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diff --git a/old/ndscr10.txt b/old/ndscr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..489a4d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ndscr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10717 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Indiscretions of Archie +by P. G. Wodehouse +(#5 in our series by P. G. Wodehouse) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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Its true he went to America and +fell in love with Lucille, the daughter of a millionaire hotel +proprietor and if he did marry her--well, what else was there to do? + +From his point of view, the whole thing was a thoroughly good egg; +but Mr. Brewster, his father-in-law, thought differently, Archie had +neither money nor occupation, which was distasteful in the eyes of +the industrious Mr. Brewster; but the real bar was the fact that he +had once adversely criticised one of his hotels. + +Archie does his best to heal the breach; but, being something of an +ass, genus priceless, he finds it almost beyond his powers to +placate "the man-eating fish" whom Providence has given him as a +father-in-law + + + + +INDISCRETIONS OF ARCHIE + +BY + +P. G. WODEHOUSE + +AUTHOR OF "THE LITTLE WARRIOR," "A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS," "ONEASY +MONEY," ETC. + + + + + +NEW YORK + +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + + +COPYRIGHT,1921, BY GEORGE H, DORAN COMPANY +COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (COSMOPOLITAN +MAGAZINE) + +PRINTED IN-THE-UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +DEDICATION TO B. W. KING-HALL + +My dear Buddy,-- + +We have been friends for eighteen years. A considerable proportion +of my books were written under your hospitable roof. And yet I have +never dedicated one to you. What will be the verdict of Posterity on +this? The fact is, I have become rather superstitious about +dedications. No sooner do you label a book with the legend-- + + TO MY + BEST FRIEND + X + +than X cuts you in Piccadilly, or you bring a lawsuit against him. +There is a fatality about it. However, I can't imagine anyone +quarrelling with you, and I am getting more attractive all the time, +so let's take a chance. + +Yours ever, + +P. G. WODEHOUSE. + + + + +CONTENTS + + I DISTRESSING SCENE IN A HOTEL + II A SHOCK FOR MR. BREWSTER + III MR. BREWSTER DELIVERS SENTENCE + IV WORK WANTED + V STRANGE EXPERIENCE OF AN ARTIST'S MODEL + VI THE BOMB + VII MR. ROSCOE SHERRIFF HAS AN IDEA + VIII A DISTURBED NIGHT FOR DEAR OLD SQUIFFY + IX A LETTER FROM PARKER + X DOING FATHER A BIT OF GOOD + XI SALVATORE CHOOSES THE WRONG MOMENT + XII BRIGHT EYES-AND A FLY + XIII RALLYING ROUND PERCY + XIV THE SAD CASE OF LOONEY BIDDLE + XV SUMMER STORMS + XVI ARCHIE ACCEPTS A SITUATION + XVII BROTHER BILL'S ROMANCE +XVIII THE SAUSAGE CHAPPIE + XIX REGGIE COMES TO LIFE + XX THE SAUSAGE CHAPPIE CLICKS + XXI THE-GROWING BOY + XXII WASHY STEPS INTO THE HALL OF FAME +XXIII MOTHER'S-KNEE + XXIV THE MELTING OF MR. CONNOLLY + XXV THE WIGMORE VENUS + XXVI A TALE OF A GRANDFATHER + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DISTRESSING SCENE + + +"I say, laddie!" said Archie. + +"Sir?" replied the desk-clerk alertly. All the employes of the Hotel +Cosmopolis were alert. It was one of the things on which Mr. Daniel +Brewster, the proprietor, insisted. And as he was always wandering +about the lobby of the hotel keeping a personal eye on affairs, it +was never safe to relax. + +"I want to see the manager." + +"Is there anything I could do, sir?" + +Archie looked at him doubtfully. + +"Well, as a matter of fact, my dear old desk-clerk," he said, "I +want to kick up a fearful row, and it hardly seems fair to lug you +into it. Why you, I mean to say? The blighter whose head I want on a +charger is the bally manager." + +At this point a massive, grey-haired man, who had been standing +close by, gazing on the lobby with an air of restrained severity, as +if daring it to start anything, joined in the conversation. + +"I am the manager," he said. + +His eye was cold and hostile. Others, it seemed to say, might like +Archie Moffam, but not he. Daniel Brewster was bristling for combat. +What he had overheard had shocked him to the core of his being. The +Hotel Cosmopolis was his own private, personal property, and the +thing dearest to him in the world, after his daughter Lucille. He +prided himself on the fact that his hotel was not like other New +York hotels, which were run by impersonal companies and shareholders +and boards of directors, and consequently lacked the paternal touch +which made the Cosmopolis what it was. At other hotels things went +wrong, and clients complained. At the Cosmopolis things never went +wrong, because he was on the spot to see that they didn't, and as a +result clients never complained. Yet here was this long, thin, +string-bean of an Englishman actually registering annoyance and +dissatisfaction before his very eyes. + +"What is your complaint?" he enquired frigidly. + +Archie attached himself to the top button of Mr. Brewster's coat, +and was immediately dislodged by an irritable jerk of the other's +substantial body. + +"Listen, old thing! I came over to this country to nose about in +search of a job, because there doesn't seem what you might call a +general demand for my services in England. Directly I was demobbed, +the family started talking about the Land of Opportunity and shot me +on to a liner. The idea was that I might get hold of something in +America--" + +He got hold of Mr. Brewster's coat-button, and was again shaken off. + +"Between ourselves, I've never done anything much in England, and I +fancy the family were getting a bit fed. At any rate, they sent me +over here--" + +Mr. Brewster disentangled himself for the third time. + +"I would prefer to postpone the story of your life," he said coldly, +"and be informed what is your specific complaint against the Hotel +Cosmopolis." + +"Of course, yes. The jolly old hotel. I'm coming to +that. Well, it was like this. A chappie on the boat told me that +this was the best place to stop at in New York--" + +"He was quite right," said Mr. Brewster. + +"Was he, by Jove! Well, all I can say, then, is that the other New +York hotels must be pretty mouldy, if this is the best of the lot! I +took a room here last night," said Archie quivering with self-pity, +"and there was a beastly tap outside somewhere which went drip-drip- +drip all night and kept me awake." + +Mr. Brewster's annoyance deepened. He felt that a chink had been +found in his armour. Not even the most paternal hotel-proprietor can +keep an eye on every tap in his establishment. + +"Drip-drip-drip!" repeated Archie firmly. "And I put my boots +outside the door when I went to bed, and this morning they hadn't +been touched. I give you my solemn word! Not touched." + +"Naturally," said Mr. Brewster. "My employes are honest" + +"But I wanted them cleaned, dash it!" + +"There is a shoe-shining parlour in the basement. At the Cosmopolis +shoes left outside bedroom doors are not cleaned." + +"Then I think the Cosmopolis is a bally rotten hotel!" + +Mr. Brewster's compact frame quivered. The unforgivable insult had +been offered. Question the legitimacy of Mr. Brewster's parentage, +knock Mr. Brewster down and walk on his face with spiked shoes, and +you did not irremediably close all avenues to a peaceful settlement. +But make a remark like that about his hotel, and war was definitely +declared. + +"In that case," he said, stiffening, "I must ask you to give up your +room." + +"I'm going to give it up! I wouldn't stay in the bally place another +minute." + +Mr. Brewster walked away, and Archie charged round to the cashier's +desk to get his bill. It had been his intention in any case, though +for dramatic purposes he concealed it from his adversary, to leave +the hotel that morning. One of the letters of introduction which he +had brought over from England had resulted in an invitation from a +Mrs. van Tuyl to her house-party at Miami, and he had decided to go +there at once. + +"Well," mused Archie, on his way to the station, "one thing's +certain. I'll never set foot in THAT bally place again!" + +But nothing in this world is certain. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A SHOCK FOR MR. BREWSTER + + +Mr. Daniel Brewster sat in his luxurious suite at the Cosmopolis, +smoking one of his admirable cigars and chatting with his old +friend, Professor Binstead. A stranger who had only encountered Mr. +Brewster in the lobby of the hotel would have been surprised at the +appearance of his sitting-room, for it had none of the rugged +simplicity which was the keynote of its owner's personal appearance. +Daniel Brewster was a man with a hobby, He was what Parker, his +valet, termed a connoozer. His educated taste in Art was one of the +things which went to make the Cosmopolis different from and superior +to other New York hotels. He had personally selected the tapestries +in the dining-room and the various paintings throughout the +building. And in his private capacity he was an enthusiastic +collector of things which Professor Binstead, whose tastes lay in +the same direction, would have stolen without a twinge of conscience +if he could have got the chance. + +The professor, a small man of middle age who wore tortoiseshell- +rimmed spectacles, flitted covetously about the room, inspecting its +treasures with a glistening eye. In a corner, Parker, a grave, lean +individual, bent over the chafing-dish, in which he was preparing +for his employer and his guest their simple lunch. + +"Brewster," said Professor Binstead, pausing at the mantelpiece. + +Mr. Brewster looked up amiably. He was in placid mood to-day. Two +weeks and more had passed since the meeting with Archie recorded in +the previous chapter, and he had been able to dismiss that +disturbing affair from his mind. Since then, everything had gone +splendidly with Daniel Brewster, for he had just accomplished his +ambition of the moment by completing the negotiations for the +purchase of a site further down-town, on which he proposed to erect +a new hotel. He liked building hotels. He had the Cosmopolis, his +first-born, a summer hotel in the mountains, purchased in the +previous year, and he was toying with the idea of running over to +England and putting up another in London, That, however, would have +to wait. Meanwhile, he would concentrate on this new one down-town. +It had kept him busy and worried, arranging for securing the site; +but his troubles were over now. + +"Yes?" he said. + +Professor Binstead had picked up a small china figure of delicate +workmanship. It represented a warrior of pre-khaki days advancing +with a spear upon some adversary who, judging from the contented +expression on the warrior's face, was smaller than himself. + +"Where did you get this?" + +"That? Mawson, my agent, found it in a little shop on the east +side." + +"Where's the other? There ought to be another. These things go in +pairs. They're valueless alone." + +Mr. Brewster's brow clouded. + +"I know that," he said shortly. "Mawson's looking for the other one +everywhere. If you happen across it, I give you carte blanche to buy +it for me." + +"It must be somewhere." + +"Yes. If you find it, don't worry about the expense. I'll settle up, +no matter what it is." + +"I'll bear it in mind," said Professor Binstead. "It may cost you a +lot of money. I suppose you know that." + +"I told you I don't care what it costs." + +"It's nice to be a millionaire," sighed Professor Binstead. + +"Luncheon is served, sir," said Parker. + +He had stationed himself in a statutesque pose behind Mr. Brewster's +chair, when there was a knock at the door. He went to the door, and +returned with a telegram. + +"Telegram for you, sir." + +Mr. Brewster nodded carelessly. The contents of the chafing-dish had +justified the advance advertising of their odour, and he was too +busy to be interrupted. + +"Put it down. And you needn't wait, Parker." + +"Very good, sir." + +The valet withdrew, and Mr. Brewster resumed his lunch. + +"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Professor Binstead, to whom a +telegram was a telegram. + +"It can wait. I get them all day long. I expect it's from Lucille, +saying what train she's making." + +"She returns to-day?" + +"Yes, Been at Miami." Mr. Brewster, having dwelt at adequate length +on the contents of the chafing-dish, adjusted his glasses and took +up the envelope. "I shall be glad--Great Godfrey!" + +He sat staring at the telegram, his mouth open. His friend eyed him +solicitously. + +"No bad news, I hope?" + +Mr. Brewster gurgled in a strangled way. + +"Bad news? Bad--? Here, read it for yourself." + +Professor Binstead, one of the three most inquisitive men in New +York, took the slip of paper with gratitude. + +"'Returning New York to-day with darling Archie,'" he read. "'Lots +of love from us both. Lucille.'" He gaped at his host. "Who is +Archie?" he enquired. + +"Who is Archie?" echoed Mr. Brewster helplessly. "Who is--? That's +just what I would like to know." + +"'Darling Archie,'" murmured the professor, musing over the +telegram. "'Returning to-day with darling Archie.' Strange!" + +Mr. Brewster continued to stare before him. When you send your only +daughter on a visit to Miami minus any entanglements and she +mentions in a telegram that she has acquired a darling Archie, you +are naturally startled. He rose from the table with a bound. It had +occurred to him that by neglecting a careful study of his mail +during the past week, as was his bad habit when busy, he had lost an +opportunity of keeping abreast with current happenings. He +recollected now that a letter had arrived from Lucille some time +ago, and that he had put it away unopened till he should have +leisure to read it. Lucille was a dear girl, he had felt, but her +letters when on a vacation seldom contained anything that couldn't +wait a few days for a reading. He sprang for his desk, rummaged +among his papers, and found what he was seeking. + +It was a long letter, and there was silence in the room for some +moments while he mastered its contents. Then he turned to the +professor, breathing heavily. + +"Good heavens!" + +"Yes?" said Professor Binstead eagerly. "Yes?" + +"Good Lord!" + +"Well?" + +"Good gracious!" + +"What is it?" demanded the professor in an agony. + +Mr. Brewster sat down again with a thud. + +"She's married!" + +"Married!" + +"Married! To an Englishman!" + +"Bless my soul!" + +"She says," proceeded Mr. Brewster, referring to the letter again, +"that they were both so much in love that they simply had to slip +off and get married, and she hopes I won't be cross. Cross!" gasped +Mr. Brewster, gazing wildly at his friend. + +"Very disturbing!" + +"Disturbing! You bet it's disturbing! I don't know anything about +the fellow. Never heard of him in my life. She says he wanted a +quiet wedding because he thought a fellow looked such a chump +getting married! And I must love him, because he's all set to love +me very much!" + +"Extraordinary!" + +Mr. Brewster put the letter down. + +"An Englishman!" + +"I have met some very agreeable Englishmen," said Professor +Binstead. + +"I don't like Englishmen," growled Mr. Brewster. "Parker's an +Englishman." + +"Your valet?" + +"Yes. I believe he wears my shirts on the sly,'" said Mr. Brewster +broodingly, "If I catch him--! What would you do about this, +Binstead?" + +"Do?" The professor considered the point judiciary. "Well, really, +Brewster, I do not see that there is anything you can do. You must +simply wait and meet the man. Perhaps he will turn out an admirable +son-in-law." + +"H'm!" Mr. Brewster declined to take an optimistic view. "But an +Englishman, Binstead!" he said with pathos. "Why," he went on, +memory suddenly stirring, "there was an Englishman at this hotel +only a week or two ago who went about knocking it in a way that +would have amazed you! Said it was a rotten place! MY hotel!" + +Professor Binstead clicked his tongue sympathetically. He understood +his friend's warmth. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MR. BREWSTER DELIVERS SENTENCE + + +At about the same moment that Professor Binstead was clicking his +tongue in Mr. Brewster's sitting-room, Archie Moffam sat +contemplating his bride in a drawing-room on the express from Miami. +He was thinking that this was too good to be true. His brain had +been in something of a whirl these last few days, but this was one +thought that never failed to emerge clearly from the welter. + +Mrs. Archie Moffam, nee Lucille Brewster, was small and slender. She +had a little animated face, set in a cloud of dark hair. She was so +altogether perfect that Archie had frequently found himself +compelled to take the marriage-certificate out of his inside pocket +and study it furtively, to make himself realise that this miracle of +good fortune had actually happened to him. + +"Honestly, old bean--I mean, dear old thing,--I mean, darling," said +Archie, "I can't believe it!" + +"What?" + +"What I mean is, I can't understand why you should have married a +blighter like me." + +Lucille's eyes opened. She squeezed his hand. + +"Why, you're the most wonderful thing in the world, precious!-- +Surely you know that?" + +"Absolutely escaped my notice. Are you sure?" + +"Of course I'm sure! You wonder-child! Nobody could see you without +loving you!" + +Archie heaved an ecstatic sigh. Then a thought crossed his mind. It +was a thought which frequently came to mar his bliss. + +"I say, I wonder if your father will think that!" + +"Of course he will!" + +"We rather sprung this, as it were, on the old lad," said Archie +dubiously. "What sort of a man IS your father?" + +"Father's a darling, too." + +"Rummy thing he should own that hotel," said Archie. "I had a +frightful row with a blighter of a manager there just before I left +for Miami. Your father ought to sack that chap. He was a blot on the +landscape!" + +It had been settled by Lucille during the journey that Archie should +be broken gently to his father-in-law. That is to say, instead of +bounding blithely into Mr. Brewster's presence hand in hand, the +happy pair should separate for half an hour or so, Archie hanging +around in the offing while Lucille saw her father and told him the +whole story, or those chapters of it which she had omitted from her +letter for want of space. Then, having impressed Mr. Brewster +sufficiently with his luck in having acquired Archie for a son-in- +law, she would lead him to where his bit of good fortune awaited +him. + +The programme worked out admirably in its earlier stages. When the +two emerged from Mr. Brewster's room to meet Archie, Mr. Brewster's +general idea was that fortune had smiled upon him in an almost +unbelievable fashion and had presented him with a son-in-law who +combined in almost equal parts the more admirable characteristics of +Apollo, Sir Galahad, and Marcus Aurelius. True, he had gathered in +the course of the conversation that dear Archie had no occupation +and no private means; but Mr. Brewster felt that a great-souled man +like Archie didn't need them. You can't have everything, and Archie, +according to Lucille's account, was practically a hundred per cent +man in soul, looks, manners, amiability, and breeding. These are the +things that count. Mr. Brewster proceeded to the lobby in a glow of +optimism and geniality. + +Consequently, when he perceived Archie, he got a bit of a shock. + +"Hullo--ullo--ullo!" said Archie, advancing happily. + +"Archie, darling, this is father," said Lucille. + +"Good Lord!" said Archie. + +There was one of those silences. Mr. Brewster looked at Archie. +Archie gazed at Mr. Brewster. Lucille, perceiving without +understanding why that the big introduction scene had stubbed its +toe on some unlooked-for obstacle, waited anxiously for +enlightenment. Meanwhile, Archie continued to inspect Mr. Brewster, +and Mr. Brewster continued to drink in Archie. + +After an awkward pause of about three and a quarter minutes, Mr. +Brewster swallowed once or twice, and finally spoke. + +"Lu!" + +"Yes, father?" + +"Is this true?" + +Lucille's grey eyes clouded over with perplexity and apprehension. + +"True?" + +"Have you really inflicted this--THIS on me for a son-in-law?" +Mr. Brewster swallowed a few more times, Archie the