -"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the -Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to -bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." - -"But I'm always writing cheques." - -"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up -your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the -Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." - -He gave a kind of gulp. - -"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe -you've got it. Hold the line." - -Presently he came back again. - -"Halloa!" he said. - -"I'm here," I said. - -"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" - -"Topping," I said. "Good night." - -It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as -well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel -near the Strand. - -"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. - -"It's late," said the man at the other end. - -"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." - -I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had -frozen hard, but I was past regrets. - -"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. - -"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that -particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." - -"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" - -"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." - -She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must -be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't -you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about -my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. - -"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" - -"No." - -Well, I hadn't. - -"Mr. Pepper." - -"Yes?" - -"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" - -I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the -party. - -"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. -He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has -started out to worry after breakfast, and----" - -Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should -pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the -wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, -don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she -bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in -that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it -means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. - -And then she began. - -"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and -see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from -you would have put everything right, I can't----" - -"But----" - -"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most -unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a -kind-hearted man." - -"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" - -"I thought it hateful, abominable." - -"But you said it was absolutely top----" - -"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't -wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to -be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to -separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by -gloating over his agony----" - -"But----!" - -"When one single word would have----" - -"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. - -"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to -break your promise?" - -I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the -receiver, and crawled into bed. - - * * * * * - -I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit -the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing -invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes -went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And -as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself -together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I -am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: -"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every -minute." - - - - -HELPING FREDDIE - - -I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but -I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at -literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give -the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all -right. - -Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for -years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him -sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and -generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I -was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and -soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of -thing. - -Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes -plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to -question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the -matter was. - -As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with -Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the -engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently -she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused -to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. - -I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once -in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact -that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my -autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. - -"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to -Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the -twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." - -"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I -knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl -wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; -suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never -answered at all." - -But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had -swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to -Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. - -Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a -fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day -there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll -out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on -the wounds and go to bed. - -It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze -sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a -rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round -waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers -the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. - -Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I -began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: -for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write -home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the -carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one -finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't -play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would -blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. - -He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. - -"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." - -"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" - -"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the -doorway. She cut me!" - -He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. - -"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go -away." - -"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that -could have happened. This is where you come out strong." - -"She cut me." - -"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." - -"She looked clean through me!" - -"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. -I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her -under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly -thanking you. What you want----" - -"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" - -I thought for a moment. - -"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. - -"I can't swim," said Freddie. - -That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a -thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. - -He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. - -I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. -There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear -old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in -happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a -backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a -man of enterprise. - -Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring -like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it -was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs -of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. -She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. -On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the -girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced -that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had -been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about -the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't -think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one -of those round, bulging kids. - -After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and -began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling -sweets at a stall. And I walked on. - -Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I -don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been -chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least -expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. -I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a -single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. - -It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, -when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. -The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in -sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought -the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of -the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was -her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young -heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully -anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly -appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the -effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and -practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make -her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid -and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of -reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by -George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. - -Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine -points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him -down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if -you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and -poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. - -"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? -What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" - -The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I -raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right -stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the -stuff. - -"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. -After a while it began to strike him. - -"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said -handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." - -And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to -scour the beach for Angela. - -I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie -that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again -made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was -leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down -the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still -with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. - -"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" - -"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow -laughs. - -"Well, then----?" - -Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. - -"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. - -"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the -beach. She had never seen him before in her life." - -"What! Who is he, then?" - -"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll -probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for -kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you -through the bars." - -"Tell me all, old boy," I said. - -It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the -middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered -gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he -told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually -call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of -way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping -stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had -crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. - -"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it -at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find -the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." - - * * * * * - -By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal -kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to -restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how -kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, -but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from -the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself -in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought -to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, -and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. - -I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody -answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody -came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way -that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I -wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from -somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" - -I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and -west of it, staring down from an upper window. - -"Hi!" it shouted again. - -"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. - -"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" - -"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you -Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." - -"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" - -The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face -reappeared. - -"Hi!" - -I churned the gravel madly. - -"Do you live here?" said the face. - -"I'm staying here for a few weeks." - -"What's your name?" - -"Pepper. But----" - -"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" - -"My uncle. But----" - -"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him -now." - -"I wish you were," I said. - -He beamed down at me. - -"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to -do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles -has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of -infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most -fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate -to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any -nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take -Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written -to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few -days." - -"May!" - -"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a -week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. -Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." - -"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a -bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to -escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. - -I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. - -The window flew up again. - -"Hi!" - -A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a -bomb. - -"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed -it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's -Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a -little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." - -My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. -Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat -from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. - -As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. - -The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at -her and said, "Wah!" - -The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. - -"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you -again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this -morning," she said to me. - -This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered -lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded -good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my -breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. - -I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out -what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more -manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his -head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he -began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, -dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such -expressions. - -"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, -why don't you say something?" - -"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"What can we do about it?" - -"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." - -He got up. - -"I'm going back to London," he said. - -"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you -desert a pal at a time like this?" - -"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." - -"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize -that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You -wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we -were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." - -He sat down again. - -"Oh, well," he said resignedly. - -"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you -know?" - -He looked at me in a curious way. - -"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good -deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." - -Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that -crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the -local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically -incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty -satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having -undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there -were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. - -Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew -what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere -matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I -stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which -might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like -nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. - -But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next -bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their -nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid -dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered -wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat -down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver -lining there had been to the cloud up to date. - -"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a -child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and -domestic--what!" - -Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he -had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a -much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, -the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. - -Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the -kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his -portmanteau. - -"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of -thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little -treasure?" - -I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. - -"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad -situation for act two of a farce." - -"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. - -"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of -idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll -rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." - -As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid -down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. - -"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the -old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping -child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. -Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the -piano?" - -"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." - -Jimmy shook his head. - -"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. -Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit -of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up -to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' -Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses -L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big -speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very -well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes -us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just -giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the -child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We -want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and -has the punch." - -"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, -that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts -Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." - -Jimmy frowned. - -"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set -instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, -when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First -rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." - -Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not -to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't -in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we -concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw -that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing -was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. - -"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first -rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his -line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two -words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got -a success." - -I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be -one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning -intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as -exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the -kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd -go all to pieces again. And time was flying. - -"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day -now and take him away." - -"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. -We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes -who would have learned the part quicker." - -I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't -discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash -at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was -after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have -been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first -opportunity, but Jimmy said no. - -"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said -'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might -do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." - -But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. - -It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie -had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the -house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along -came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual -yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. - -"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come -up?" - -She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that -sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the -kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the -sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At -any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the -veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. - -I tried to break up the scene. - -"We were just going down to the beach," I said. - -"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your -piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for -ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when -he's finished here?" - -"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be -disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell -him later." - -"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine -Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he -will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." - -"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. - -She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in -her pocket for something. - -"The beach," I babbled. - -"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't -you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of -toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. - -That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid -was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. - -And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for -all the world as if he had been taking a cue. - -He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the -ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" - -The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy -Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards -it. - -"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. - -"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. - -"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on -till you do." - -She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still -stood there gaping, without a word. - -"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her -eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a -fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. -Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and -see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. -It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as -if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up -and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. - -"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. - -I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. -Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief -remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the -while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. - -And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. - -And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She -leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while -Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. - -Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it -seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in -my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a -word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. -What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? - -Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. - -"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? -We must have a big rehearsal to-day." - -"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor -dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." - -"Tell me," said Jimmy. - -I told him. - -"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's -always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things -look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now -a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" - -"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" - -In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow -from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite -projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the -road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, -about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as -if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped -in each other's arms. - - * * * * * - -Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his -business had certainly gone with a bang! - - - - -RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE - - -I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the -course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, -was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, -don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. - -We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an -old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, -my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's -maid Pilbeam and George. - -George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him -into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who -was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to -hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he -had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was -a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a -sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a -chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and -had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it -struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at -Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix -up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George -had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were -anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the -thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from -a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my -state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed -and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, -which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly -recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd -expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently -relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my -midst at that hour was too much for me. - -"Voules!" I yelled. - -Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing -in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with -that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay -him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of -emotion in him. - -"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be -Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just -seven." - -"I understood you to summon me, sir." - -"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise -outside." - -"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment -I raised my voice." - -"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" - -"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." - -"What was all the trouble about?" - -"I was breaking our engagement, sir." - -I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with -engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his -secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. - -"I think I'll get up," I said. - -"Yes, sir." - -"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right -away?" - -"Yes, sir." - -So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was -a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all -the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. -Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit -pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for -it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? - -"Seen George?" I asked. - -I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was -queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly -close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and -slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; -she loves muh!" - -"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. - -I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that -a.m. - -The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when -the morning papers arrived. - -Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. - -"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. - -"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. - -"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." - -Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was -full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness -the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these -chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on -his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed -the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking -advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable -vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible -in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his -yacht, where he still lay unconscious. - -"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for -slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" - -"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His -Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent -private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the -police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important -clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in -Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." - -About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move -off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man -came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old -Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. - -"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on -board--Mr. George Lattaker?" - -"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I -say?" - -"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on -somewhat urgent business." - -"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him -up." - -I went down to George's state-room. - -"George, old man!" I shouted. - -No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's -more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more -surprised. I went on deck. - -"He isn't there," I said. - -"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone -for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better -wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" - -The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped -down, leaving me alone on deck. - -I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought -I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked -over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in -evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old -George. - -"Great Scot!" I cried. - -"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" - -"They're all down at breakfast." - -He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I -regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. - -"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. - -He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. - -"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How -do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about -touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of -my body this morning, Reggie!" - -"Yes, old boy?" - -"I did a murder last night." - -"What?" - -"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella -Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" - -"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" - -"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I -proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was -just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming -along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's -maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, -Reggie?" - -"Never. I've been refused dozens----" - -"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I -hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest -thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It -wasn't. It was Pilbeam." - -"You kissed her?" - -"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened -and out came Stella." - -"Great Scott!" - -"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, -not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It -did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed -off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to -forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned -my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can -recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street -and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all -I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my -hat." - -I dived for the paper. - -"Read," I said. "It's all there." - -He read. - -"Good heavens!" he said. - -"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" - -"Reggie, this is awful." - -"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." - -"That doesn't matter." - -"It does to him." - -He read the paper again. - -"It says they've a clue." - -"They always say that." - -"But--My hat!" - -"Eh?" - -"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman -Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" - -"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" - -He jumped a foot in the air. - -"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the -matter?" - -"The man!" - -"What man?" - -"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you -did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted -to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the -look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." - -"No!" - -"I feel it. I'm sure of it." - -"Had he a hat?" - -"Of course he had a hat." - -"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" - -"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must -get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your -life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lese-majeste_. -It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to -waste." - -"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or -something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire -my uncle to meet me in----" - -"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" - -He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, -carrying a letter on a tray. - -"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A -letter has arrived for him." - -"He isn't here." - -"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" - -"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." - -"Very good, sir." - -"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to -see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" - -"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." - -"Ah! That's all, Voules." - -"Thank you, sir." - -He retired. I called to George, and he came out. - -"Who was it?" - -"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast -still. The sleuth's eating kippers." - -"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his -letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. - -"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. - -"Reggie, this is a queer thing." - -"What's that?" - -He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he -had grunted. This is how it ran: - - "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I - think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious - situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which - your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are - expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have - reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard - your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or - kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both - babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it - was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a - letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos - Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has - only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on - his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like - other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile - his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can - hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a - thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take - some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we - meet.--Your affectionate uncle, - - "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." - -I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I -do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I -have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. - -"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." - -"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this -chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, -though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have -to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, -failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently -there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected -offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." - -"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of -your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to -stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." - -He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. - -"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." - -"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of -twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't -Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you -up that you have a brother Alfred." - -"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." - -"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your -life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective -off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." - -At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. - -"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. - -"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll -swear George hadn't one." - -"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making -things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." - -"No, no." - -"You _are_." - -"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." - -And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. - -"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." - -I looked at George. George looked at me. - -"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us -away, would you, Voules?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"You would?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by -it?" - -"Financially, sir, nothing." - -"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding -your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old -fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." - -"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you -think that you can buy my self-respect?" - -"Oh, come!" I said. - -"How much?" said Voules. - -So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. -You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted -to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. -By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred -when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it -up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed -his clothes. - -He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. - -"Did you meet him?" I asked. - -"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. - -"George's twin-brother Alfred." - -"I didn't know George had a brother." - -"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in -infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his -uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George -has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, -Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a -brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it -_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." - -And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. - -They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at -him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite -certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. - -"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. - -"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. - -"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. - -"No one could tell you apart," I said. - -"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came -to a question of identification, there would be one way of -distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" - -"He's a dear old pal of mine." - -"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" - -"Every day last August." - -"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this -on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped -and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it -often when we were bathing together. - -"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. - -"No," I said. "Oh, no." - -"You would have noticed it if he had?" - -"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." - -"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able -to prove one's own identity." - -That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It -seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think -George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had -breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he -hadn't a care in the world. - -Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the -foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the -rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. - -"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" - -"What did you tell me?" - -"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for -George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the -trouble was. And then----" - -"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you -after knowing you for about two hours." - -"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became -him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she -told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a -pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down -for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." - -"And it's all right?" - -"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that -infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." - -"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and -is waiting for you." - -"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. - -We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a -boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. - -"It's my uncle," said George. - -A stout man came up the gangway. - -"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" - -"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is -Alfred Lattaker." - -"What's that?" - -"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" - -The stout man stared at him. - -"You're very like George," he said. - -"So everyone tells me." - -"And you're really Alfred?" - -"I am." - -"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." - -He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. - -At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I -should be glad to have the afternoon off." - -I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a -trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. - -I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was -waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. - -"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" - -I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up -about it, so I told her. - -"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." - -She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm -hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" -which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. - -"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings -and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." - -I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my -state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of -this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going -about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was -at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. - -I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the -facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the -trouble. - -Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. -There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind -had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a -fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. - -I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says -about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of -care? George's was like that. He looked green. - -"Finished with your uncle?" I said. - -He grinned a ghostly grin. - -"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there -isn't any money." - -"Explain yourself, old top," I said. - -"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the -trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When -the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he -went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last -remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while -and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he -invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner -or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, -which he has done. He's on his way now." - -"You let him go?" - -"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis -around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding -prison is to be Alfred." - -"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, -anyway," I said, to cheer him up. - -"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. -How can I marry her?" - -I pondered. - -"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit -of a mess." - -"You've guessed it," said poor old George. - -I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what -a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you -see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, -and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You -can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. -Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, -getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what -I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about -it. - -It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. -We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old -Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when -he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was -suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was -worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and -I, only not for the same reason. - -We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a -well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. - -"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Coeslin, equerry to His -Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the -Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." - -Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. - -"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You -remember?" - -"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I -suppose not?" - -"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" - -Stella shook hands with him. - -"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a -terrible thing to have happened!" - -"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained -consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." - -"That's good," said old Marshall. - -"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your -permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." - -"Mr. Who?" - -The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. - -"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." - -"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" - -"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his -services----" - -"I know. But what's he doing here?" - -"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." - -"Eh?" - -"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. - -"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like -now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." - -"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" - -George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. - -"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can -tell me by my mole." - -He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. - -The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. - -"I am sorry," he said. - -George didn't offer to console him, - -"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." - -"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." - -"What?" shouted George. - -"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, -saved my high-born master from the assassin." - -George sat down suddenly. - -"I don't understand," he said feebly. - -"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the -conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was -also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard -the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a -dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he -had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. -My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he -lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing -the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the -assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His -Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His -gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, -you should be proud of your brother, sir!" - -"Thanks," said George limply. - -"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search -the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." - -"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. - -It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his -head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. - -"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. - -He glared at George, who was staring at him. - -"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this -afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours -without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll -learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this -morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on -you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged -that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. -And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his -mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That -man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." - -George got up. - -"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." - -"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." - -"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had -rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only -remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the -conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." - -"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. - -"I am." - -"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. - -"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of -Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." - -"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the -girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's -chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. - -"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot -yourself." - -He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed -to think better of it and fell into the clinch. - -It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. - -"Voules, you're sacked," I said. - -"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman -of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get -your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." - -"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the -presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his -preserver." - -"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" - -There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a -smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and -Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. - -"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so -happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." - -"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that -way now." - -I coughed and he turned round. - -"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. - -"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." - -"Beautiful," said Stella. - -"The moon," I said. - -"Ripping," said George. - -"Lovely," said Stella. - -"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" - -George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. - -I popped. - - - - -DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD - - -Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean -really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, -or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly -bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my -notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty -few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the -Yeardsley "Venus." - -To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I -shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and -myself. - -When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire -family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at -Oxford with me. - -I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was -a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just -as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture -catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played -"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month -later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence -Yeardsley, an artist. - -What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the -club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I -got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the -book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me -that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the -country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, -by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I -was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to -be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it -had done. - -This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue -sky, as it were. It ran like this: - - "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of - you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old - house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. - Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be - so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you - again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. - Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. - --Yours most sincerely, - - ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. - - "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! - - "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has - ever played on. - - "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says - it is better than St. Andrews. - - "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" - -Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a -head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite -easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. - -However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he -was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must -be something special. So I went. - -Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him -for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was -glad to see me. - -"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just -about at my last grip." - -"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. - -"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere -mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be -so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" - -"Pictures?" - -"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an -artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like -when one gives her her head?" - -I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my -time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the -period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had -had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though -pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had -never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after -marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere -sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to -old Bill. - -"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a -chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" - -"A few days." - -"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there -to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was -that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me -back with a lasso." - -I tried to point out the silver lining. - -"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links -near here." - -He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. - -"You don't mean honestly she said that?" - -"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." - -"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" - -"Well, wasn't it enough?" - -"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" - -"No, she forgot to tell me that." - -"It's the worst course in Great Britain." - -I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have -got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily -allowance of golf when I'm not in London. - -I took another whirl at the silver lining. - -"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's -good." - -"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch -cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended -it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve -the thing as a billiard-table." - -"But she said you said----" - -"Must have been pulling your leg." - -We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well -back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I -couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read -about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and -hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to -know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she -had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was -what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought -me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going -to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married -women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was -nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's -father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as -she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. - -"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot -of that sort stopping here, are there?" - -"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." - -As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure -appeared. - -"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind -struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady -Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. - -"Do you mean me?" I said. - -She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same -as in the old days. - -"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid -you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come -along in and have some tea." - - * * * * * - -Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and -then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt -when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you -hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." -Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have -preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on -Clarence. - -He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His -hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore -pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells -myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, -mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. -Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. - -"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said -Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. - -"Eh?" I said. - -"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" - -While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old -gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was -an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. -Elizabeth introduced us. - -"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel -positive I heard a cat mewing." - -"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." - -"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my -nerves!" - -"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. - -"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. - -That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think -they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to -pictures. - -We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At -least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of -picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and -then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I -was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a -valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the -first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with -any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the -pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. - -"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" - -They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. -Elizabeth grabbed the paper. - -"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of -Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" - -"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" - -"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I -noticed her eyes were sparkling. - -"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been -the 'Venus'!" - -Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. - -"The 'Venus'!" he cried. - -They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the -evening's chat had made quite a hit. - -Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth -showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley -"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed -impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing -it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the -foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I -was aware of its existence. - -She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley -was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were -rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry -effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when -Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent -towards me and said, "Reggie." - -And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You -know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it -then. - -"What-o?" I said nervously. - -"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." - -"Yes?" - -She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back -to me: - -"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the -world for me?" - -There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as -a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she -would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that -sort of thing, what? - -Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. -I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't -appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who -may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to -her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction -when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man -who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. - -I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." - -"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me -everlastingly grateful." - -"Yes," I said. - -"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago -Clarence was very fond of cats?" - -"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" - -"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." - -"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" - -"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants -to get rid of something." - -"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" - -"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. - -She looked up and caught my bulging eye. - -"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. - -"Not that I remember." - -"Well, come into the dining-room." - -We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. - -"There," she said. - -On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed -it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It -was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, -you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ -noticed it. - -"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. - -She nodded. - -"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to -a meal?" - -"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry -through all right." - -She jerked her head impatiently. - -"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." - -And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't -understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old -Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It -explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, -which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send -you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're -absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped -into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a -teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and -go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, -the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. - -And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. - -It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and -that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have -known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding -present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so -far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a -professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at -the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. -He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. -He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to -look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything -rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to -store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the -picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent -that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. - -"Now you see," she said. - -"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy -weather over a trifle?" - -"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in -church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next -to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" - -She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, -or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It -was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other -one. - -Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a -dash at it. - -"Er--'Venus'?" I said. - -Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the -evidence, I mean. - -"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see -you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. -When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have -been at your club." - -This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up -to me, and put her hand on my arm. - -"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you -understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let -us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit -and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after -day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that -with Clarence. Now you see?" - -"Yes, but----" - -"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" - -"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to -do?" - -"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" - -I looked at her. - -"You want me to----?" - -"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you -see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the -idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of -the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the -last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his -feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! -One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take -his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, -Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of -the frame, and it's done." - -"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, -but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in -fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" - -"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." - -"But if I'm caught?" - -"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of -the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." - -It sounded simple enough. - -"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" - -"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." - -"But----" - -She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. - -"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." - -She looked at me. - -"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, -don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow -me?" - -"All right," I said. "I'll do it." - -I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped -in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. -If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job -I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done -when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed -easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, -and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for -one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be -pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. -I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my -knife, and slunk downstairs. - -The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the -window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of -local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. -I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, -when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have -said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. -Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and -things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling -something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that -sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" - -I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill -kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. - -"What happened?" I said. - -"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I -came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a -chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I -just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think -you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" - -"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she -had told you." - -"You don't mean----" - -"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." - -"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about -repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I -hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to -do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after -all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm -sorry." - -"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was -still on. - -"Are you feeling better now?" - -"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." - -"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this -job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made -a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on -the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." - -"Heads." - -"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the -light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." - -It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and -the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old -Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, -collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. - -"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture -of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the -thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him -a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of -Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." - -We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our -drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and -shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness -of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good -by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days -when we used to brew in my study at school. - -We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and -gripped my arm. - -"I heard something," he said. - -I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over -the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy -footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. - -"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. - -There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively -chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would -have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't -really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and -believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, -a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one -jump. - -"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." - -I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the -knife. We crept downstairs. - -"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. - -"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" - -"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. - -Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. - -Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. -And then we pulled up sharp, staring. - -The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the -near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," -holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, -was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He -had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he -stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down -in a heap together. The candle went out. - -"What on earth?" said Bill. - -I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most -fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly -collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I -could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, -it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at -me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I -saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But -we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped -short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old -Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. - -"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. -It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down -to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" - -It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among -those present. - -"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. - -"He's in bed," I said. - -"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself -on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who -sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." - -He gave a gulp. - -"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you -understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two -years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It -was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then -Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You -cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The -thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the -picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. -And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I -could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from -a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never -suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals -who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. -I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down -here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this -time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," -he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" - -I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this -time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him -straight instead of breaking it by degrees. - -"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite -understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort -of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" - -I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, -staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling -at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. - -"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have -taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My -Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, -but he had to know the truth. - -"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." - -He started, poor old chap. - -"Eh? What do you mean?" - -"They _did_ take your Venus." - -"But I have it here." - -I shook my head. - -"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. - -He jumped at it and straightened it out. - -"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own -picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can -you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" - -And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! - - * * * * * - -Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled -down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was -my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's -fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected -to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive -silence for a bit. - -"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing -Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" - -"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." - -"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving -Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to -London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how -about it?" - - - - -THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD - - -Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time -during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought -that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of -being baffled. - -Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages -for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's -more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who -was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; -philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely -on him at every turn. - -So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't -hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. - -The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was -in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the -dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower -ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and -generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first -impression was that it was some horrid dream. - -Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from -New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once -that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. -Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a -walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He -was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of -his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He -told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and -wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. - -He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a -month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three -hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there -was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in -which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to -young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, -American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things -once. It began: - - Be! - Be! - The past is dead. - To-morrow is not born. - Be to-day! - To-day! - Be with every nerve, - With every muscle, - With every drop of your red blood! - Be! - -It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of -scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, -with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said -they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four -in the afternoon for over a month. - -As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he -had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had -been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his -position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the -money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem -recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all -its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the -mantelpiece. - -And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! - -"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or -something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" - -I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped -for the bell. - -Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me -how he does it. - -"Tea, Jeeves." - -"Very good, sir." - -He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression -of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky -was surging round with his beastly letter again. - -"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" - -"Read it!" - -"I can't. I haven't had my tea." - -"Well, listen then." - -"Who's it from?" - -"My aunt." - -At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: - -"So what on earth am I to do?" - -Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering -over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. - -"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. -Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want -your advice." - -"Very good, sir." - -He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, -and Rocky started again: - - "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a - long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been - very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made - up my mind to do now." - -"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" - -"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes -cleared at a later point in the communication." - -"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. - -"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. - - "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see - for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I - fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I - am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." - -"Sad, Jeeves, what?" - -"Extremely, sir." - -"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last -Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself -that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist -that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a -fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's -been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." - -"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of -the deer,' Jeeves?" - -"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." - -"Carry on, Rocky, dear -boy." - - "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the - city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly - thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the - Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a - certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to - enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." - -"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do -in ten years." - - "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now - I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I - have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a - firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you - quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you - live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. - I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as - I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic - life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant - supper parties. - - "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me - letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all - you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may - enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying - for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no - detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, - - "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." - -"What about it?" said Rocky. - -"What about it?" I said. - -"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" - -It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude -of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the -right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind -it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here -the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar -plexus. It amazed me. - -"Aren't you bucked?" I said. - -"Bucked!" - -"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider -this pretty soft for you." - -He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to -talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer -chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, -and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an -hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty -straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the -place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a -publicity agent for the old metrop.! - -"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have -to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole -of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to -mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. -Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because -they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I -loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got -to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral -delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than -a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" - -I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in -for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of -the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. - -"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to -share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars -and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I -suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a -ghastly notion!" - -I was shocked, absolutely shocked. - -"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. - -"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" - -"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by -the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" - -"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" - -"Three." - -"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear -the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." - -"And shirts?" - -"Four dozen, sir." - -"And white ties?" - -"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely -filled with our white ties, sir." - -I turned to Rocky. - -"You see?" - -The chappie writhed like an electric fan. - -"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on -earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't -get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put -on an old sweater?" - -I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his -finest feelings. - -"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. - -"That's what I want to know." - -"You might write and explain to your aunt." - -"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid -leaps and cut me out of her will." - -I saw his point. - -"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. - -Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. - -"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is -obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his -possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters -relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be -accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of -remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party -to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes -reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful -report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his -imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." - -Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked -at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as -I have, and he isn't on to his curves. - -"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the -start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the -idea?" - -"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. -All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you -and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. -That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a -startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. - -"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart -sort of man, a man who would notice things." - -"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." - -"But would he?" - -"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" - -For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost -smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and -for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. - -"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have -already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening -out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." - -"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She -wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, -Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will -show you the