while watching +with a frozen fascination the rapid shimmying of his new relative's +Adam's-apple. "Go away! I want to have a few words alone with this-- +This--WASSYOURDAMNAME?" he demanded, in an overwrought manner, +addressing Archie for the first time. + +"I told you, father. It's Moom." + +"Moom?" + +"It's spelt M-o-f-f-a-m, but pronounced Moom." + +"To rhyme," said Archie, helpfully, "with Bluffinghame." + +"Lu," said Mr. Brewster, "run away! I want to speak to-to-to--" + +"You called me THIS before," said Archie. + +"You aren't angry, father, dear?" said Lucilla + +"Oh no! Oh no! I'm tickled to death!" + +When his daughter had withdrawn, Mr. Brewster drew a long breath. + +"Now then!" he said. + +"Bit embarrassing, all this, what!" said Archie, chattily. "I mean +to say, having met before in less happy circs. and what not. Rum +coincidence and so forth! How would it be to bury the jolly old +hatchet--start a new life--forgive and forget--learn to love each +other--and all that sort of rot? I'm game if you are. How do we go? +Is it a bet?" + +Mr. Brewster remained entirely unsoftened by this manly appeal to +his better feelings. + +"What the devil do you mean by marrying my daughter?" + +Archie reflected. + +"Well, it sort of happened, don't you know! You know how these +things ARE! Young yourself once, and all that. I was most +frightfully in love, and Lu seemed to think it wouldn't be a bad +scheme, and one thing led to another, and--well, there you are, +don't you know!" + +"And I suppose you think you've done pretty well for yourself?" + +"Oh, absolutely! As far as I'm concerned, everything's topping! I've +never felt so braced in my life!" + +"Yes!" said Mr. Brewster, with bitterness, "I suppose, from your +view-point, everything IS 'topping.' You haven't a cent to your +name, and you've managed to fool a rich man's daughter into marrying +you. I suppose you looked me up in Bradstreet before committing +yourself?" + +This aspect of the matter had not struck Archie until this moment. + +"I say!" he observed, with dismay. "I never looked at it like that +before! I can see that, from your point of view, this must look like +a bit of a wash-out!" + +"How do you propose to support Lucille, anyway?" + +Archie ran a finger round the inside of his collar. He felt +embarrassed, His father-in-law was opening up all kinds of new lines +of thought. + +"Well, there, old bean," he admitted, frankly, "you rather have me!" +He turned the matter over for a moment. "I had a sort of idea of, as +it were, working, if you know what I mean." + +"Working at what?" + +"Now, there again you stump me somewhat! The general scheme was that +I should kind of look round, you know, and nose about and buzz to +and fro till something turned up. That was, broadly speaking, the +notion!" + +"And how did you suppose my daughter was to live while you were +doing all this?" + +"Well, I think," said Archie, "I THINK we rather expected YOU to +rally round a bit for the nonce!" + +"I see! You expected to live on me?" + +"Well, you put it a bit crudely, but--as far as I had mapped +anything out--that WAS what you might call the general scheme of +procedure. You don't think much of it, what? Yes? No?" + +Mr. Brewster exploded. + +"No! I do not think much of it! Good God! You go out of my hotel--MY +hotel--calling it all the names you could think of--roasting it to +beat the band--" + +"Trifle hasty!" murmured Archie, apologetically. "Spoke without +thinking. Dashed tap had gone DRIP-DRIP-DRIP all night--kept me +awake--hadn't had breakfast--bygones be bygones--!" + +"Don't interrupt! I say, you go out of my hotel, knocking it as no +one has ever knocked it since it was built, and you sneak straight +off and marry my daughter without my knowledge." + +"Did think of wiring for blessing. Slipped the old bean, somehow. +You know how one forgets things!" + +"And now you come back and calmly expect me to fling my arms round +you and kiss you, and support you for the rest of your life!" + +"Only while I'm nosing about and buzzing to and fro." + +"Well, I suppose I've got to support you. There seems no way out of +it. I'll tell you exactly what I propose to do. You think my hotel +is a pretty poor hotel, eh? Well, you'll have plenty of opportunity +of judging, because you're coming to live here. I'll let you have a +suite and I'll let you have your meals, but outside of that--nothing +doing! Nothing doing! Do you understand what I mean?" + +"Absolutely! You mean, 'Napoo!'" + +"You can sign bills for a reasonable amount in my restaurant, and +the hotel will look after your laundry. But not a cent do you get +out me. And, if you want your shoes shined, you can pay for it +yourself in the basement. If you leave them outside your door, I'll +instruct the floor-waiter to throw them down the air-shaft. Do you +understand? Good! Now, is there anything more you want to ask?" + +Archie smiled a propitiatory smile. + +"Well, as a matter of fact, I was going to ask if you would stagger +along and have a bite with us in the grill-room?" + +"I will not!" + +"I'll sign the bill," said Archie, ingratiatingly. "You don't think +much of it? Oh, right-o!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WORK WANTED + + +It seemed to Archie, as he surveyed his position at the end of the +first month of his married life, that all was for the best in the +best of all possible worlds. In their attitude towards America, +visiting Englishmen almost invariably incline to extremes, either +detesting all that therein is or else becoming enthusiasts on the +subject of the country, its climate, and its institutions. Archie +belonged to the second class. He liked America and got on splendidly +with Americans from the start. He was a friendly soul, a mixer; and +in New York, that city of mixers, he found himself at home. The +atmosphere of good-fellowship and the open-hearted hospitality of +everybody he met appealed to him. There were moments when it seemed +to him as though New York had simply been waiting for him to arrive +before giving the word to let the revels commence. + +Nothing, of course, in this world is perfect; and, rosy as were the +glasses through which Archie looked on his new surroundings, he had +to admit that there was one flaw, one fly in the ointment, one +individual caterpillar in the salad. Mr. Daniel Brewster, his +father-in-law, remained consistently unfriendly. Indeed, his manner +towards his new relative became daily more and more a manner which +would have caused gossip on the plantation if Simon Legree had +exhibited it in his relations with Uncle Tom. And this in spite of +the fact that Archie, as early as the third morning of his stay, had +gone to him and in the most frank and manly way had withdrawn his +criticism of the Hotel Cosmopolis, giving it as his considered +opinion that the Hotel Cosmopolis on closer inspection appeared to +be a good egg, one of the best and brightest, and a bit of all +right. + +"A credit to you, old thing," said Archie cordially. + +"Don't call me old thing!" growled Mr. Brewster. + +"Eight-o, old companion!" said Archie amiably. + +Archie, a true philosopher, bore this hostility with fortitude, but +it worried Lucille. + +"I do wish father understood you better," was her wistful comment +when Archie had related the conversation. + +"Well, you know," said Archie, "I'm open for being understood any +time he cares to take a stab at it." + +"You must try and make him fond of you." + +"But how? I smile winsomely at him and what not, but he doesn't +respond." + +"Well, we shall have to think of something. I want him to realise +what an angel you are. You ARE an angel, you know." + +"No, really?" + +"Of course you are." + +"It's a rummy thing," said Archie, pursuing a train of thought which +was constantly with him, "the more I see of you, the more I wonder +how you can have a father like--I mean to say, what I mean to say +is, I wish I had known your mother; she must have been frightfully +attractive." + +"What would really please him, I know," said Lucille, "would be if +you got some work to do. He loves people who work." + +"Yes?" said Archie doubtfully. "Well, you know, I heard him +interviewing that chappie behind the desk this morning, who works +like the dickens from early morn to dewy eve, on the subject of a +mistake in his figures; and, if he loved him, he dissembled it all +right. Of course, I admit that so far I haven't been one of the +toilers, but the dashed difficult thing is to know how to start. I'm +nosing round, but the openings for a bright young man seem so +scarce." + +"Well, keep on trying. I feel sure that, if you could only find +something to do, it doesn't matter what, father would be quite +different." + +It was possibly the dazzling prospect of making Mr. Brewster quite +different that stimulated Archie. He was strongly of the opinion +that any change in his father-in-law must inevitably be for the +better. A chance meeting with James B. Wheeler, the artist, at the +Pen-and-Ink Club seemed to open the way. + +To a visitor to New York who has the ability to make himself liked +it almost appears as though the leading industry in that city was +the issuing of two-weeks' invitation-cards to clubs. Archie since +his arrival had been showered with these pleasant evidences of his +popularity; and he was now an honorary member of so many clubs of +various kinds that he had not time to go to them all. There were the +fashionable clubs along Fifth Avenue to which his friend Reggie van +Tuyl, son of his Florida hostess, had introduced him. There were the +businessmen's clubs of which he was made free by more solid +citizens. And, best of all, there were the Lambs', the Players', the +Friars', the Coffee-House, the Pen-and-Ink,--and the other resorts +of the artist, the author, the actor, and the Bohemian. It was in +these that Archie spent most of his time, and it was here that he +made the acquaintance of J. B. Wheeler, the popular illustrator. + +To Mr. Wheeler, over a friendly lunch, Archie had been confiding +some of his ambitions to qualify as the hero of one of the Get-on- +or-get-out-young-man-step-lively-books. + +"You want a job?" said Mr. Wheeler. + +"I want a job," said Archie. + +Mr. Wheeler consumed eight fried potatoes in quick succession. He +was an able trencherman. + +"I always looked on you as one of our leading lilies of the field," +he said. "Why this anxiety to toil and spin?" + +"Well, my wife, you know, seems to think it might put me one-up with +the jolly old dad if I did something." + +"And you're not particular what you do, so long as it has the outer +aspect of work?" + +"Anything in the world, laddie, anything in the world." + +"Then come and pose for a picture I'm doing," said J. B. Wheeler. +"It's for a magazine cover. You're just the model I want, and I'll +pay you at the usual rates. Is it a go?" + +"Pose?" + +"You've only got to stand still and look like a chunk of wood. You +can do that, surely?" + +"I can do that," said Archie. + +"Then come along down to my studio to-morrow." + +"Eight-o!" said Archie. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +STRANGE EXPERIENCES OF AN ARTIST'S MODEL + + +"I say, old thing!" + +Archie spoke plaintively. Already he was looking back ruefully to +the time when he had supposed that an artist's model had a soft job. +In the first five minutes muscles which he had not been aware that +he possessed had started to ache like neglected teeth. His respect +for the toughness and durability of artists' models was now solid. +How they acquired the stamina to go through this sort of thing all +day and then bound off to Bohemian revels at night was more than he +could understand. + +"Don't wobble, confound you!" snorted Mr. Wheeler. + +"Yes, but, my dear old artist," said Archie, "what you don't seem to +grasp--what you appear not to realise--is that I'm getting a crick +in the back." + +"You weakling! You miserable, invertebrate worm. Move an inch and +I'll murder you, and come and dance on your grave every Wednesday +and Saturday. I'm just getting it." + +"It's in the spine that it seems to catch me principally." + +"Be a man, you faint-hearted string-bean!" urged J. B. Wheeler. "You +ought to be ashamed of yourself. Why, a girl who was posing for me +last week stood for a solid hour on one leg, holding a tennis racket +over her head and smiling brightly withal." + +"The female of the species is more india-rubbery than the male," +argued Archie. + +"Well, I'll be through in a few minutes. Don't weaken. Think how +proud you'll be when you see yourself on all the bookstalls." + +Archie sighed, and braced himself to the task once more. He wished +he had never taken on this binge. In addition to his physical +discomfort, he was feeling a most awful chump. The cover on which +Mr. Wheeler was engaged was for the August number of the magazine, +and it had been necessary for Archie to drape his reluctant form in +a two-piece bathing suit of a vivid lemon colour; for he was +supposed to be representing one of those jolly dogs belonging to the +best families who dive off floats at exclusive seashore resorts. J. +B. Wheeler, a stickler for accuracy, had wanted him to remove his +socks and shoes; but there Archie had stood firm. He was willing to +make an ass of himself, but not a silly ass. + +"All right," said J. B. Wheeler, laying down his brush. "That will +do for to-day. Though, speaking without prejudice and with no wish +to be offensive, if I had had a model who wasn't a weak-kneed, +jelly-backboned son of Belial, I could have got the darned thing +finished without having to have another sitting." + +"I wonder why you chappies call this sort of thing 'sitting,'" said +Archie, pensively, as he conducted tentative experiments in +osteopathy on his aching back. "I say, old thing, I could do with a +restorative, if you have one handy. But, of course, you haven't, I +suppose," he added, resignedly. Abstemious as a rule, there were +moments when Archie found the Eighteenth Amendment somewhat trying. + +J. B. Wheeler shook his head. + +"You're a little previous," he said. "But come round in another day +or so, and I may be able to do something for you." He moved with a +certain conspirator-like caution to a corner of the room, and, +lifting to one side a pile of canvases, revealed a stout barrel, +which, he regarded with a fatherly and benignant eye. "I don't mind +telling you that, in the fullness of time, I believe this is going +to spread a good deal of sweetness and light." + +"Oh, ah," said Archie, interested. "Home-brew, what?" + +"Made with these hands. I added a few more raisins yesterday, to +speed things up a bit. There is much virtue in your raisin. And, +talking of speeding things up, for goodness' sake try to be a bit +more punctual to-morrow. We lost an hour of good daylight to-day." + +"I like that! I was here on the absolute minute. I had to hang about +on the landing waiting for you." + +"Well, well, that doesn't matter," said J. B. Wheeler, impatiently, +for the artist soul is always annoyed by petty details. "The point +is that we were an hour late in getting to work. Mind you're here +to-morrow at eleven sharp." + +It was, therefore, with a feeling of guilt and trepidation that +Archie mounted the stairs on the following morning; for in spite of +his good resolutions he was half an hour behind time. He was +relieved to find that his friend had also lagged by the wayside. The +door of the studio was ajar, and he went in, to discover the place +occupied by a lady of mature years, who was scrubbing the floor with +a mop. He went into the bedroom and donned his bathing suit. When he +emerged, ten minutes later, the charwoman had gone, but J. B. +Wheeler was still absent. Rather glad of the respite, he sat down to +kill time by reading the morning paper, whose sporting page alone he +had managed to master at the breakfast table. + +There was not a great deal in the paper to interest him. The usual +bond-robbery had taken place on the previous day, and the police +were reported hot on the trail of the Master-Mind who was alleged to +be at the back of these financial operations. A messenger named +Henry Babcock had been arrested and was expected to become +confidential. To one who, like Archie, had never owned a bond, the +story made little appeal. He turned with more interest to a cheery +half-column on the activities of a gentleman in Minnesota who, with +what seemed to Archie, as he thought of Mr. Daniel Brewster, a good +deal of resource and public spirit, had recently beaned his father- +in-law with the family meat-axe. It was only after he had read this +through twice in a spirit of gentle approval that it occurred to him +that J. B. Wheeler was uncommonly late at the tryst. He looked at +his watch, and found that he had been in the studio three-quarters +of an hour. + +Archie became restless. Long-suffering old bean though he was, he +considered this a bit thick. He got up and went out on to the +landing, to see if there were any signs of the blighter. There were +none. He began to understand now what had happened. For some reason +or other the bally artist was not coming to the studio at all that +day. Probably he had called up the hotel and left a message to this +effect, and Archie had just missed it. Another man might have waited +to make certain that his message had reached its destination, but +not woollen-headed Wheeler, the most casual individual in New York. + +Thoroughly aggrieved, Archie turned back to the studio to dress and +go away. + +His progress was stayed by a solid, forbidding slab of oak. Somehow +or other, since he had left the room, the door had managed to get +itself shut. + +"Oh, dash it!" said Archie. + +The mildness of the expletive was proof that the full horror of the +situation had not immediately come home to him. His mind in the +first few moments was occupied with the problem of how the door had +got that way. He could not remember shutting it. Probably he had +done it unconsciously. As a child, he had been taught by sedulous +elders that the little gentleman always closed doors behind him, and +presumably his subconscious self was still under the influence. And +then, suddenly, he realised that this infernal, officious ass of a +subconscious self had deposited him right in the gumbo. Behind that +closed door, unattainable as youthful ambition, lay his gent's +heather-mixture with the green twill, and here he was, out in the +world, alone, in a lemon-coloured bathing suit. + +In all crises of human affairs there are two broad courses open to a +man. He can stay where he is or he can go elsewhere. Archie, leaning +on the banisters, examined these alternatives narrowly. If he stayed +where he was he would have to spend the night on this dashed +landing. If he legged it, in this kit, he would be gathered up by +the constabulary before he had gone a hundred yards. He was no +pessimist, but he was reluctantly forced to the conclusion that he +was up against it. + +It was while he was musing with a certain tenseness on these things +that the sound of footsteps came to him from below. But almost in +the first instant the hope that this might be J. B. Wheeler, the +curse of the human race, died away. Whoever was coming up the stairs +was running, and J. B. Wheeler never ran upstairs. He was not one of +your lean, haggard, spiritual-looking geniuses. He made a large +income with his brush and pencil, and spent most of it in creature +comforts. This couldn't be J. B. Wheeler. + +It was not. It was a tall, thin man whom he had never seen before. +He appeared to be in a considerable hurry. He let himself into the +studio on the floor below, and vanished without even waiting to shut +the door. + +He had come and disappeared in almost record time, but, brief though +his passing had been, it had been long enough to bring consolation +to Archie. A sudden bright light had been vouchsafed to Archie, and +he now saw an admirably ripe and fruity scheme for ending his +troubles. What could be simpler than to toddle down one flight of +stairs and in an easy and debonair manner ask the chappie's +permission to use his telephone? And what could be simpler, once he +was at the 'phone, than to get in touch with somebody at the +Cosmopolis who would send down a few trousers and what not in a kit +bag. It was a priceless solution, thought Archie, as he made his way +downstairs. Not even embarrassing, he meant to say. This chappie, +living in a place like this, wouldn't bat an eyelid at the spectacle +of a fellow trickling about the place in a bathing suit. They would +have a good laugh about the whole thing. + +"I say, I hate to bother you--dare say you're busy and all that sort +of thing--but would you mind if I popped in for half a second and +used your 'phone?" + +That was the speech, the extremely gentlemanly and well-phrased +speech. Which Archie had prepared to deliver the moment the man +appeared. The reason he did not deliver it was that the man did not +appear. He knocked, but nothing stirred. + +"I say!" + +Archie now perceived that the door was ajar, and that on an envelope +attached with a tack to one of the panels was the name "Elmer M. +Moon" He pushed the door a little farther open and tried again. + +"Oh, Mr. Moon! Mr. Moon!" He waited a moment. "Oh, Mr. Moon! Mr. +Moon! Are you there, Mr. Moon?" + +He blushed hotly. To his sensitive ear the words had sounded exactly +like the opening line of the refrain of a vaudeville song-hit. He +decided to waste no further speech on a man with such an unfortunate +surname until he could see him face to face and get a chance of +lowering his voice a bit. Absolutely absurd to stand outside a +chappie's door singing song-hits in a lemon-coloured bathing suit. +He pushed the door open and walked in; and his subconscious self, +always the gentleman, closed it gently behind him. + +"Up!" said a low, sinister, harsh, unfriendly, and unpleasant voice. + +"Eh?" said Archie, revolving sharply on his axis. + +He found himself confronting the hurried gentleman who had run +upstairs. This sprinter had produced an automatic pistol, and was +pointing it in a truculent manner at his head. Archie stared at his +host, and his host stared at him. + +"Put your hands up," he said. + +"Oh, right-o! Absolutely!" said Archie. "But I mean to say--" + +The other was drinking him in with considerable astonishment. +Archie's costume seemed to have made a powerful impression upon him. + +"Who the devil are you?" he enquired. + +"Me? Oh, my name's--" + +"Never mind your name. What are you doing here?" + +"Well, as a matter of fact, I popped in to ask if I might use your +'phone. You see--" + +A certain relief seemed to temper the austerity of the other's gaze. +As a visitor, Archie, though surprising, seemed to be better than he +had expected. + +"I don't know what to do with you," he said, meditatively. + +"If you'd just let me toddle to the 'phone--" + +"Likely!" said the man. He appeared to reach a decision. "Here, go +into that room." + +He indicated with a jerk of his head the open door of what was +apparently a bedroom at the farther end of the studio. + +"I take it," said Archie, chattily, "that all this may seem to you +not a little rummy." + +"Get on!" + +"I was only saying--" + +"Well, I haven't time to listen. Get a move on!" + +The bedroom was in a state of untidiness which eclipsed anything +which Archie had ever witnessed. The other appeared to be moving +house. Bed, furniture, and floor were covered with articles of +clothing. A silk shirt wreathed itself about Archie's ankles as he +stood gaping, and, as he moved farther into the room, his path was +paved with ties and collars. + +"Sit down!" said Elmer M. Moon, abruptly. + +"Right-o! Thanks," said Archie, "I suppose you wouldn't like me to +explain, and what not, what?" + +"No!" said Mr. Moon. "I haven't got your spare time. Put your hands +behind that chair." + +Archie did so, and found them immediately secured by what felt like +a silk tie. His assiduous host then proceeded to fasten his ankles +in a like manner. This done, he seemed to feel that he had done all +that was required of him, and he returned to the packing of a large +suitcase which stood by the window. + +"I say!" said Archie. + +Mr. Moon, with the air of a man who has remembered something which +he had overlooked, shoved a sock in his guest's mouth and resumed +his packing. He was what might be called an impressionist packer. +His aim appeared to be speed rather than neatness. He bundled his +belongings in, closed the bag with some difficulty, and, stepping to +the window, opened it. Then he climbed out on to the fire-escape, +dragged the suit-case after him, and was gone. + +Archie, left alone, addressed himself to the task of freeing his +prisoned limbs. The job proved much easier than he had expected. Mr. +Moon, that hustler, had wrought for the moment, not for all time. A +practical man, he had been content to keep his visitor shackled +merely for such a period as would permit him to make his escape +unhindered. In less than ten minutes Archie, after a good deal of +snake-like writhing, was pleased to discover that the thingummy +attached to his wrists had loosened sufficiently to enable him to +use his hands. He untied himself and got up. + +He now began to tell himself that out of evil cometh good. His +encounter with the elusive Mr. Moon had not been an agreeable one, +but it had had this solid advantage, that it had left him right in +the middle of a great many clothes. And Mr. Moon, whatever his moral +defects, had the one excellent quality of taking about the same size +as himself. Archie, casting a covetous eye upon a tweed suit which +lay on the bed, was on the point of climbing into the trousers when +on the outer door of the studio there sounded a forceful knocking. + +"Open up here!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BOMB + + +Archie bounded silently out into the other room and stood listening +tensely. He was not a naturally querulous man, but he did feel at +this point that Fate was picking on him with a somewhat undue +severity. + +"In th' name av th' Law!" + +There are times when the best of us lose our heads. At this juncture +Archie should undoubtedly have gone to the door, opened it, +explained his presence in a few well-chosen words, and generally +have passed the whole thing off with ready tact. But the thought of +confronting a posse of police in his present costume caused him to +look earnestly about him for a hiding-place. + +Up against the farther wall was a settee with a high, arching back, +which might have been put there for that special purpose. He +inserted himself behind this, just as a splintering crash announced +that the Law, having gone through the formality of knocking with its +knuckles, was now getting busy with an axe. A moment later the door +had given way, and the room was full of trampling feet. Archie +wedged himself against the wall with the quiet concentration of a +clam nestling in its shell, and hoped for the best. + +It seemed to him that his immediate future depended for better or +for worse entirely on the native intelligence of the Force. If they +were the bright, alert men he hoped they were, they would see all +that junk in the bedroom and, deducing from it that their quarry had +stood not upon the order of his going but had hopped it, would not +waste time in searching a presumably empty apartment. If, on the +other hand, they were the obtuse, flat-footed persons who +occasionally find their way into the ranks of even the most +enlightened constabularies, they would undoubtedly shift the settee +and drag him into a publicity from which his modest soul shrank. He +was enchanted, therefore, a few moments later, to hear a gruff voice +state that th' mutt had beaten it down th' fire-escape. His opinion +of the detective abilities of the New York police force rose with a +bound. + +There followed a brief council of war, which, as it took place in +the bedroom, was inaudible to Archie except as a distant growling +noise. He could distinguish no words, but, as it was succeeded by a +general trampling of large boots in the direction of the door and +then by silence, he gathered that the pack, having drawn the studio +and found it empty, had decided to return to other and more +profitable duties. He gave them a reasonable interval for removing +themselves, and then poked his head cautiously over the settee. + +All was peace. The place was empty. No sound disturbed the +stillness. + +Archie emerged. For the first time in this morning of disturbing +occurrences he began to feel that God was in his heaven and all +right with the world. At last things were beginning to brighten up a +bit, and life might be said to have taken on some of the aspects of +a good egg. He stretched himself, for it is cramping work lying +under settees, and, proceeding to the bedroom, picked up the tweed +trousers again. + +Clothes had a fascination for Archie. Another man, in similar +circumstances, might have hurried over his toilet; but Archie, faced +by a difficult choice of ties, rather strung the thing out. He +selected a specimen which did great credit to the taste of Mr. Moon, +evidently one of our snappiest dressers, found that it did not +harmonise with the deeper meaning of the tweed suit, removed it, +chose another, and was adjusting the bow and admiring the effect, +when his attention was diverted by a slight sound which was half a +cough and half a sniff; and, turning, found himself gazing into the +clear blue eyes of a large man in uniform, who had stepped into the +room from the fire-escape. He was swinging a substantial club in a +negligent sort of way, and he looked at Archie with a total absence +of bonhomie. + +"Ah!" he observed. + +"Oh, THERE you are!" said Archie, subsiding weakly against the chest +of drawers. He gulped. "Of course, I can see you're thinking all +this pretty tolerably weird and all that," he proceeded, in a +propitiatory voice. + +The policeman attempted no analysis of his emotions, He opened a +mouth which a moment before had looked incapable of being opened +except with the assistance of powerful machinery, and shouted a +single word. + +"Cassidy!" + +A distant voice gave tongue in answer. It was like alligators +roaring to their mates across lonely swamps. + +There was a rumble of footsteps in the region of the stairs, and +presently there entered an even larger guardian of the Law than the +first exhibit. He, too, swung a massive club, and, like his +colleague, he gazed frostily at Archie. + +"God save Ireland!" he remarked. + +The words appeared to be more in the nature of an expletive than a +practical comment on the situation. Having uttered them, he draped +himself in the doorway like a colossus, and chewed gum. + +"Where ja get him?" he enquired, after a pause. + +"Found him in here attimpting to disguise himself." + +"I told Cap. he was hiding somewheres, but he would have it that +he'd beat it down th' escape," said the gum-chewer, with the sombre +triumph of the underling whose sound advice has been overruled by +those above him. He shifted his wholesome (or, as some say, +unwholesome) morsel to the other side of his mouth, and for the +first time addressed Archie directly. "Ye're pinched!" he observed. + +Archie started violently. The bleak directness of the speech roused +him with a jerk from the dream-like state into which he had fallen. +He had not anticipated this. He had assumed that there would be a +period of tedious explanations to be gone through before he was at +liberty to depart to the cosy little lunch for which his interior +had been sighing wistfully this long time past; but that he should +be arrested had been outside his calculations. Of course, he could +put everything right eventually; he could call witnesses to his +character and the purity of his intentions; but in the meantime the +whole dashed business would be in all the papers, embellished with +all those unpleasant flippancies to which your newspaper reporter is +so prone to stoop when he sees half a chance. He would feel a +frightful chump. Chappies would rot him about it to the most fearful +extent. Old Brewster's name would come into it, and he could not +disguise it from himself that his father-in-law, who liked his name +in the papers as little as possible, would be sorer than a sunburned +neck. + +"No, I say, you know! I mean, I mean to say!" + +"Pinched!" repeated the rather larger policeman. + +"And annything ye say," added his slightly smaller colleague, "will +be used agenst ya 't the trial." + +"And if ya try t'escape," said the first speaker, twiddling his +club, "ya'll getja block knocked off." + +And, having sketched out this admirably clear and neatly-constructed +scenario, the two relapsed into silence. Officer Cassidy restored +his gum to circulation. Officer Donahue frowned sternly at his +boots. + +"But, I say," said Archie, "it's all a mistake, you know. Absolutely +a frightful error, my dear old constables. I'm not the lad you're +after at all. The chappie you want is a different sort of fellow +altogether. Another blighter entirely." + +New York policemen never laugh when on duty. There is probably +something in the regulations against it. But Officer Donahue +permitted the left corner of his mouth to twitch slightly, and a +momentary muscular spasm disturbed the calm of Officer Cassidy's +granite features, as a passing breeze ruffles the surface of some +bottomless lake. + +"That's what they all say!" observed Officer Donahue. + +"It's no use tryin' that line of talk," said Officer Cassidy. +"Babcock's squealed." + +"Sure. Squealed 's morning," said Officer Donahue. + +Archie's memory stirred vaguely. + +"Babcock?" he said. "Do you know, that name seems familiar to me, +somehow. I'm almost sure I've read it in the paper or something." + +"Ah, cut it out!" said Officer Cassidy, disgustedly. The two +constables exchanged a glance of austere disapproval. This hypocrisy +pained them. "Read it in th' paper or something!" + +"By Jove! I remember now. He's the chappie who was arrested in that +bond business. For goodness' sake, my dear, merry old constables," +said Archie, astounded, "you surely aren't labouring under the +impression that I'm the Master-Mind they were talking about in the +paper? Why, what an absolutely priceless notion! I mean to say, I +ask you, what! Frankly, laddies, do I look like a Master-Mind?" + +Officer Cassidy heaved a deep sigh, which rumbled up from his +interior like the first muttering of a cyclone. + +"If I'd known," he said, regretfully, "that this guy was going to +turn out a ruddy Englishman, I'd have taken a slap at him with m' +stick and chanced it!" + +Officer Donahue considered the point well taken. + +"Ah!" he said, understandingly. He regarded Archie with an +unfriendly eye. "I know th' sort well! Trampling on th' face av th' +poor!" + +"Ya c'n trample on the poor man's face," said Officer Cassidy, +severely; "but don't be surprised if one day he bites you in the +leg!" + +"But, my dear old sir," protested Archie, "I've never trampled--" + +"One of these days," said Officer Donahue, moodily, "the Shannon +will flow in blood to the sea!" + +"Absolutely! But--" + +Officer Cassidy uttered a glad cry. + +"Why couldn't we hit him a lick," he suggested, brightly, "an' tell +th' Cap. he resisted us in th' exercise of our jooty?" + +An instant gleam of approval and enthusiasm came into Officer +Donahue's eyes. Officer Donahue was not a man who got these luminous +inspirations himself, but that did not prevent him appreciating them +in others and bestowing commendation in the right quarter. There was +nothing petty or grudging about Officer Donahue. + +"Ye're the lad with the head, Tim!" he exclaimed admiringly. + +"It just sorta came to me," said Mr. Cassidy, modestly. + +"It's a great idea, Timmy!" + +"Just happened to think of it," said Mr. Cassidy, with a coy gesture +of self-effacement. + +Archie had listened to the dialogue with growing uneasiness. Not for +the first time since he had made their acquaintance, he became +vividly aware of the exceptional physical gifts of these two men. +The New York police force demands from those who would join its +ranks an extremely high standard of stature and sinew, but it was +obvious that jolly old Donahue and Cassidy must have passed in first +shot without any difficulty whatever. + +"I say, you know," he observed, apprehensively. + +And then a sharp and commanding voice spoke from the outer room. + +"Donahue! Cassidy! What the devil does this mean?" + +Archie had a momentary impression that an angel had fluttered down +to his rescue. If this was the case, the angel had assumed an +effective disguise--that of a police captain. The new arrival was a +far smaller man than his subordinates--so much smaller that it did +Archie good to look at him. For a long time he had been wishing that +it were possible to rest his eyes with the spectacle of something of +a slightly less out-size nature than his two companions. + +"Why have you left your posts?" + +The effect of the interruption on the Messrs. Cassidy and Donahue +was pleasingly instantaneous. They seemed to shrink to almost normal +proportions, and their manner took on an attractive deference. + +Officer Donahue saluted. + +"If ye plaze, sorr--" + +Officer Cassidy also saluted, simultaneously. + +"'Twas like this, sorr--" + +The captain froze Officer Cassidy with a glance and, leaving him +congealed, turned to Officer Donahue. + +"Oi wuz standing on th' fire-escape, sorr," said Officer Donahue, in +a tone of obsequious respect which not only delighted, but astounded +Archie, who hadn't known he could talk like that, "accordin' to +instructions, when I heard a suspicious noise. I crope in, sorr, and +found this duck--found the accused, sorr--in front of the mirror, +examinin' himself. I then called to Officer Cassidy for assistance. +We pinched--arrested um, sorr." + +The captain looked at Archie. It seemed to Archie that he looked at +him coldly and with contempt. + +"Who is he?" + +"The Master-Mind, sorr." + +"The what?" + +"The accused, sorr. The man that's wanted." + +"You may want him. I don't," said the captain. Archie, though +relieved, thought he might have put it more nicely. "This isn't +Moon. It's not a bit like him." + +"Absolutely not!" agreed Archie, cordially. "It's all a mistake, old +companion, as I was trying to--" + +"Cut it out!" + +"Ob, right-o!" + +"You've seen the photographs at the station. Do you mean to tell me +you see any resemblance?" + +"If ye plaze, sorr," said Officer Cassidy, coming to life. + +"Well?" + +"We thought he'd bin disguising himself, the way he wouldn't be +recognised." + +"You're a fool!" said the captain. + +"Yes, sorr," said Officer Cassidy, meekly. + +"So are you, Donahue." + +"Yes, sorr." + +Archie's respect for this chappie was going up all the time. He +seemed to be able to take years off the lives of these massive +blighters with a word. It was like the stories you read about lion- +tamers. Archie did not despair of seeing Officer Donahue and his old +college chum Cassidy eventually jumping through hoops. + +"Who are you?" demanded the captain, turning to Archie. + +"Well, my name is--" + +"What are you doing here?" + +"Well, it's rather a longish story, you know. Don't want to bore +you, and all that." + +"I'm here to listen. You can't bore ME." + +"Dashed nice of you to put it like that," said Archie, gratefully. +"I mean to say, makes it easier and so forth. What I mean is, you +know how rotten you feel telling the deuce of a long yarn and +wondering if the party of the second part is wishing you would turn +off the tap and go home. I mean--" + +"If," said the captain, "you're reciting something, stop. If you're +trying to tell me what you're doing here, make it shorter and +easier." + +Archie saw his point. Of course, time was money--the modern spirit +of hustle--all that sort of thing. + +"Well, it was this bathing suit, you know," he said. + +"What bathing suit?" + +"Mine, don't you know, A lemon-coloured contrivance. Rather bright +and so forth, but in its proper place not altogether a bad egg. +Well, the whole thing started, you know, with my standing on a bally +pedestal sort of arrangement in a diving attitude--for the cover, +you know. I don't know if you have ever done anything of that kind +yourself, but it gives you a most fearful crick in the spine. +However, that's rather beside the point, I suppose--don't know why I +mentioned it. Well, this morning he was dashed late, so I went out--" + +"What the devil are you talking about?" + +Archie looked at him, surprised. + +"Aren't I making it clear?" + +"No." + +"Well, you understand about the bathing suit, don't you? The jolly +old bathing suit, you've grasped that, what?" + +"No." + +"Oh, I say," said