way." - -Jeeves shook his head. - -"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The -place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." - -"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." - -It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans -happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of -the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything -went absolutely right from the start. - -Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, -and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. -I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table -on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a -fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so -nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he -was making notes in a small book. - -As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond -of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was -perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his -pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to -death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to -be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it -was full of life. - -But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck -anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, -loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired -feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: - - "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. - I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The - cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's - everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, - - "BERTIE. - - "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" - -Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't -have got the confounded thing on to the second page. - -Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: - - "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving - me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems - more wonderful every day. - - "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are - magnificent!" - -Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an -authority. - - "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other - night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new - place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie - Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie - Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks - did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was - there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The - show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. - - "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" - -And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic -temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie -who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a -punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's -no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in -and congratulated him. - -"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" - -"Thank you, sir." - -"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell -you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." - -"It's just a knack, sir." - -"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, -what?" - -"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. - -And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to -say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month -after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old -bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence -like a bomb. - -It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices -that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It -was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. - -"Miss Rockmetteller!" - -And in came a large, solid female. - -The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt -much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd -come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that -it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I -stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an -attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should -have been rallying round the young master, it was now. - -Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, -except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as -a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if -put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly -regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor -old Rocky had been pulling on her. - -"Good afternoon," I managed to say. - -"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" - -"Er--no." - -"Mr. Fred Stone?" - -"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie -Wooster." - -She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean -nothing in her life. - -"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" - -She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I -couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. - -There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the -respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak -without having been spoken to. - -"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party -in the afternoon." - -"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he -say when he would be back?" - -"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in -returning." - -He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer -her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It -made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended -to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, -has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails -to make my spine curl. - -"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of -Rockmetteller's?" - -"Oh, yes, rather!" - -She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. - -"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your -own!" - -I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the -power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing -host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, -mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered -my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously -looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come -to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. - -At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being -about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old -stand-by. - -"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. - -"Tea?" - -She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. - -"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit -of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you -know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." - -I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the -evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. - -"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." - -"Very good, sir." - -"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" - -I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve -centres had had the deuce of a shock. - -"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put -that into her head?" - -Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. - -"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my -suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from -this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good -central residence in the city." - -I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. - -"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an -intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about -here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." - -"Yes, sir." - -"It's pretty rotten, you know." - -"Most disturbing, sir." - -"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got -to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the -tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come -up by the next train." - -"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message -and dispatching it by the lift attendant." - -"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" - -"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. -Thank you." - -I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still -bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a -hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There -was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I -suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. - -"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful -silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. - -"What is a surprise?" - -"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." - -She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. - -"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. - -Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. - -"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" - -Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad -to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for -one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool -about with I felt happier. - -"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. - -It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal -more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her -out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. - -"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me -to drink this stuff?" - -"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." - -"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" - -"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." - -"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" - -I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way -that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was -brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had -had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. - -Conversation languished again after that. - -Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you -can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, -especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. - -"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. - -"At which hotel?" - -"The hotel you're staying at." - -"I am not staying at an hotel." - -"Stopping with friends--what?" - -"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." - -I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. - -"What! Here?" I gurgled. - -"Certainly! Where else should I go?" - -The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't -see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't -Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because -she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in -the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock -and produce some results when she spoke again. - -"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I -wish to lie down." - -"Your nephew's man-servant?" - -"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile -ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish -to be alone with me when he returns." - -I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for -me. I crept into Jeeves's den. - -"Jeeves!" I whispered. - -"Sir?" - -"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." - -"Very good, sir." - -"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, -and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and -keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, -and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants -you to prepare her bed." - -He looked wounded. - -"It is hardly my place, sir----" - -"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to -that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and -have to go to an hotel, what?" - -"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for -clothes?" - -"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag -when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" - -"I will endeavour to do so, sir." - -"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd -where I am when he gets here." - -"Very good, sir." - -I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. -The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive -chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. - -"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. - -"Good-bye, sir." - -And I staggered out. - - * * * * * - -You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher -Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he -has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, -you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more -sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's -misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. - -As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white -tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole -squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to -look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural -phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, -there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own -clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the -morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I -mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful -privations the poor have to stick. - -I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. -Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't -make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what -somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. - -I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but -nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go -on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the -hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've -felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as -if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I -should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang -I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end -of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. - -It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. - -"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" - -"Where are you speaking from?" - -"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a -fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a -friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life -written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and -I'm nearly crazy." - -"Tell me all, old top," I said. - -"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the -river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of -thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was -just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when -about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There -are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder -than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram -arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of -absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two -miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top -of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. -And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of -yours." - -I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky -was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. - -"You'll ruin them!" - -"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles -seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to -get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're -about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. -I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't -breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out -and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by -now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure -Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I -dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could -I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even -to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She -keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's -simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting -two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to -think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me -into it." - -"Me! What do you mean?" - -"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested -leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that -did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me -about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where -she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of -New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled -herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some -miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! -It's got to end!" - -"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" - -"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of -help that is!" - -"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is -for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a -lot of money." - -"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" - -"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying -all the expenses now, isn't she?" - -"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the -lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no -necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's -simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've -examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver -lining it's some little dissembler!" - -"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what -I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get -back to the flat." - -"Don't come near the flat." - -"But it's my own flat." - -"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you -did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said -she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless -and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget -it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. -Good-bye." - - * * * * * - -Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated -noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. - -"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your -personal belongings." - -He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. - -"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" - -"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is -a remarkably alert lady." - -"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" - -"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my -notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic -conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour -to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." - -"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." - -"We must hope for the best, sir." - -"Can't you think of anything to do?" - -"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far -without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the -light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." - -"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" - -"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the -tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case -and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." - -"You understate it, Jeeves." - -He gazed meditatively out of the window. - -"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine -who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are -much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great -city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever -the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and -spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has -broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable -her to gratify this desire." - -"I love to have these little chats with you about your female -relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me -down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got -to do with my trouble." - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on -the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I -should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." - -Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. - - * * * * * - -I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a -habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit -them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and -sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, -and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in -it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you -might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of -Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at -least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. -What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets -once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. - -New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up -just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks -began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at -Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except -the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the -ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to -see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled -for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for -myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under -the strain. - -It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took -it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to -surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless -spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I -had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the -impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York -night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a -cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the -shutters. - -The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that -I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on -the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort -of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the -chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without -disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the -proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had -helped a bit. - -For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his -aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in -again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were -something the management ought to be complained to about. - -"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, -"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good -turn if you asked me?" - -"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. - -"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest -of the evening." - -Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. - -"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" - -"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to -divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that -for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't -understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A -few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know -fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt -Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect -has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to -be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a -nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the -love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." - -I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was -sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had -lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore -Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about -rather unpleasant things. - -"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. - -"I have." - -There was something in her eye that seemed to say: - -"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" - -"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. - -And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, -bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and -then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this -wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light -of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had -gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged -home with ropes. - -It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. - -"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" - -I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't -anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with -the woman, so I went along. - -Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the -feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A -massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, -though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his -best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. - -I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his -lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something -told me that I was about to need him. - -The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the -decanter. - -"Say when, Bertie." - -"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. - -I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye -of one who sees it coming. - -"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it -there. - -"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see -a young man going to perdition!" - -Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the -whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. - -"Eh?" he said, blinking. - -The aunt proceeded. - -"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But -now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder -at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you -into contact with this wicked city." - -I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a -look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his -feelings. - -"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go -to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing -Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." - -"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. - -You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and -you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to -understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. -I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off -to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front -of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. - -The aunt gave me a withering up and down. - -"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp -having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing -men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would -have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. -He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque -phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I -first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How -often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! - -"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; -so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked -your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little -intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he -did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square -Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a -seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I -discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle -of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many -people, so I remained." - -She gulped. - -"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. -Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the -sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I -feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in -a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me -New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of -sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people -should be in bed. - -"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to -drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more -sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient -revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed -right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could -have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you -must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen -that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you -to dance in those places of wickedness?" - -Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. - -"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." - -"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is -not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. -You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find -that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour -and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, -Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the -struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" - -I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused -dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him -the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being -cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let -go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. - -"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" - -"Yes." - -"Not to live in the country?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller." - -"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New -York?" - -"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there -can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will -you--for my sake?" - -Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement -from that table. - -"I will!" he said. - - * * * * * - -"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying -in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just -come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour -before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was -the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like -home--what?" - -"Very true, sir." - -"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" - -"Precisely, sir." - -I lit another cigarette. - -"Jeeves." - -"Sir?" - -"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were -baffled." - -"Indeed, sir?" - -"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? -It was pure genius!" - -"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I -was thinking of my aunt, sir." - -"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" - -"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks -coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always -found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her -mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might -prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." - -I was stunned by the man's resource. - -"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, -Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat -a lot of fish, Jeeves?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born -that way there's no use worrying." - -"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I -should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you -a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the -red domino pattern instead, sir." - -"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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