Archie. "That's rather a nuisance. I mean to say, +the bathing suit's what you might call the good old pivot of the +whole dashed affair, you see. Well, you understand about the cover, +what? You're pretty clear on the subject of the cover?" + +"What cover?" + +"Why, for the magazine." + +"What magazine?" + +"Now there you rather have me. One of these bright little +periodicals, you know, that you see popping to and fro on the +bookstalls." + +"I don't know what you're talking about," said the captain. He +looked at Archie with an expression of distrust and hostility. "And +I'll tell you straight out I don't like the looks of you. I believe +you're a pal of his." + +"No longer," said Archie, firmly. "I mean to say, a chappie who +makes you stand on a bally pedestal sort of arrangement and get a +crick in the spine, and then doesn't turn up and leaves you biffing +all over the countryside in a bathing suit--" + +The reintroduction of the bathing suit motive seemed to have the +worst effect on the captain. He flushed darkly. + +"Are you trying to josh me? I've a mind to soak you!" + +"If ye plaze, sorr," cried Officer Donahue and Officer Cassidy in +chorous. In the course of their professional career they did not +often hear their superior make many suggestions with which they saw +eye to eye, but he had certainly, in their opinion, spoken a +mouthful now. + +"No, honestly, my dear old thing, nothing was farther from my +thoughts--" + +He would have spoken further, but at this moment the world came to +an end. At least, that was how it sounded. Somewhere in the +immediate neighbourhood something went off with a vast explosion, +shattering the glass in the window, peeling the plaster from the +ceiling, and sending him staggering into the inhospitable arms of +Officer Donahue. + +The three guardians of the Law stared at one another. + +"If ye plaze, sorr," said. Officer Cassidy, saluting. + +"Well?" + +"May I spake, sorr?" + +"Well?" + +"Something's exploded, sorr!" + +The information, kindly meant though it was, seemed to annoy the +captain. + +"What the devil did you think I thought had happened?" he demanded, +with not a little irritation, "It was a bomb!" + +Archie could have corrected this diagnosis, for already a faint but +appealing aroma of an alcoholic nature was creeping into the room +through a hole in the ceiling, and there had risen before his eyes +the picture of J. B. Wheeler affectionately regarding that barrel of +his on the previous morning in the studio upstairs. J. B. Wheeler +had wanted quick results, and he had got them. Archie had long since +ceased to regard J. B. Wheeler as anything but a tumour on the +social system, but he was bound to admit that he had certainly done +him a good turn now. Already these honest men, diverted by the +superior attraction of this latest happening, appeared to have +forgotten his existence. + +"Sorr!" said Officer Donahue. + +"Well?" + +"It came from upstairs, sorr." + +"Of course it came from upstairs. Cassidy!" + +"Sorr?" + +"Get down into the street, call up the reserves, and stand at the +front entrance to keep the crowd back. We'll have the whole city +here in five minutes." + +"Right, sorr." + +"Don't let anyone in." + +"No, sorr." + +"Well, see that you don't. Come along, Donahue, now. Look slippy." + +"On the spot, sorr!" said Officer Donahue. + +A moment later Archie had the studio to himself. Two minutes later +he was picking his way cautiously down the fire-escape after the +manner of the recent Mr. Moon. Archie had not seen much of Mr. Moon, +but he had seen enough to know that in certain crises his methods +were sound and should be followed. Elmer Moon was not a good man; +his ethics were poor and his moral code shaky; but in the matter of +legging it away from a situation of peril and discomfort he had no +superior. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MR. ROSCOE SHERRIFF HAS AN IDEA + + +Archie inserted a fresh cigarette in his long holder and began to +smoke a little moodily. It was about a week after his disturbing +adventures in J. B. Wheeler's studio, and life had ceased for the +moment to be a thing of careless enjoyment. Mr. Wheeler, mourning +over his lost home-brew and refusing, like Niobe, to be comforted, +has suspended the sittings for the magazine cover, thus robbing +Archie of his life-work. Mr. Brewster had not been in genial mood of +late. And, in addition to all this, Lucille was away on a visit to a +school-friend. And when Lucille went away, she took with her the +sunshine. Archie was not surprised at her being popular and in +demand among her friends, but that did not help him to become +reconciled to her absence. + +He gazed rather wistfully across the table at his friend, Roscoe +Sherriff, the Press-agent, another of his Pen-and-Ink Club +acquaintances. They had just finished lunch, and during the meal +Sherriff, who, like most men of action, was fond of hearing the +sound of his own voice and liked exercising it on the subject of +himself, had been telling Archie a few anecdotes about his +professional past. From these the latter had conceived a picture of +Roscoe Sherriff's life as a prismatic thing of energy and adventure +and well-paid withal--just the sort of life, in fact, which he would +have enjoyed leading himself. He wished that he, too, like the +Press-agent, could go about the place "slipping things over" and +"putting things across." Daniel Brewster, he felt, would have beamed +upon a son-in-law like Roscoe Sherriff. + +"The more I see of America," sighed Archie, "the more it amazes me. +All you birds seem to have been doing things from the cradle +upwards. I wish I could do things!" + +"Well, why don't you?" + +Archie flicked the ash from his cigarette into the finger-bowl. + +"Oh, I don't know, you know," he said, "Somehow, none of our family +ever have. I don't know why it is, but whenever a Moffam starts out +to do things he infallibly makes a bloomer. There was a Moffam in +the Middle Ages who had a sudden spasm of energy and set out to make +a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, dressed as a wandering friar. Rum ideas +they had in those days." + +"Did he get there?" + +"Absolutely not! Just as he was leaving the front door his favourite +hound mistook him for a tramp--or a varlet, or a scurvy knave, or +whatever they used to call them at that time--and bit him in the +fleshy part of the leg." + +"Well, at least he started." + +"Enough to make a chappie start, what?" + +Roscoe Sherriff sipped his coffee thoughtfully. He was an apostle of +Energy, and it seemed to him that he could make a convert of Archie +and incidentally do himself a bit of good. For several days he had +been, looking for someone like Archie to help him in a small matter +which he had in mind. + +"If you're really keen on doing things," he said, "there's something +you can do for me right away." + +Archie beamed. Action was what his soul demanded. + +"Anything, dear boy, anything! State your case!" + +"Would you have any objection to putting up a snake for me?" + +"Putting up a snake?" + +"Just for a day or two." + +"But how do you mean, old soul? Put him up where?" + +"Wherever you live. Where do you live? The Cosmopolis, isn't it? Of +course! You married old Brewster's daughter. I remember reading +about it." + +"But, I say, laddie, I don't want to spoil your day and disappoint +you and so forth, but my jolly old father-in-law would never let me +keep a snake. Why, it's as much as I can do to make him let me stop +on in the place." + +"He wouldn't know." + +"There's not much that goes on in the hotel that he doesn't know," +said Archie, doubtfully. + +"He mustn't know. The whole point of the thing is that it must be a +dead secret." + +Archie flicked some more ash into the finger-bowl. + +"I don't seem absolutely to have grasped the affair in all its +aspects, if you know what I mean," he said. "I mean to say--in the +first place--why would it brighten your young existence if I +entertained this snake of yours?" + +"It's not mine. It belongs to Mme. Brudowska. You've heard of her, +of course?" + +"Oh yes. She's some sort of performing snake female in vaudeville or +something, isn't she, or something of that species or order?" + +"You're near it, but not quite right. She is the leading exponent of +high-brow tragedy on any stage in the civilized world." + +"Absolutely! I remember now. My wife lugged me to see her perform +one night. It all comes back to me. She had me wedged in an +orchestra-stall before I knew what I was up against, and then it was +too late. I remember reading in some journal or other that she had a +pet snake, given her by some Russian prince or other, what?" + +"That," said Sherriff, "was the impression I intended to convey when +I sent the story to the papers. I'm her Press-agent. As a matter of +fact, I bought Peter-its name's Peter-myself down on the East Side. +I always believe in animals for Press-agent stunts. I've nearly +always had good results. But with Her Nibs I'm handicapped. +Shackled, so to speak. You might almost say my genius is stifled. Or +strangled, if you prefer it," + +"Anything you say," agreed Archie, courteously, "But how? Why is +your what-d'you-call-it what's-its-named?" + +"She keeps me on a leash. She won't let me do anything with a kick +in it. If I've suggested one rip-snorting stunt, I've suggested +twenty, and every time she turns them down on the ground that that +sort of thing is beneath the dignity of an artist in her position. +It doesn't give a fellow a chance. So now I've made up my mind to do +her good by stealth. I'm going to steal her snake." + +"Steal it? Pinch it, as it were?" + +"Yes. Big story for the papers, you see. She's grown very much +attached to Peter. He's her mascot. I believe she's practically +kidded herself into believing that Russian prince story. If I can +sneak it away and keep it away for a day or two, she'll do the rest. +She'll make such a fuss that the papers will be full of it." + +"I see." + +"Wow, any ordinary woman would work in with me. But not Her Nibs. +She would call it cheap and degrading and a lot of other things. +It's got to be a genuine steal, and, if I'm caught at it, I lose my +job. So that's where you come in." + +"But where am I to keep the jolly old reptile?" + +"Oh, anywhere. Punch a few holes in a hat-box, and make it up a +shakedown inside. It'll be company for you." + +"Something in that. My wife's away just now and it's a bit lonely in +the evenings." + +"You'll never be lonely with Peter around. He's a great scout. +Always merry and bright" + +"He doesn't bite, I suppose, or sting or what-not?" + +"He may what-not occasionally. It depends on the weather. But, +outside of that, he's as harmless as a canary." + +"Dashed dangerous things, canaries," said Archie, thoughtfully. +"They peck at you." + +"Don't weaken!" pleaded the Press-agent + +"Oh, all right. I'll take him. By the way, touching the matter of +browsing and sluicing. What do I feed him on?" + +"Oh, anything. Bread-and-milk or fruit or soft-boiled egg or dog- +biscuit or ants'-eggs. You know--anything you have yourself. Well, +I'm much obliged for your hospitality. I'll do the same for you +another time. Now I must be getting along to see to the practical +end of the thing. By the way, Her Nibs lives at the Cosmopolis, too. +Very convenient. Well, so long. See you later." + +Archie, left alone, began for the first time to have serious doubts. +He had allowed himself to be swayed by Mr. Sherriff's magnetic +personality, but now that the other had removed himself he began to +wonder if he had been entirely wise to lend his sympathy and co- +operation to the scheme. He had never had intimate dealings with a +snake before, but he had kept silkworms as a child, and there had +been the deuce of a lot of fuss and unpleasantness over them. +Getting into the salad and what-not. Something seemed to tell him +that he was asking for trouble with a loud voice, but he had given +his word and he supposed he would have to go through with it. + +He lit another cigarette and wandered out into Fifth Avenue. His +usually smooth brow was ruffled with care. Despite the eulogies +which Sherriff had uttered concerning Peter, he found his doubts +increasing. Peter might, as the Press-agent had stated, be a great +scout, but was his little Garden of Eden on the fifth floor of the +Cosmopolis Hotel likely to be improved by the advent of even the +most amiable and winsome of serpents? However-- + +"Moffam! My dear fellow!" + +The voice, speaking suddenly in his ear from behind, roused Archie +from his reflections. Indeed, it roused him so effectually that he +jumped a clear inch off the ground and bit his tongue. Revolving on +his axis, he found himself confronting a middle-aged man with a face +like a horse. The man was dressed in something of an old-world +style. His clothes had an English cut. He had a drooping grey +moustache. He also wore a grey bowler hat flattened at the crown-- +but who are we to judge him? + +"Archie Moffam! I have been trying to find you all the morning." + +Archie had placed him now. He had not seen General Mannister for +several years--not, indeed, since the days when he used to meet him +at the home of young Lord Seacliff, his nephew. Archie had been at +Eton and Oxford with Seacliff, and had often visited him in the Long +Vacation. + +"Halloa, General! What ho, what ho! What on earth are you doing over +here?" + +"Let's get out of this crush, my boy." General Mannister steered +Archie into a side-street, "That's better." He cleared his throat +once or twice, as if embarrassed. "I've brought Seacliff over," he +said, finally. + +"Dear old Squiffy here? Oh, I say! Great work!" + +General Mannister did not seem to share his enthusiasm. He looked +like a horse with a secret sorrow. He coughed three times, like a +horse who, in addition to a secret sorrow, had contracted asthma. + +"You will find Seacliff changed," he said. "Let me see, how long is +it since you and he met?" + +Archie reflected. + +"I was demobbed just about a year ago. I saw him in Paris about a +year before that. The old egg got a bit of shrapnel in his foot or +something, didn't he? Anyhow, I remember he was sent home." + +"His foot is perfectly well again now. But, unfortunately, the +enforced inaction led to disastrous results. You recollect, no +doubt, that Seacliff always had a--a tendency;--a--a weakness--it +was a family failing--" + +"Mopping it up, do you mean? Shifting it? Looking on the jolly old +stuff when it was red and what not, what?" + +"Exactly." + +Archie nodded. + +"Dear old Squiffy was always rather-a lad for the wassail-bowl. When +I met him in Paris, I remember, he was quite tolerably blotto." + +"Precisely. And the failing has, I regret to say, grown on him since +he returned from the war. My poor sister was extremely worried. In +fact, to cut a long story short, I induced him to accompany me to +America. I am attached to the British Legation in Washington now, +you know." + +"Oh, really?" + +"I wished Seacliff to come with me to Washington, but he insists on +remaining in New York. He stated specifically that the thought of +living in Washington gave him the--what was the expression he used?" + +"The pip?" + +"The pip. Precisely." + +"But what was the idea of bringing him to America?" + +"This admirable Prohibition enactment has rendered America--to my +mind--the ideal place for a young man of his views." The General +looked at his watch. "It is most fortunate that I happened to run +into you, my dear fellow. My train for Washington leaves in another +hour, and I have packing to do. I want to leave poor Seacliff in +your charge while I am gone." + +"Oh, I say! What!" + +"You can look after him. I am credibly informed that even now there +are places in New York where a determined young man may obtain the-- +er--stuff, and I should be infinitely obliged--and my poor sister +would be infinitely grateful--if you would keep an eye on him." He +hailed a taxi-cab. "I am sending Seacliff round to the Cosmopolis +to-night. I am sure you, will do everything you can. Good-bye, my +boy, good-bye." + +Archie continued his walk. This, he felt, was beginning to be a bit +thick. He smiled a bitter, mirthless smile as he recalled the fact +that less than half an hour had elapsed since he had expressed a +regret that he did not belong to the ranks of those who do things. +Fate since then had certainly supplied him with jobs with a lavish +hand. By bed-time he would be an active accomplice to a theft, valet +and companion to a snake he had never met, and--as far as could +gather the scope of his duties--a combination of nursemaid and +private detective to dear old Squiffy. + +It was past four o'clock when he returned to the Cosmopolis. Roscoe +Sherriff was pacing the lobby of the hotel nervously, carrying a +small hand-bag. + +"Here you are at last! Good heavens, man, I've been waiting two +hours." + +"Sorry, old bean. I was musing a bit and lost track of the time." + +The Press-agent looked cautiously round. There was nobody within +earshot. + +"Here he is!" he said. + +"Who?" + +"Peter." + +"Where?" said Archie, staring blankly. + +"In this bag. Did you expect to find him strolling arm-in-arm with +me round the lobby? Here you are! Take him!" + +He was gone. And Archie, holding the bag, made his way to the lift. +The bag squirmed gently in his grip. + +The only other occupant of the lift was a striking-looking woman of +foreign appearance, dressed in a way that made Archie feel that she +must be somebody or she couldn't look like that. Her face, too, +seemed vaguely familiar. She entered the lift at the second floor +where the tea-room is, and she had the contented expression of one +who had tea'd to her satisfaction. She got off at the same floor as +Archie, and walked swiftly, in a lithe, pantherist way, round the +bend in the corridor. Archie followed more slowly. When he reached +the door of his room, the passage was empty. He inserted the key in +his door, turned it, pushed the door open, and pocketed the key. He +was about to enter when the bag again squirmed gently in his grip. + +From the days of Pandora, through the epoch of Bluebeard's wife, +down to the present time, one of the chief failings of humanity has +been the disposition to open things that were better closed. It +would have been simple for Archie to have taken another step and put +a door between himself and the world, but there came to him the +irresistible desire to peep into the bag now--not three seconds +later, but now. All the way up in the lift he had been battling with +the temptation, and now he succumbed. + +The bag was one of those simple bags with a thingummy which you +press. Archie pressed it. And, as it opened, out popped the head of +Peter. His eyes met Archie's. Over his head there seemed to be an +invisible mark of interrogation. His gaze was curious, but kindly. +He appeared to be saying to himself, "Have I found a friend?" + +Serpents, or Snakes, says the Encyclopaedia, are reptiles of the +saurian class Ophidia, characterised by an elongated, cylindrical, +limbless, scaly form, and distinguished from lizards by the fact +that the halves (RAMI) of the lower jaw are not solidly united at +the chin, but movably connected by an elastic ligament. The vertebra +are very numerous, gastrocentrous, and procoelous. And, of course, +when they put it like that, you can see at once that a man might +spend hours with combined entertainment and profit just looking at a +snake. + +Archie would no doubt have done this; but long before he had time +really to inspect the halves (RAMI) of his new friend's lower jaw +and to admire its elastic fittings, and long before the +gastrocentrous and procoelous character of the other's vertebrae +had made any real impression on him, a piercing scream almost at his +elbow--startled him out of his scientific reverie. A door opposite +had opened, and the woman of the elevator was standing staring at +him with an expression of horror and fury that went through, him +like a knife. It was the expression which, more than anything else, +had made Mme. Brudowska what she was professionally. Combined with a +deep voice and a sinuous walk, it enabled her to draw down a matter +of a thousand dollars per week. + +Indeed, though the fact gave him little pleasure, Archie, as a +matter of fact, was at this moment getting about--including war-tax +--two dollars and seventy-five cents worth of the great emotional +star for nothing. For, having treated him gratis to the look of +horror and fury, she now moved towards him with the sinuous walk and +spoke in the tone which she seldom permitted herself to use before +the curtain of act two, unless there was a whale of a situation that +called for it in act one. + +"Thief!" + +It was the way she said it. + +Archie staggered backwards as though he had been hit between the +eyes, fell through the open door of his room, kicked it to with a +flying foot, and collapsed on the bed. Peter, the snake, who had +fallen on the floor with a squashy sound, looked surprised and +pained for a moment; then, being a philosopher at heart, cheered up +and began hunting for flies under the bureau. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A DISTURBED NIGHT FOR DEAR OLD SQUIFFY + + +Peril sharpens the intellect. Archie's mind as a rule worked in +rather a languid and restful sort of way, but now it got going with +a rush and a whir. He glared round the room. He had never seen a +room so devoid of satisfactory cover. And then there came to him a +scheme, a ruse. It offered a chance of escape. It was, indeed, a bit +of all right. + +Peter, the snake, loafing contentedly about the carpet, found +himself seized by what the Encyclopaedia calls the "distensible +gullet" and looked up reproachfully. The next moment he was in his +bag again; and Archie, bounding silently into the bathroom, was +tearing the cord off his dressing-gown. + +There came a banging at the door. A voice spoke sternly. A masculine +voice this time. + +"Say! Open this door!" + +Archie rapidly attached the dressing-gown cord to the handle of the +bag, leaped to the window, opened it, tied the cord to a projecting +piece of iron on the sill, lowered Peter and the bag into the +depths, and closed the window again. The whole affair took but a few +seconds. Generals have received the thanks of their nations for +displaying less resource on the field of battle. + +He opened the-door. Outside stood the bereaved woman, and beside her +a bullet-headed gentleman with a bowler hat on the back of his head, +in whom Archie recognised the hotel detective. + +The hotel detective also recognised Archie, and the stern cast of +his features relaxed. He even smiled a rusty but propitiatory smile. +He imagined--erroneously--that Archie, being the son-in-law of the +owner of the hotel, had a pull with that gentleman; and he resolved +to proceed warily lest he jeopardise his job. + +"Why, Mr. Moffam!" he said, apologetically. "I didn't know it was +you I was disturbing." + +"Always glad to have a chat," said Archie, cordially. "What seems to +be the trouble?" + +"My snake!" cried the queen of tragedy. "Where is my snake?" + +Archie, looked at the detective. The detective looked at Archie. + +"This lady," said the detective, with a dry little cough, "thinks +her snake is in your room, Mr. Moffam," + +"Snake?" + +"Snake's what the lady said," + +"My snake! My Peter!" Mme. Brudowska's voice shook with emotion. "He +is here--here in this room," + +Archie shook his head. + +"No snakes here! Absolutely not! I remember noticing when I came +in." + +"The snake is here--here in this room. This man had it in a bag! I +saw him! He is a thief!" + +"Easy, ma'am!" protested the detective. "Go easy! This gentleman is +the boss's son-in-law." + +"I care not who he is! He has my snake! Here--' here in this room!" + +"Mr. Moffam wouldn't go round stealing snakes." + +"Rather not," said Archie. "Never stole a snake in my life. None of +the Moffams have ever gone about stealing snakes. Regular family +tradition! Though I once had an uncle who kept gold-fish." + +"Here he is! Here! My Peter!" + +Archie looked at the detective. The detective looked at Archie. "We +must humour her!" their glances said. + +"Of course," said Archie, "if you'd like to search the room, what? +What I mean to say is, this is Liberty Hall. Everybody welcome! +Bring the kiddies!" + +"I will search the room!" said Mme. Brudowska. + +The detective glanced apologetically at Archie. + +"Don't blame me for this, Mr. Moffam," he urged. + +"Rather not! Only too glad you've dropped in!" + +He took up an easy attitude against the window, and watched the +empress of the emotional drama explore. Presently she desisted, +baffled. For an instant she paused, as though about to speak, then +swept from the room. A moment later a door banged across the +passage. + +"How do they get that way?" queried the detective, "Well, g'bye, Mr. +Moffam. Sorry to have butted in." + +The door closed. Archie waited a few moments, then went to the +window and hauled in the slack. Presently the bag appeared over the +edge of the window-sill. + +"Good God!" said Archie. + +In the rush and swirl of recent events he must have omitted to see +that the clasp that fastened the bag was properly closed; for the +bag, as it jumped on to the window-sill, gaped at him like a yawning +face. And inside it there was nothing. + +Archie leaned as far out of the window as he could manage without +committing suicide. Far below him, the traffic took its usual course +and the pedestrians moved to and fro upon the pavements. There was +no crowding, no excitement. Yet only a few moments before a long +green snake with three hundred ribs, a distensible gullet, and +gastrocentrous vertebras must have descended on that street like the +gentle rain from Heaven upon the place beneath. And nobody seemed +even interested. Not for the first time since he had arrived in +America, Archie marvelled at the cynical detachment of the New +Yorker, who permits himself to be surprised at nothing. + +He shut the window and moved away with a heavy Heart. He had not had +the pleasure of an extended acquaintanceship with Peter, but he had +seen enough of him to realise his sterling qualities. Somewhere +beneath Peter's three hundred ribs there had lain a heart of gold, +and Archie mourned for his loss. + +Archie had a dinner and theatre engagement that night, and it was +late when he returned to the hotel. He found his father-in-law +prowling restlessly about the lobby. There seemed to be something on +Mr. Brewster's mind. He came up to Archie with a brooding frown on +his square face. + +"Who's this man Seacliff?" he demanded, without preamble. "I hear +he's a friend of yours." + +"Oh, you've met him, what?" said Archie. "Had a nice little chat +together, yes? Talked of this and that, no!" + +"We have not said a word to each other." + +"Really? Oh, well, dear old Squiffy is one of those strong, silent +fellers you know. You mustn't mind if he's a bit dumb. He never says +much, but it's whispered round the clubs that he thinks a lot. It +was rumoured in the spring of nineteen-thirteen that Squiffy was on +the point of making a bright remark, but it never came to anything." + +Mr. Brewster struggled with his feelings. + +"Who is he? You seem to know him." + +"Oh yes. Great pal of mine, Squiffy. We went through Eton, Oxford, +and the Bankruptcy Court together. And here's a rummy coincidence. +When they examined ME, I had no assets. And, when they examined +Squiffy, HE had no assets! Rather extraordinary, what?" + +Mr. Brewster seemed to be in no mood for discussing coincidences. + +"I might have known he was a friend of yours!" he said, bitterly. +"Well, if you want to see him, you'll have to do it outside my +hotel." + +"Why, I thought he was stopping here." + +"He is--to-night. To-morrow he can look for some other hotel to +break up." + +"Great Scot! Has dear old Squiffy been breaking the place up?" + +Mr. Brewster snorted. + +"I am informed that this precious friend of yours entered my grill- +room at eight o'clock. He must have been completely intoxicated, +though the head waiter tells me he noticed nothing at the time." + +Archie nodded approvingly. + +"Dear old Squiffy was always like that. It's a gift. However woozled +he might be, it was impossible to detect it with the naked eye. I've +seen the dear old chap many a time whiffled to the eyebrows, and +looking as sober as a bishop. Soberer! When did it begin to dawn on +the lads in the grill-room that the old egg had been pushing the +boat out?" + +"The head waiter," said Mr. Brewster, with cold fury, "tells me that +he got a hint of the man's condition when he suddenly got up from +his table and went the round of the room, pulling off all the table- +cloths, and breaking everything that was on them. He then threw a +number of rolls at the diners, and left. He seems to have gone +straight to bed." + +"Dashed sensible of him, what? Sound, practical chap, Squiffy. But +where on earth did he get the--er--materials?" + +"From his room. I made enquiries. He has six large cases in his +room." + +"Squiffy always was a chap of infinite resource! Well, I'm dashed +sorry this should have happened, don't you know." + +"If it hadn't been for you, the man would never have come here." Mr. +Brewster brooded coldly. "I don't know why it is, but ever since you +came to this hotel I've had nothing but trouble." + +"Dashed sorry!" said Archie, sympathetically. + +"Grrh!" said Mr. Brewster. + +Archie made his way meditatively to the lift. The injustice of his +father-in-law's attitude pained him. It was absolutely rotten and +all that to be blamed for everything that went wrong in the Hotel +Cosmopolis. + +While this conversation was in progress, Lord Seacliff was enjoying +a refreshing sleep in his room on the fourth floor. Two hours +passed. The noise of the traffic in the street below faded away. +Only the rattle of an occasional belated cab broke the silence. In +the hotel all was still. Mr. Brewster had gone to bed. Archie, in +his room, smoked meditatively. Peace may have been said to reign. + +At half-past two Lord Seacliff awoke. His hours of slumber were +always irregular. He sat up in bed and switched the light on. He was +a shock-headed young man with a red face and a hot brown eye. He +yawned and stretched himself. His head was aching a little. The room +seemed to him a trifle close. He got out of bed and threw open the +window. Then, returning to bed, he picked up a book and began to +read. He was conscious of feeling a little jumpy, and reading +generally sent him to sleep. + +Much has been written on the subject of bed-books. The general +consensus of opinion is that a gentle, slow-moving story makes the +best opiate. If this be so, dear old Squiffy's choice of literature +had been rather injudicious. His book was The Adventures of Sherlock +Holmes, and the particular story, which he selected for perusal was +the one entitled, "The Speckled Band." He was not a great reader, +but, when he read, he liked something with a bit of zip to it. + +Squiffy became absorbed. He had read the story before, but a long +time back, and its complications were fresh to him. The tale, it may +be remembered, deals with the activities of an ingenious gentleman +who kept a snake, and used to loose it into people's bedrooms as a +preliminary to collecting on their insurance. It gave Squiffy +pleasant thrills, for he had always had a particular horror of +snakes. As a child, he had shrunk from visiting the serpent house at +the Zoo; and, later, when he had come to man's estate and had put +off childish things, and settled down in real earnest to his self- +appointed mission of drinking up all the alcoholic fluid in England, +the distaste for Ophidia had lingered. To a dislike for real snakes +had been added a maturer shrinking from those which existed only in +his imagination. He could still recall his emotions on the occasion, +scarcely three months before, when he had seen a long, green serpent +which a majority of his contemporaries had assured him wasn't there. + +Squiffy read on:-- + +"Suddenly another sound became audible--a very gentle, soothing +sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping continuously from +a kettle." + +Lord Seacliff looked up from his book with a start Imagination was +beginning to play him tricks. He could have sworn that he had +actually heard that identical sound. It had seemed to come from the +window. He listened again. No! All was still. He returned to his +book and went on reading. + +"It was a singular sight that met our eyes. Beside the table, on a +wooden chair, sat Doctor Grimesby Rylott, clad in a long dressing- +gown. His chin was cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in a +dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow +he had a peculiar yellow band, with brownish speckles, which seemed +to be bound tightly round his head." + +"I took a step forward. In an instant his strange head-gear began to +move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat, +diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent..." + +"Ugh!" said Squiffy. + +He closed the book and put it down. His head was aching worse than +ever. He wished now that he had read something else. No fellow could +read himself to sleep with this sort of thing. People ought not to +write this sort of thing. + +His heart gave a bound. There it was again, that hissing sound. And +this time he was sure it came from the window. + +He looked at the window, and remained staring, frozen. Over the +sill, with a graceful, leisurely movement, a green snake was +crawling. As it crawled, it raised its head and peered from side to +side, like a shortsighted man looking for his spectacles. It +hesitated a moment on the edge of the sill, then wriggled to the +floor and began to cross the room. Squiffy stared on. + +It would have pained Peter deeply, for he was a snake of great +sensibility, if he had known how much his entrance had disturbed the +occupant of the room. He himself had no feeling but gratitude for +the man who had opened the window and so enabled him to get in out +of the rather nippy night air. Ever since the bag had swung open and +shot him out onto the sill of the window below Archie's, he had been +waiting patiently for something of the kind to happen. He was a +snake who took things as they came, and was prepared to rough it a +bit if necessary; but for the last hour or two he had been hoping +that somebody would do something practical in the way of getting him +in out of the cold. When at home, he had an eiderdown quilt to sleep +on, and the stone of the window-sill was a little trying to a snake +of regular habits. He crawled thankfully across the floor under +Squiffy's bed. There was a pair of trousers there, for his host had +undressed when not in a frame of mind to fold his clothes neatly and +place them upon a chair. Peter looked the trousers over. They were +not an eiderdown quilt, but they would serve. He curled up in them +and went to sleep. He had had an exciting day, and was glad to turn +in. + +After about ten minutes, the tension of Squiffy's attitude relaxed. +His heart, which had seemed to suspend its operations, began beating +again. Reason reasserted itself. He peeped cautiously under the bed. +He could see nothing. + +Squiffy was convinced. He told himself that he had never really +believed in Peter as a living thing. It stood to reason that there +couldn't really be a snake in his room. The window looked out on +emptiness. His room was several stories above the ground. There was +a stern, set expression on Squiffy's face as he climbed out of bed. +It was the expression of a man who is turning over a new leaf, +starting a new life. He looked about the room for some implement +which would carry out the deed he had to do, and finally pulled out +one of the curtain-rods. Using this as a lever, he broke open the +topmost of the six cases which stood in the corner. The soft wood +cracked and split. Squiffy drew out a straw-covered bottle. For a +moment he stood looking at it, as a man might gaze at a friend on +the point of death. Then, with a sudden determination, he went into +the bathroom. There was a crash of glass and a gurgling sound. + +Half an hour later the telephone in Archie's room rang. "I say, +Archie, old top," said the voice of Squiffy. + +"Halloa, old bean! Is that you?" + +"I say, could you pop down here for a second? I'm rather upset." + +"Absolutely! Which room?" + +"Four-forty-one." + +"I'll be with you eftsoons or right speedily." + +"Thanks, old man." + +"What appears to be the difficulty?" + +"Well, as a matter of fact, I thought I saw a snake!" + +"A snake!" + +"I'll tell you all about it when you come down." + +Archie found Lord Seacliff seated on his bed. An arresting aroma of +mixed drinks pervaded the atmosphere. + +"I say! What?" said Archie, inhaling. + +"That's all right. I've been pouring my stock away. Just finished +the last bottle." + +"But why?" + +"I told you. I thought I saw a snake!" + +"Green?" + +Squiffy shivered slightly. + +"Frightfully green!" + +Archie hesitated. He perceived that there are moments when silence +is the best policy. He had been worrying himself over the +unfortunate case of his friend, and now that Fate seemed to have +provided a solution, it would be rash to interfere merely to ease +the old bean's mind. If Squiffy was going to reform because he +thought he had seen an imaginary snake, better not to let him know +that the snake was a real one. + +"Dashed serious!" he said. + +"Bally dashed serious!" agreed Squiffy. "I'm going to cut it out!" + +"Great scheme!" + +"You don't think," asked Squiffy, with a touch of hopefulness, "that +it could have been a real snake?" + +"Never heard of the management supplying them." + +"I thought it went under the bed." + +"Well, take a look." + +Squiffy shuddered. + +"Not me! I say, old top, you know, I simply can't sleep in this room +now. I was wondering if you could give me a doss somewhere in +yours." + +"Rather! I'm in five-forty-one. Just above. Trot along up. Here's +the key. I'll tidy up a bit here, and join you in a minute." + +Squiffy put on a dressing-gown and disappeared. Archie looked under +the bed. From the trousers the head of Peter popped up with its +usual expression of amiable enquiry. Archie nodded pleasantly, and +sat down on the bed. The problem of his little friend's immediate +future wanted thinking over. + +He lit a cigarette and remained for a while in thought. Then he +rose. An admirable solution had presented itself. He picked Peter up +and placed him in the pocket of his dressing-gown. Then, leaving the +room, he mounted the stairs till he reached the seventh floor. +Outside a room half-way down the corridor he paused. + +From within, through the open transom, came the rhythmical snoring +of a good man taking his rest after the labours of the day. Mr. +Brewster was always a heavy sleeper. + +"There's always a way," thought Archie, philosophically, "if a +chappie only thinks of it." + +His father-in-law's snoring took on a deeper note. Archie extracted +Peter from his pocket and dropped him gently through the transom. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A LETTER FROM PARKER + + +As the days went by and he settled down at the Hotel Cosmopolis, +Archie, looking about him and revising earlier judgments, was +inclined to think that of all his immediate circle he most admired +Parker, the lean, grave valet of Mr. Daniel Brewster. Here was a man +who, living in the closest contact with one of the most difficult +persons in New York, contrived all the while to maintain an unbowed +head, and, as far as one could gather from appearances, a tolerably +cheerful disposition. A great man, judge him by what standard you +pleased. Anxious as he was to earn an honest living, Archie would +not have changed places with Parker for the salary of a movie-star. + +It was Parker who first directed Archie's attention to the hidden +merits of Pongo. Archie had drifted into his father-in-law's suite +one morning, as he sometimes did in the effort to establish more +amicable relations, and had found it occupied only by the valet, who +was dusting the furniture and bric-a-brac with a feather broom +rather in the style of a man-servant at the rise of the curtain of +an old-fashioned farce. After a courteous exchange of greetings, +Archie sat down and lit a cigarette. Parker went on dusting. + +"The guv'nor," said Parker, breaking the silence, "has some nice +little objay dar, sir." + +"Little what?" + +"Objay dar, sir." + +Light dawned upon Archie. + +"Of course, yes. French for junk. I see what you mean now. Dare say +you're right, old friend. Don't know much about these things +myself." + +Parker gave an appreciative flick at a vase on the mantelpiece. + +"Very valuable, some of the guv'nor's things." He had picked up the +small china figure of the warrior with the spear, and was grooming +it with the ostentatious care of one brushing flies off a sleeping +Venus. He regarded this figure with a look of affectionate esteem +which seemed to Archie absolutely uncalled-for. Archie's taste in +Art was not precious. To his untutored eye the thing was only one +degree less foul than his father-in-law's Japanese prints, which he +had always observed with silent loathing. "This one, now," continued +Parker. "Worth a lot of money. Oh, a lot of money." + +"What, Pongo?" said Archie incredulously. + +"Sir?" + +"I always call that rummy-looking what-not Pongo. Don't know what +else you could call him, what!" + +The valet seemed to disapprove of this levity. He shook his head and +replaced the figure on the mantelpiece. + +"Worth a lot of money," he repeated. "Not by itself, no." + +"Oh, not by itself?" + +"No, sir. Things like this come in pairs. Somewhere or other there's +the companion-piece to this here, and if the guv'nor could get hold +of it, he'd have something worth having. Something that connoozers +would give a lot of money for. But one's no good without the other. +You have to have both, if you understand my meaning, sir." + +"I see. Like filling a straight flush, what?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +Archie gazed at Pongo again, with the dim hope of discovering +virtues not immediately apparent to the casual observer. But without +success. Pongo left him cold--even chilly. He would not have taken +Pongo as a gift, to oblige a dying friend. + +"How much would the pair be worth?" he asked. "Ten dollars?" + +Parker smiled a gravely superior smile. "A leetle more than that, +sir. Several thousand dollars, more like it." + +"Do you mean to say," said Archie, with honest amazement, "that +there are chumps going about loose--absolutely loose--who would pay +that for a weird little object like Pongo?" + +"Undoubtedly, sir. These antique china figures are in great demand +among collectors." + +Archie looked at Pongo once more, and shook his head. + +"Well, well, well! It takes all sorts to make a world, what!" + +What might be called the revival of Pongo, the restoration of Pongo +to the ranks of the things that matter, took place several weeks +later, when Archie was making holiday at the house which his father- +in-law had taken for the summer at Brookport. The curtain of the +second act may be said to rise on Archie strolling back from the +golf-links in the cool of an August evening. From time to time he +sang slightly, and wondered idly if Lucille would put the finishing +touch upon the all-rightness of everything by coming to meet him and +sharing his homeward walk. + +She came in view at this moment, a trim little figure in a white +skirt and a pale blue sweater. She waved to Archie; and Archie, as +always at the sight of her, was conscious of that jumpy, fluttering +sensation about the heart, which, translated into words, would have +formed the question, "What on earth could have made a girl like that +fall in love with a chump like me?" It was a question which he was +continually asking himself, and one which was perpetually in the +mind also of Mr. Brewster, his father-in-law. The matter of Archie's +unworthiness to be the husband of Lucille was practically the only +one on which the two men saw eye to eye. + +"Hallo--allo--allo!" said Archie. "Here we are, what! I was just +hoping you would drift over the horizon," + +Lucille kissed him. + +"You're a darling," she said. "And you look like a Greek god in that +suit." + +"Glad you like it." Archie squinted with some complacency down his +chest. "I always say it doesn't matter what you pay for a suit, so +long as it's right. I hope your jolly old father will feel that way +when he settles up for it." + +"Where is father? Why didn't he come back with you?" + +"Well, as a matter of fact, he didn't seem any too keen on my +company. I left him in the locker-room chewing a cigar. Gave me the +impression of having something on his mind," + +"Oh, Archie! You didn't beat him AGAIN?" + +Archie looked uncomfortable. He gazed out to sea with something of +embarrassment. + +"Well, as a matter of fact, old thing, to be absolutely frank, I, as +it were, did!" + +"Not badly?" + +"Well, yes! I rather fancy I put it across him with some vim and not +a little emphasis. To be perfectly accurate, I licked him by ten and +eight." + +"But you promised me you would let him beat you to-day. You know how +pleased it would have made him." + +"I know. But, light of my soul, have you any idea how dashed +difficult it is to get beaten by your festive parent at golf?" + +"Oh, well!" Lucille sighed. "It can't be helped, I suppose." She +felt in the pocket of her sweater. "Oh, there's a letter for you. +I've just been to fetch the mail. I don't know who it can be from. +The handwriting looks like a vampire's. Kind of scrawly." + +Archie inspected the envelope. It provided no solution. + +"That's rummy! Who could be writing to me?" + +"Open it and see." + +"Dashed bright scheme! I will, Herbert Parker. Who the deuce is +Herbert Parker?" + +"Parker? Father's valet's name was Parker. The one he dismissed when +he found he was wearing his shirts." + +"Do you mean to say any reasonable chappie would willingly wear the +sort of shirts your father--? I mean to say, there must have been +some mistake." + +"Do read the letter. I expect he wants to use your influence with +father to have him taken back." + +"MY influence? With your FATHER? Well, I'm dashed. Sanguine sort of +Johnny, if he does. Well, here's what he says. Of course, I remember +jolly old Parker now--great pal of mine." + + Dear Sir,--It is some time since the undersigned had the + honour of conversing with you, but I am respectfully trusting + that you may recall me to mind when I mention that until + recently I served Mr. Brewster, your father-in-law, in the + capacity of valet. Owing to an unfortunate misunderstanding, + I was dismissed from that position and am now temporarily out + of a job. "How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of + the morning!" (Isaiah xiv. 12.) + +"You know," said Archie, admiringly, "this bird is hot stuff! I mean +to say he writes dashed well." + + It is not, however, with my own affairs that I desire to + trouble you, dear sir. I have little doubt that all will be + well with me and that I shall not fall like a sparrow to the + ground. "I have been young and now am old; yet have I not + seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread" + (Psalms xzxvii. 25). My object in writing to you is as + follows. You may recall that I had the pleasure of meeting + you one morning in Mr. Brewster's suite, when we had an + interesting talk on the subject of Mr. B.'s objets d'art. + You may recall being particularly interested in a small + china figure. To assist your memory, the figure to which I + allude is the one which you whimsically referred to as Pongo. + I informed you, if you remember, that, could the accompanying + figure be secured, the pair would be extremely valuable. + + I am glad to say, dear sir? that this has now transpired, and + is on view at Beale's Art Galleries on West Forty-Fifty Street, + where it will be sold to-morrow at auction, the sale commencing + at two-thirty sharp. If Mr. Brewster cares to attend, he will, + I fancy, have little trouble in securing it at a reasonable price. + I confess that I had thought of refraining from apprising my late + employer of this matter, but more Christian feelings have + prevailed. "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give + him drink; for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his + head" (Romans xii. 20). Nor, I must confess, am I altogether + uninfluenced by the thought that my action in this matter may + conceivably lead to Mr. B. consenting to forget the past and to + reinstate me in my former position. However, I am confident that + I can leave this to his good feeling. + + I remain, respectfully yours, + Herbert Parker. + +Lucille clapped her hands. + +"How splendid! Father will be pleased!" + +"Yes. Friend Parker has certainly found a way to make the old dad +fond of him. Wish I could!" + +"But you can, silly! He'll be delighted when you show him that +letter." + +"Yes, with Parker. Old Herb. Parker's is the neck he'll fall on--not +mine." + +Lucille reflected. + +"I wish--" she began. She stopped. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, Archie, +darling, I've got an idea!" + +"Decant it." + +"Why don't you slip up to New York to-morrow and buy the thing, and +give it to father as a surprise?" + +Archie patted her hand kindly. He hated to spoil her girlish day- +dreams. + +"Yes," he said. "But reflect, queen of my heart! I have at the +moment of going to press just two dollars fifty in specie, which I +took off your father this after-noon. We were playing twenty-five +cents a Hole. He coughed it up without enthusiasm--in fact, with a +nasty hacking sound--but I've got it. But that's all I have got." + +"That's all right. You can pawn that ring and that bracelet of +mine." + +"Oh, I say, what! Pop the family jewels?" + +"Only for a day or two. Of course, once you've got the thing, father +will pay us back. He would give you all the money we asked him for, +if he knew what it was for. But I want to surprise him. And if you +were to go to him and ask him for a thousand dollars without telling +him what it was for, he might refuse." + +"He might!" said Archie. "He might!" + +"It all works out splendidly. To-morrow's the Invitation Handicap, +and father's been looking forward to it for weeks. He'd hate to have +to go up to town himself and not play in it. But you can slip up and +slip back without his knowing anything about it." + +Archie pondered. + +"It sounds a ripe scheme. Yes, it has all the ear-marks of a +somewhat fruity wheeze! By Jove, it IS a fruity wheeze! It's an +egg!" + +"An egg?" + +"Good egg, you know. Halloa, here's a postscript. I didn't see it." + + P.S.--I should be glad if you would convey my most + cordial respects to Mrs. Moffam. Will you also inform + her that I chanced to meet Mr. William this morning on + Broadway, just off the boat. He desired me to send his + regards and to say that he would be joining you at + Brookport in the course of a day or so. Mr. B. will be + pleased to have him back. "A wise son maketh a glad + father" (Proverbs x. 1). + +"Who's Mr. William?" asked Archie. + +"My brother Bill, of course. I've told you all about him." + +"Oh yes, of course. Your brother Bill. Rummy to think I've got a +brother-in-law I've never seen." + +"You see, we married so suddenly. When we married, Bill was in +Yale." + +"Good God! What for?" + +"Not jail, silly. Yale. The university." + +"Oh, ah, yes." + +"Then he went over to Europe for a trip to broaden his mind. You +must look him up to-morrow when you get back to New York. He's sure +to be at his club." + +"I'll make a point of it. Well, vote of thanks to good old Parker! +This really does begin to look like the point in my career where I +start to have your forbidding old parent eating out of my hand." + +"Yes, it's an egg, isn't it!" + +"Queen of my soul," said Archie enthusiastically, "it's an +omelette!" + +The business negotiations in connection with the bracelet and the +ring occupied Archie on his arrival in New York to an extent which +made it impossible for him to call on Brother Bill before lunch. He +decided to postpone the affecting meeting of brothers-in-law to a +more convenient season, and made his way to his favourite table at +the Cosmopolis grill-room for a bite of lunch preliminary to the +fatigues of the sale. He found Salvatore hovering about as usual, +and instructed him to come to the rescue with a minute steak. + +Salvatore was the dark, sinister-looking waiter who attended, among +other tables, to the one at the far end of the grill-room at which +Archie usually sat. For several weeks Archie's conversations with +the other had dealt exclusively with the bill of fare and its +contents; but gradually he had found himself becoming more personal. +Even before the war and its democratising influences, Archie had +always lacked that reserve which characterises many Britons; and +since the war he had looked on nearly everyone he met as a brother. +Long since, through the medium of a series of friendly chats, he had +heard all about Salvatore's home in Italy, the little newspaper and +tobacco shop which his mother owned down on Seventh Avenue, and a +hundred other personal details. Archie had an insatiable curiosity +about his fellow-man. + +"Well done," said Archie. + +"Sare?" + +"The steak. Not too rare, you know." + +"Very good, sare." + +Archie looked at the waiter closely. His tone had been subdued and +sad. Of course, you don't expect a waiter to beam all over his face +and give three rousing cheers simply because you have asked him to +bring you a minute steak, but still there was something about +Salvatore's manner that disturbed Archie. The man appeared to have +the pip. Whether he was merely homesick and brooding on the lost +delights of his sunny native land, or whether his trouble was more +definite, could only be ascertained by enquiry. So Archie enquired. + +"What's the matter, laddie?" he said sympathetically. "Something on +your mind?" + +"Sare?" + +"I say, there seems to be something on your mind. What's the +trouble?" + +The waiter shrugged his shoulders, as if indicating an unwillingness +to inflict his grievances on one of the tipping classes. + +"Come on!" persisted Archie encouragingly. "All pals here. Barge +alone, old thing, and let's have it." + +Salvatore, thus admonished, proceeded in a hurried undertone--with +one eye on the headwaiter--to lay bare his soul. What he said was +not very coherent, but Archie could make out enough of it to gather +that it was a sad story of excessive hours and insufficient pay. He +mused awhile. The waiter's hard case touched him. + +"I'll tell you what," he said at last. "When jolly old Brewster +conies back to town--he's away just now--I'll take you along to him +and we'll beard the old boy in his den. I'll introduce you, and you +get that extract from Italian opera-off your chest which you've just +been singing to me, and you'll find it'll be all right. He isn't +what you might call one of my greatest admirers, but everybody says +he's a square sort of cove and he'll see you aren't snootered. And +now, laddie, touching the matter of that steak." + +The waiter disappeared, greatly cheered, and Archie, turning, +perceived that his friend Reggie van Tuyl was entering the room. He +waved to him to join his table. He liked Reggie, and it also +occurred to him that a man of the world like the heir of the van +Tuyls, who had been popping about New York for years, might be able +to give him some much-needed information on the procedure at an +auction sale, a matter on which he himself was profoundly ignorant. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DOING FATHER A BIT OF GOOD + + +Reggie Van Tuyl approached the table languidly, and sank down into a +chair. He was a long youth with a rather subdued and deflated look, +as though the burden of the van Tuyl millions was more than his +frail strength could support. Most things tired him. + +"I say, Reggie, old top," said Archie, "you're just the lad I wanted +to see. I require the assistance of a blighter of ripe intellect. +Tell me, laddie, do you know anything about sales?" + +Reggie eyed him sleepily. + +"Sales?" + +"Auction sales." + +Reggie considered. + +"Well, they're sales, you know." He checked a yawn. "Auction sales, +you understand." + +"Yes," said Archie encouragingly. "Something--the name or something +--seemed to tell me that." + +"Fellows put things up for sale you know, and other fellows--other +fellows go in and--and buy 'em, if you follow me." + +"Yes, but what's the procedure? I mean, what do I do? That's what +I'm after. I've got to buy something at Beale's this afternoon. How +do I set about it?" + +"Well," said Reggie, drowsily, "there are several ways of bidding, +you know. You can shout, or you can nod, or you can twiddle your +fingers--" The effort of concentration was too much for him. He +leaned back limply in his chair. "I'll tell you what. I've nothing +to do this afternoon. I'll come with you and show you." + +When he entered the Art Galleries a few minutes later, Archie was +glad of the moral support of even such a wobbly reed as Reggie van +Tuyl. There is something about an auction room which weighs heavily +upon the novice. The hushed interior was bathed in a dim, religious +light; and the congregation, seated on small wooden chairs, gazed in +reverent silence at the pulpit, where a gentleman of commanding +presence and sparkling pince-nez was delivering a species of chant. +Behind a gold curtain at the end of the room mysterious forms +flitted to and fro. Archie, who had been expecting something on the +lines of the New York Stock Exchange, which he had once been +privileged to visit when it was in a more than usually feverish +mood, found the atmosphere oppressively ecclesiastical. He sat down +and looked about him. The presiding priest went on with his chant. + +"Sixteen-sixteen-sixteen-sixteen-sixteen--worth three hundred-- +sixteen-sixteen-sixteen-sixteen-sixteen--ought to bring five +hundred--sixteen-sixteen-seventeen-seventeen-eighteen-eighteen- +nineteen-nineteen-nineteen." He stopped and eyed the worshippers +with a glittering and reproachful eye. They had, it seemed, +disappointed him. His lips curled, and he waved a hand towards a +grimly uncomfortable-looking chair with insecure legs and a good +deal of gold paint about it. "Gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! You +are not here to waste my time; I am not here to waste yours. Am I +seriously offered nineteen dollars for this eighteenth-century +chair, acknowledged to be the finest piece sold in New York for +months and months? Am I--twenty? I thank you. Twenty-twenty-twenty- +twenty. YOUR opportunity! Priceless. Very few extant. Twenty-five- +five-five-five-thirty-thirty. Just what you are looking for. The +only one in the City of New York. Thirty-five-five-five-five. Forty- +forty-forty-forty-forty. Look at those legs! Back it into the light, +Willie. Let the light fall on those legs!" + +Willie, a sort of acolyte, manoeuvred the chair as directed. Reggie +van Tuyl, who had been yawning in a hopeless sort of way, showed his +first flicker of interest. + +"Willie," he observed, eyeing that youth more with pity than +reproach, "has a face like Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy, don't you think +so?" + +Archie nodded briefly. Precisely the same criticism had occurred to +him. + +"Forty-five-five-five-five-five," chanted the high-priest. "Once +forty-five. Twice forty-five. Third and last call, forty-five. Sold +at forty-five. Gentleman in the fifth row." + +Archie looked up and down the row with a keen eye. He was anxious to +see who had been chump enough to give forty-five dollars for such a +frightful object. He became aware of the dog-faced Willie leaning +towards him. + +"Name, please?" said the canine one. + +"Eh, what?" said Archie. "Oh, my name's Moffam, don't you know." The +eyes of the multitude made him feel a little nervous "Er--glad to +meet you and all that sort of rot." + +"Ten dollars deposit, please," said Willie. + +"I don't absolutely follow you, old bean. What is the big thought at +the back of all this?" + +"Ten dollars deposit on the chair." + +"What chair?" + +"You bid forty-five dollars for the chair." + +"Me?" + +"You nodded," said Willie, accusingly. "If," he went on, reasoning +closely, "you didn't want to bid, why did you nod?" + +Archie was embarrassed. He could, of course, have pointed out that +he had merely nodded in adhesion to the statement that the other had +a face like Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy; but something seemed to tell +him that a purist might consider the excuse deficient in tact. He +hesitated a moment, then handed over a ten-dollar bill, the price of +Willie's feelings. Willie withdrew like a tiger slinking from the +body of its victim. + +"I say, old thing," said Archie to Reggie, "this is a bit thick, you +know. No purse will stand this drain." + +Reggie considered the matter. His face seemed drawn under the mental +strain. + +"Don't nod again," he advised. "If you aren't careful, you get into +the habit of it. When you want to bid, just twiddle your fingers. +Yes, that's the thing. Twiddle!" + +He sighed drowsily. The atmosphere of the auction room was close; +you weren't allowed to smoke; and altogether he was beginning to +regret that he had come. The service continued. Objects of varying +unattractiveness came and went, eulogised by the officiating priest, +but coldly received by the congregation. Relations between the +former and the latter were growing more and more distant. The +congregation seemed to suspect the priest of having an ulterior +motive in his eulogies, and the priest seemed to suspect the +congregation of a frivolous desire to waste his time. He had begun +to speculate openly as to why they were there at all. Once, when a +particularly repellent statuette of a nude female with an +unwholesome green skin had been offered at two dollars and had found +no bidders--the congregation appearing silently grateful for his +statement that it was the only specimen of its kind on the +continent--he had specifically accused them of having come into the +auction room merely with the purpose of sitting down and taking the +weight off their feet. + +"If your thing--your whatever-it-is, doesn't come up soon, Archie," +said Reggie, fighting off with an effort the mists of sleep, "I +rather think I shall be toddling along. What was it you came to +get?" + +"It's rather difficult to describe. It's a rummy-looking sort of +what-not, made of china or something. I call it Pongo. At least, +this one isn't Pongo, don't you know--it's his little brother, but +presumably equally foul in every respect. It's all rather +complicated, I know, but--hallo!" He pointed excitedly. "By Jove! +We're off! There it is! Look! Willie's unleasing it now!" + +Willie, who had disappeared through the gold curtain, had now +returned, and was placing on a pedestal a small china figure of +delicate workmanship. It was the figure of a warrior in a suit of +armour advancing with raised spear upon an adversary. A thrill +permeated Archie's frame. Parker had not been mistaken. This was +undoubtedly the companion-figure to the redoubtable Pongo. The two +were identical. Even from where he sat Archie could detect on the +features of the figure on the pedestal the same expression of +insufferable complacency which had alienated his sympathies from the +original Pongo. + +The high-priest, undaunted by previous rebuffs, regarded the figure +with a gloating enthusiasm wholly unshared by the congregation, who +were plainly looking upon Pongo's little brother as just another of +those things. + +"This," he said, with a shake in his voice, "is something very +special. China figure, said to date back to the Ming Dynasty. +Unique. Nothing like it on either side of the Atlantic. If I were +selling this at Christie's in London, where people," he said, +nastily, "have an educated appreciation of the beautiful, the rare, +and the exquisite, I should start the bidding at a thousand dollars. +This afternoon's experience has taught me that that might possibly +be too high." His pince-nez sparkled militantly, as he gazed upon +the stolid throng. "Will anyone offer me a dollar for this unique +figure?" + +"Leap at it, old top," said Reggie van Tuyl. "Twiddle, dear boy, +twiddle! A dollar's reasonable." + +Archie twiddled. + +"One dollar I am offered," said the high-priest, bitterly. "One +gentleman here is not afraid to take a chance. One gentleman here +knows a good thing when he sees one." He abandoned the gently +sarcastic manner for one of crisp and direct reproach. "Come, come, +gentlemen, we are not here to waste time. Will anyone offer me one +hundred dollars for this superb piece of--" He broke off, and seemed +for a moment almost unnerved. He stared at someone in one of the +seats in front of Archie. "Thank you," he said, with a sort of gulp. +"One hundred dollars I am offered! One hundred--one hundred--one +hundred--" + +Archie was startled. This sudden, tremendous jump, this wholly +unforeseen boom in Pongos, if one might so describe it, was more +than a little disturbing. He could not see who his rival was, but it +was evident that at least one among those present did not intend to +allow Pongo's brother to slip by without a fight. He looked +helplessly at Reggie for counsel, but Reggie had now definitely +given up the struggle. Exhausted nature had done its utmost, and now +he was leaning back with closed eyes, breathing softly through his +nose. Thrown on his own resources, Archie could think of no better +course than to twiddle his fingers again. He did so, and the high- +priest's chant took on a note of positive exuberance. + +"Two hundred I am offered. Much better! Turn the pedestal round, +Willie, and let them look at it. Slowly! Slowly! You aren't spinning +a roulette-wheel. Two hundred. Two-two-two-two-two." He became +suddenly lyrical. "Two-two-two--There was a young lady named Lou, +who was catching a train at two-two. Said the porter, 'Don't worry +or hurry or scurry. It's a minute or two to two-two!' Two-two-two- +two-two!" + +Archie's concern increased. He seemed to be twiddling at this +voluble man across seas of misunderstanding. Nothing is harder to +interpret to a nicety than a twiddle, and Archie's idea of the +language of twiddles and the high-priest's idea did not coincide by +a mile. The high-priest appeared to consider that, when Archie +twiddled, it was his intention to bid in hundreds, whereas in fact +Archie had meant to signify that he raised the previous bid by just +one dollar. Archie felt that, if given time, he could make this +clear to the high-priest, but the latter gave him no time. He had +got his audience, so to speak, on the run, and he proposed to hustle +them before they could rally. + +"Two hundred--two hundred--two--three--thank you, sir--three-three- +three-four-four-five-five-six-six-seven-seven-seven--" + +Archie sat limply in his wooden chair. He was conscious of a feeling +which he had only experienced twice in his life--once when he had +taken his first lesson in driving a motor and had trodden on the +accelerator instead of the brake; the second time more recently, +when he had made his first down-trip on an express lift. He had now +precisely the same sensation of being run away with by an +uncontrollable machine, and of having left most of his internal +organs at some little distance from the rest of his body. Emerging +from this welter of emotion, stood out the one clear fact that, be +the opposition bidding what it might, he must nevertheless secure +the prize. Lucille had sent him to New York expressly to do so. She +had sacrificed her jewellery for the cause. She relied on him. The +enterprise had become for Archie something almost sacred. He felt +dimly like a knight of old hot on the track of the Holy Grail. + +He twiddled again. The ring and the bracelet had fetched nearly +twelve hundred dollars. Up to that figure his hat was in the ring. + +"Eight hundred I am offered. Eight hundred. Eight-eight-eight-eight--" + +A voice spoke from somewhere at the back of the room. A quiet, cold, +nasty, determined voice. + +"Nine!" + +Archie rose from his seat and spun round. This mean attack from the +rear stung his fighting spirit. As he rose, a young man sitting +immediately in front of him rose too and stared likewise. He was a +square-built resolute-looking young man, who reminded Archie vaguely +of somebody he had seen before. But Archie was too busy trying to +locate the man at the back to pay much attention to him. He detected +him at last, owing to the fact that the eyes of everybody in that +part of the room were fixed upon him. He was a small man of middle +age, with tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles. He might have been a +professor or something of the kind. Whatever he was, he was +obviously a man to be reckoned with. He had a rich sort of look, and +his demeanour was the demeanour of a man who is prepared to fight it +out on these lines if it takes all the summer. + +"Nine hundred I am offered. Nine-nine-nine-nine--" + +Archie glared defiantly at the spectacled man. + +"A thousand!" he cried. + +The irruption of high finance into the placid course of the +afternoon's proceedings had stirred the congregation out of its +lethargy. There were excited murmurs. Necks were craned, feet +shuffled. As for the high-priest, his cheerfulness was now more than +restored, and his faith in his fellow-man had soared from the depths +to a very lofty altitude. He beamed with approval. Despite the +warmth of his praise he would have been quite satisfied to see +Pongo's little brother go at twenty dollars, and the reflection that +the bidding had already reached one thousand and that his commission +was twenty per cent, had engendered a mood of sunny happiness. + +"One thousand is bid!" he carolled. "Now, gentlemen, I don't want to +hurry you over this. You are all connoisseurs here, and you don't +want to see a priceless china figure of the Ming Dynasty get away +from you at a sacrifice price. Perhaps you can't all see the figure +where it is. Willie, take it round and show it to 'em. We'll take a +little intermission while you look carefully at this wonderful +figure. Get a move on, Willie! Pick up your feet!" + +Archie, sitting dazedly, was aware that Reggie van Tuyl had finished +his beauty sleep and was addressing the young man in the seat in +front. + +"Why, hallo," said Reggie. "I didn't know you were back. You +remember me, don't you? Reggie van Tuyl. I know your sister very +well. Archie, old man, I want you to meet my friend, Bill Brewster. +Why, dash it!" He chuckled sleepily. "I was forgetting. Of course! +He's your--" + +"How are you?" said the young man. "Talking of my sister," he said +to Reggie, "I suppose you haven't met her husband by any chance? I +suppose you know she married some awful chump?" + +"Me," said Archie. + +"How's that?" + +"I married your sister. My name's Moffam." + +The young man seemed a trifle taken aback. + +"Sorry," he said. + +"Not at all," said Archie. + +"I was only going by what my father said in his letters," he +explained, in extenuation. + +Archie nodded. + +"I'm afraid your jolly old father doesn't appreciate me. But I'm +hoping for the best. If I can rope in that rummy-looking little +china thing that Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy is showing the customers, +he will be all over me. I mean to say, you know, he's got another +like it, and, if he can get a full house, as it were, I'm given to +understand he'll be bucked, cheered, and even braced." + +The young man stared. + +"Are YOU the fellow who's been bidding against me?" + +"Eh, what? Were you bidding against ME?" + +"I wanted to buy the thing for my father. I've a special reason for +wanting to get in right with him just now. Are you buying it for +him, too?" + +"Absolutely. As a surprise. It was Lucille's idea. His valet, a +chappie named Parker, tipped us off that the thing was to be sold." + +"Parker? Great Scot! It was Parker who tipped ME off. I met him on +Broadway, and he told me about it." + +"Rummy he never mentioned it in his letter to me. Why, dash it, we +could have got the thing for about two dollars if we had pooled our +bids." + +"Well, we'd better pool them now, and extinguish that pill at the +back there. I can't go above eleven hundred. That's all I've got." + +"I can't go above eleven hundred myself." + +"There's just one thing. I wish you'd let me be the one to hand the +thing over to Father. I've a special reason for wanting to make a +hit with him." + +"Absolutely!" said Archie, magnanimously. "It's all the same to me. +I only wanted to get him generally braced, as it were, if you know +what I mean." + +"That's awfully good of you." + +"Not a bit, laddie, no, no, and far from it. Only too glad." + +Willie had returned from his rambles among the connoisseurs, and +Pongo's brother was back on his pedestal. The high-priest cleared +his throat and resumed his discourse. + +"Now that you have all seen this superb figure we will--I was +offered one thousand--one thousand-one-one-one-one--eleven hundred. +Thank you, sir. Eleven hundred I am offered." + +The high-priest was now exuberant. You could see him doing figures +in his head. + +"You do the bidding," said Brother Bill. + +"Right-o!" said Archie. + +He waved a defiant hand. + +"Thirteen," said the man at the back. + +"Fourteen, dash it!" + +"Fifteen!" + +"Sixteen!" + +"Seventeen!" + +"Eighteen!" + +"Nineteen!" + +"Two thousand!" + +The high-priest did everything but sing. He radiated good will and +bonhomie. + +"Two thousand I am offered. Is there any advance on two thousand? +Come, gentlemen, I don't want to give this superb figure away. +Twenty-one hundred. Twenty-one-one-one-one. This is more the sort of +thing I have been accustomed to. When I was at Sotheby's Rooms in +London, this kind of bidding was a common-place. Twenty-two-two-two- +two-two. One hardly noticed it. Three-three-three. Twenty-three- +three-three. Twenty-three hundred dollars I am offered." + +He gazed expectantly at Archie, as a man gazes at some favourite dog +whom he calls upon to perform a trick. But Archie had reached the +end of his tether. The hand that had twiddled so often and so +bravely lay inert beside his trouser-leg, twitching feebly. Archie +was through. + +"Twenty-three hundred," said the high-priest, ingratiatingly. + +Archie made no movement. There was a tense pause. The high-priest +gave a little sigh, like one waking from a beautiful dream. + +"Twenty-three hundred," he said. "Once twenty-three. Twice twenty- +three. Third, last, and final call, twenty-three. Sold at twenty- +three hundred. I congratulate you, sir, on a genuine bargain!" + +Reggie van Tuyl had dozed off again. Archie tapped his brother-in- +law on the shoulder. + +"May as well be popping, what?" + +They threaded their way sadly together through the crowd, and made +for the street. They passed into Fifth Avenue without breaking the +silence. + +"Bally nuisance," said Archie, at last. + +"Rotten!" + +"Wonder who that chappie was?" + +"Some collector, probably." + +"Well, it can't be helped," said Archie. + +Brother Bill attached himself to Archie's arm, and became +communicative. + +"I didn't want to mention it in front of van Tuyl," he said, +"because he's such a talking-machine, and it would have been all +over New York before dinner-time. But you're one of the family, and +you can keep a secret." + +"Absolutely! Silent tomb and what not." + +"The reason I wanted that darned thing was because I've just got +engaged to a girl over in England, and I thought that, if I could +hand my father that china figure-thing with one hand and break the +news with the other, it might help a bit. She's the most wonderful +girl!" + +"I'll bet she is," said Archie, cordially. + +"The trouble is she's in the chorus of one of the revues over there, +and Father is apt to kick. So I thought--oh, well, it's no good +worrying now. Come along where it's quiet, and I'll tell you all +about her." + +"That'll be jolly," said Archie. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +SALVATORE CHOOSES THE WRONG MOMENT + + +Archie reclaimed the family jewellery from its temporary home next +morning; and, having done so, sauntered back to the Cosmopolis. He +was surprised, on entering the lobby, to meet his father-in-law. +More surprising still, Mr. Brewster was manifestly in a mood of +extraordinary geniality. Archie could hardly believe his eyes when +the other waved cheerily to him--nor his ears a moment later when +Mr. Brewster, addressing him as "my boy," asked him how he was and +mentioned that the day was a warm one. + +Obviously this jovial frame of mind must be taken advantage of; and +Archie's first thought was of the downtrodden Salvatore, to the tale +of whose wrongs he had listened so sympathetically on the previous +day. Now was plainly the moment for the waiter to submit his +grievance, before some ebb-tide caused the milk of human kindness to +flow out of Daniel Brewster. With a swift "Cheerio!" in his father- +in-law's direction, Archie bounded into the grill-room. Salvatore, +the hour for luncheon being imminent but not yet having arrived, was +standing against the far wall in an attitude of thought. + +"Laddie!" cried Archie. + +"Sare?" + +"A most extraordinary thing has happened. Good old Brewster has +suddenly popped up through a trap and is out in the lobby now. And +what's still more weird, he's apparently bucked." + +"Sare?" + +"Braced, you know. In the pink. Pleased about something. If you go +to him now with that yarn of yours, you can't fail. He'll kiss you +on both cheeks and give you his bank-roll and collar-stud. Charge +along and ask the head-waiter if you can have ten minutes off." + +Salvatore vanished in search of the potentate named, and Archie +returned to the lobby to bask in the unwonted sunshine. + +"Well, well, well, what!" he said. "I thought you were at +Brookport." + +"I came up this morning to meet a friend of mine," replied Mr. +Brewster genially. "Professor Binstead." + +"Don't think I know him." + +"Very interesting man," said Mr. Brewster, still with the same +uncanny amiability. "He's a dabbler in a good many things--science, +phrenology, antiques. I asked him to bid for me at a sale yesterday. +There was a little china figure--" + +Archie's jaw fell. + +"China figure?" he stammered feebly. + +"Yes. The companion to one you may have noticed on my mantelpiece +upstairs. I have been trying to get the pair of them for years. I +should never have heard of this one if it had not been for that +valet of mine, Parker. Very good of him to let me know of it, +considering I had fired him. Ah, here is Binstead."-He moved to +greet the small, middle-aged man with the tortoiseshell-rimmed +spectacles who was bustling across the lobby. "Well, Binstead, so +you got it?" + +"Yes." + +"I suppose the price wasn't particularly stiff?" + +"Twenty-three hundred." + +"Twenty-three hundred!" Mr. Brewster seemed to reel in his tracks. +"Twenty-three HUNDRED!" + +"You gave me carte blanche." + +"Yes, but twenty-three hundred!" + +"I could have got it for a few dollars, but unfortunately I was a +little late, and, when I arrived, some young fool had bid it up to a +thousand, and he stuck to me till I finally shook him off at twenty- +three hundred. Why, this is the very man! Is he a friend of yours?" + +Archie coughed. + +"More a relation than a friend, what? Son-in-law, don't you know!" + +Mr. Brewster's amiability had vanished. + +"What damned foolery have you been up to NOW?" he demanded. "Can't I +move a step without stubbing my toe on you? Why the devil did you +bid?" + +"We thought it would be rather a fruity scheme. We talked it over +and came to the conclusion that it was an egg. Wanted to get hold of +the rummy little object, don't you know, and surprise you." + +"Who's we?" + +"Lucille and I." + +"But how did you hear of it at all?" + +"Parker, the valet-chappie, you know, wrote me a letter about it." + +"Parker! Didn't he tell you that he had told me the figure was to be +sold?" + +"Absolutely not!" A sudden suspicion came to Archie. He was normally +a guileless young man, but even to him the extreme fishiness of the +part played by Herbert Parker had become apparent. "I say, you know, +it looks to me as if friend Parker had been having us all on a bit, +what? I mean to say it was jolly old Herb, who tipped your son off-- +Bill, you know--to go and bid for the thing." + +"Bill! Was Bill there?" + +"Absolutely in person! We were bidding against each other like the +dickens till we managed to get together and get acquainted. And then +this bird--this gentleman--sailed in and started to slip it across +us." + +Professor Binstead chuckled--the care-free chuckle of a man who sees +all those around him smitten in the pocket, while he himself remains +untouched. + +"A very ingenious rogue, this Parker of yours, Brewster. His method +seems to have been simple but masterly. I have no doubt that either +he or a confederate obtained the figure and placed it with the +auctioneer, and then he ensured a good price for it by getting us +all to bid against each other. Very ingenious!" + +Mr. Brewster struggled with his feelings. Then he seemed to overcome +them and to force himself to look on the bright side. + +"Well, anyway," he said. "I've got the pair of figures, and that's +what I wanted. Is that it in that parcel?" + +"This is it. I wouldn't trust an express company to deliver it. +Suppose we go up to your room and see how the two look side by +side." + +They crossed the lobby to the lift.-The cloud was still on Mr. +Brewster's brow as they stepped out and made their way to his suite. +Like most men who have risen from poverty to wealth by their own +exertions, Mr. Brewster objected to parting with his money +unnecessarily, and it was plain that that twenty-three hundred +dollars still rankled. + +Mr. Brewster unlocked the door and crossed the room. Then, suddenly, +he halted, stared, and stared again. He sprang to the bell and +pressed it, then stood gurgling wordlessly. + +"Anything wrong, old bean?" queried Archie, solicitously. + +"Wrong! Wrong! It's gone!" + +"Gone?" + +"The figure!" + +The floor-waiter had manifested himself silently in answer to the +bell, and was standing in the doorway. + +"Simmons!" Mr. Brewster turned to him wildly. "Has anyone been in +this suite since I went away?" + +"No, sir." + +"Nobody?" + +"Nobody except your valet, sir--Parker. He said he had come to fetch +some things away. I supposed he had come from you, sir, with +instructions." + +"Get out!" + +Professor Binstead had unwrapped his parcel, and had placed the +Pongo on the table. There was a weighty silence. Archie picked up +the little china figure and balanced it on the palm of his hand. It +was a small thing, he reflected philosophically, but it had made +quite a stir in the world. + +Mr. Brewster fermented for a while without speaking. + +"So," he said, at last, in a voice trembling with self-pity, "I have +been to all this trouble--" + +"And expense," put in Professor Binstead, gently. + +"Merely to buy back something which had been stolen from me! And, +owing to your damned officiousness," he cried, turning on Archie, "I +have had to pay twenty-three hundred dollars for it! I don't know +why they make such a fuss about Job. Job never had anything like you +around!" + +"Of course," argued Archie, "he had one or two boils." + +"Boils! What are boils?" + +"Dashed sorry," murmured Archie. "Acted for the best. Meant well. +And all that sort of rot!" + +Professor Binstead's mind seemed occupied to the exclusion of all +other aspects of the affair, with the ingenuity of the absent +Parker. + +"A cunning scheme!" he said. "A very cunning scheme! This man Parker +must have a brain of no low order. I should like to feel his bumps!" + +"I should like to give him some!" said the stricken Mr. Brewster. He +breathed a deep breath. "Oh, well," he said, "situated as I am, with +a crook valet and an imbecile son-in-law, I suppose I ought to be +thankful that I've still got my own property, even if I have had to +pay twenty-three hundred dollars for the privilege of keeping it." +He rounded on Archie, who was in a reverie. The thought of the +unfortunate Bill had just crossed Archie's mind. It would be many +moons, many weary moons, before Mr. Brewster would be in a suitable +mood to listen sympathetically to the story of love's young dream. +"Give me that figure!" + +Archie continued to toy absently with Pongo. He was wondering now +how best to break this sad occurrence to Lucille. It would be a +disappointment for the poor girl. + +"GIVE ME THAT FIGURE!" + +Archie started violently. There was an instant in which Pongo seemed +to hang suspended, like Mohammed's coffin, between heaven and earth, +then the force of gravity asserted itself. Pongo fell with a sharp +crack and disintegrated. And as it did so there was a knock at the +door, and in walked a dark, furtive person, who to the inflamed +vision of Mr. Daniel Brewster looked like something connected with +the executive staff of the Black Hand. With all time at his +disposal, the unfortunate Salvatore had selected this moment for +stating his case. + +"Get out!" bellowed Mr. Brewster. "I didn't ring for a waiter." + +Archie, his mind reeling beneath the catastrophe, recovered himself +sufficiently to do the honours. It was at his instigation that +Salvatore was there, and, greatly as he wished that he could have +seen fit to choose a more auspicious moment for his business chat, +he felt compelled to do his best to see him through. + +"Oh, I say, half a second," he said. "You don't quite understand. As +a matter of fact, this chappie is by way of being downtrodden and +oppressed and what not, and I suggested that he should get hold of +you and speak a few well-chosen words. Of course, if you'd rather-- +some other time--" + +But Mr. Brewster was not permitted to postpone the interview. Before +he could get his breath, Salvatore had begun to talk. He was a +strong, ambidextrous talker, whom it was hard to interrupt; and it +was not for some moments that Mr. Brewster succeeded in getting a +word in. When he did, he spoke to the point. Though not a linguist, +he had been able to follow the discourse closely enough to realise +that the waiter was dissatisfied with conditions in his hotel; and +Mr. Brewster, as has been indicated, had a short way with people who +criticised the Cosmopolis. + +"You're fired!" said Mr. Brewster. + +"Oh, I say!" protested Archie. + +Salvatore muttered what sounded like a passage from Dante. + +"Fired!" repeated Mr. Brewster resolutely. "And I wish to heaven," +he added, eyeing his son-in-law malignantly, "I could fire you!" + +"Well," said Professor Binstead cheerfully, breaking the grim +silence which followed this outburst, "if you will give me your +cheque, Brewster, I think I will be going. Two thousand three +hundred dollars. Make it open, if you will, and then I can run round +the corner and cash it before lunch. That will be capital!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +BRIGHT EYES--AND A FLY + + +The Hermitage (unrivalled scenery, superb cuisine, Daniel Brewster, +proprietor) was a picturesque summer hotel in the green heart of the +mountains, built by Archie's father-in-law shortly after he assumed +control of the Cosmopolis. Mr. Brewster himself seldom went there, +preferring to concentrate his attention on his New York +establishment; and Archie and Lucille, breakfasting in the airy +dining-room some ten days after the incidents recorded in the last +chapter, had consequently to be content with two out of the three +advertised attractions of the place. Through the window at their +side quite a slab of the unrivalled scenery was visible; some of the +superb cuisine was already on the table; and the fact that the eye +searched in vain for Daniel Brewster, proprietor, filled Archie, at +any rate, with no sense of aching loss. He bore it with equanimity +and even with positive enthusiasm. In Archie's opinion, practically +all a place needed to make it an earthly Paradise was for Mr. Daniel +Brewster to be about forty-seven miles away from it. + +It was at Lucille's suggestion that they had come to the Hermitage. +Never a human sunbeam, Mr. Brewster had shown such a bleak front to +the world, and particularly to his son-in-law, in the days following +the Pongo incident, that Lucille had thought that he and Archie +would for a time at least be better apart--a view with which her +husband cordially agreed. He had enjoyed his stay at the Hermitage, +and now he regarded the eternal hills with the comfortable affection +of a healthy man who is breakfasting well. + +"It's going to be another perfectly topping day," he observed, +eyeing the shimmering landscape, from which the morning mists were +swiftly shredding away like faint puffs of smoke. "Just the day you +ought to have been here." + +"Yes, it's too bad I've got to go. New York will be like an oven." + +"Put it off." + +"I can't, I'm afraid. I've a fitting." + +Archie argued no further. He was a married man of old enough +standing to know the importance of fittings. + +"Besides," said Lucille, "I want to see father." Archie repressed an +exclamation of astonishment. "I'll be back to-morrow evening. You +will be perfectly happy." + +"Queen of my soul, you know I can't be happy with you away. You +know--" + +"Yes?" murmured Lucille, appreciately. She never tired of hearing +Archie say this sort of thing. + +Archie's voice had trailed off. He was looking across the room. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "What an awfully pretty woman!" + +"Where?" + +"Over there. Just coming in, I say, what wonderful eyes! I don't +think I ever saw such eyes. Did you notice her eyes? Sort of +flashing! Awfully pretty woman!" + +Warm though the morning was, a suspicion of chill descended upon the +breakfast-table. A certain coldness seemed to come into Lucille's +face. She could not always share Archie's fresh young enthusiasms. + +"Do you think so?" + +"Wonderful figure, too!" + +"Yes?" + +"Well, what I mean to say, fair to medium," said Archie, recovering +a certain amount of that intelligence which raises man above the +level of the beasts of the field. "Not the sort of type I admire +myself, of course." + +"You know her, don't you?" + +"Absolutely not and far from it," said Archie, hastily. "Never met +her in my life." + +"You've seen her on the stage. Her name's Vera Silverton. We saw her +in--" + +"Of course, yes. So we did. I say, I wonder what she's doing here? +She ought to be in New York, rehearsing. I remember meeting what's- +his-name--you know--chappie who writes plays and what not--George +Benham--I remember meeting George Benham, and he told me she was +rehearsing in a piece of his called--I forget the name, but I know +it was called something or other. Well, why isn't she?" + +"She probably lost her temper and broke her contract and came away. +She's always doing that sort of thing. She's known for it. She must +be a horrid woman." + +"Yes." + +"I don't want to talk about her. She used to be married to someone, +and she divorced him. And then she was married to someone else, and +he divorced her. And I'm certain her hair wasn't that colour two +years ago, and I don't think a woman ought to make up like that, and +her dress is all wrong for the country, and those pearls can't be +genuine, and I hate the way she rolls her eyes about, and pink +doesn't suit her a bit. I think she's an awful woman, and I wish you +wouldn't keep on talking about her." + +"Right-o!" said Archie, dutifully. + +They finished breakfast, and Lucille went up to pack her bag. Archie +strolled out on to the terrace outside the hotel, where he smoked, +communed with nature, and thought of Lucille. He always thought of +Lucille when he was alone, especially when he chanced to find +himself in poetic surroundings like those provided by the unrivalled +scenery encircling the Hotel Hermitage. The longer he was married to +her the more did the sacred institution seem to him a good egg. Mr. +Brewster might regard their marriage as one of the world's most +unfortunate incidents, but to Archie it was, and always had been, a +bit of all right. The more he thought of it the more did he marvel +that a girl like Lucille should have been content to link her lot +with that of a Class C specimen like himself. His meditations were, +in fact, precisely what a happily-married man's meditations ought to +be. + +He was roused from them by a species of exclamation or cry almost at +his elbow, and turned to find that the spectacular Miss Silverton +was standing beside him. Her dubious hair gleamed in the sunlight, +and one of the criticised eyes was screwed up. The other gazed at +Archie with an expression of appeal. + +"There's something in my eye," she said. + +"No, really!" + +"I wonder if you would mind? It would be so kind of you!" + +Archie would have preferred to remove himself, but no man worthy of +the name can decline to come to the rescue of womanhood in distress. +To twist the lady's upper lid back and peer into it and jab at it +with the corner of his handkerchief was the only course open to him. +His conduct may be classed as not merely blameless but definitely +praiseworthy. King Arthur's knights used to do this sort of thing +all the time, and look what people think of them. Lucille, +therefore, coming out of the hotel just as the operation was +concluded, ought not to have felt the annoyance she did. But, of +course, there is a certain superficial intimacy about the attitude +of a man who is taking a fly out of a woman's eye which may +excusably jar upon the sensibilities of his wife. It is an attitude +which suggests a sort of rapprochement or camaraderie or, as Archie +would have put it, what not. + +"Thanks so much!" said Miss Silverton. + +"Oh no, rather not," said Archie. + +"Such a nuisance getting things in your eye." + +"Absolutely!" + +"I'm always doing it!" + +"Rotten luck!" + +"But I don't often find anyone as clever as you to help me." + +Lucille felt called upon to break in on this feast of reason and +flow of soul. + +"Archie," she said, "if you go and get your clubs now, I shall just +have time to walk round with you before my train goes." + +"Oh, ah!" said Archie, perceiving her for the first time. "Oh, ah, +yes, right-o, yes, yes, yes!" + +On the way to the first tee it seemed to Archie that Lucille was +distrait and abstracted in her manner; and it occurred to him, not +for the first time in his life, what a poor support a clear +conscience is in moments of crisis. Dash it all, he didn't see what +else he could have done. Couldn't leave the poor female staggering +about the place with squads of flies wedged in her eyeball. +Nevertheless-- + +"Rotten thing getting a fly in your eye," he hazarded at length. +"Dashed awkward, I mean." + +"Or convenient." + +"Eh?" + +"Well, it's a very good way of dispensing with an introduction." + +"Oh, I say! You don't mean you think--" + +"She's a horrid woman!" + +"Absolutely! Can't think what people see in her." + +"Well, you seemed to enjoy fussing over her!" + +"No, no! Nothing of the kind! She inspired me with absolute what- +d'you-call-it--the sort of thing chappies do get inspired with, you +know." + +"You were beaming all over your face." + +"I wasn't. I was just screwing up my face because the sun was in my +eye." + +"All sorts of things seem to be in people's eyes this morning!" + + Archie was saddened. That this sort of misunderstanding should have +occurred on such a topping day and at a moment when they were to be +torn asunder for about thirty-six hours made him feel--well, it gave +him the pip. He had an idea that there were words which would have +straightened everything out, but he was not an eloquent young man +and could not find them. He felt aggrieved. Lucille, he considered, +ought to have known that he was immune as regarded females with +flashing eyes and experimentally-coloured hair. Why, dash it, he +could have extracted flies from the eyes of Cleopatra with one hand +and Helen of Troy with the other, simultaneously, without giving +them a second thought. It was in depressed mood that he played a +listless nine holes; nor had life brightened for him when he came +back to the hotel two hours later, after seeing Lucille off in the +train to New York. Never till now had they had anything remotely +resembling a quarrel. Life, Archie felt, was a bit of a wash-out. He +was disturbed and jumpy, and the sight of Miss Silverton, talking to +somebody on a settee in the corner of the hotel lobby, sent him +shooting off at right angles and brought him up with a bump against +the desk behind which the room-clerk sat. + +The room-clerk, always of a chatty disposition, was saying something +to him, but Archie did not listen. He nodded mechanically. It was +something about his room. He caught the word "satisfactory." + +"Oh, rather, quite!" said Archie. + +A fussy devil, the room-clerk! He knew perfectly well that Archie +found his room satisfactory. These chappies gassed on like this so +as to try to make you feel that the management took a personal +interest in you. It was part of their job. Archie beamed absently +and went in to lunch. Lucille's empty seat stared at him mournfully, +increasing his sense of desolation. + +He was half-way through his lunch, when the chair opposite ceased to +be vacant. Archie, transferring his gaze from the scenery outside +the window, perceived that his friend, George Benham, the +playwright, had materialised from nowhere and was now in his midst. + +"Hallo!" he said. + +George Benham was a grave young man whose spectacles gave him the +look of a mournful owl. He seemed to have something on his mind +besides the artistically straggling mop of black hair which swept +down over his brow. He sighed wearily, and ordered fish-pie. + +"I thought I saw you come through the lobby just now," he said. + +"Oh, was that you on the settee, talking to Miss Silverton?" + +"She was talking to ME," said the playwright, moodily. + +"What are you doing here?" asked Archie. He could have wished Mr. +Benham elsewhere, for he intruded on his gloom, but, the chappie +being amongst those present, it was only civil to talk to him. "I +thought you were in New York, watching the rehearsals of your jolly +old drama." + +"The rehearsals are hung up. And it looks as though there wasn't +going to be any drama. Good Lord!" cried George Benham, with honest +warmth, "with opportunities opening out before one on every side-- +with life extending prizes to one with both hands--when you see +coal-heavers making fifty dollars a week and the fellows who clean +out the sewers going happy and singing about their work--why does a +man deliberately choose a job like writing plays? Job was the only +man that ever lived who was really qualified to write a play, and he +would have found it pretty tough going if his leading woman had been +anyone like Vera Silverton!" + +Archie--and it was this fact, no doubt, which accounted for his +possession of such a large and varied circle of friends--was always +able to shelve his own troubles in order to listen to other people's +hard-luck stories. + +"Tell me all, laddie," he said. "Release the film! Has she walked +out on you?" + +"Left us flat! How did you hear about it? Oh, she told you, of +course?" + +Archie hastened to try to dispel the idea that he was on any such +terms of intimacy with Miss Silverton. + +"No, no! My wife said she thought it must be something of that +nature or order when we saw her come in to breakfast. I mean to +say," said Archie, reasoning closely, "woman can't come into +breakfast here and be rehearsing in New York at the same time. Why +did she administer the raspberry, old friend?" + +Mr. Benham helped himself to fish-pie, and spoke dully through the +steam. + +"Well, what happened was this. Knowing her as intimately as you do--" + +"I DON'T know her!" + +"Well, anyway, it was like this. As you know, she has a dog--" + +"I didn't know she had a dog," protested Archie. It seemed to him +that the world was in conspiracy to link him with this woman. + +"Well, she has a dog. A beastly great whacking brute of a bulldog. +And she brings it to rehearsal." Mr. Benham's eyes filled with +tears, as in his emotion he swallowed a mouthful of fish-pie some +eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit hotter than it looked. In the +intermission caused by this disaster his agile mind skipped a few +chapters of the story, and, when he was able to speak again, he +said, "So then there was a lot of trouble. Everything broke loose!" + +"Why?" Archie was puzzled. "Did the management object to her +bringing the dog to rehearsal?" + +"A lot of good that would have done! She does what she likes in the +theatre." + +"Then why was there trouble?" + +"You weren't listening," said Mr. Benham, reproachfully. "I told +you. This dog came snuffling up to where I was sitting--it was quite +dark in the body of the theatre, you know--and I got up to say +something about something that was happening on the stage, and +somehow I must have given it a push with my foot." + +"I see," said Archie, beginning to get the run of the plot. "You +kicked her dog." + +"Pushed it. Accidentally. With my foot." + +"I understand. And when you brought off this kick--" + +"Push," said Mr. Benham, austerely. + +"This kick or push. When you administered this kick or push--" + +"It was more a sort of light shove." + +"Well, when you did whatever you did, the trouble started?" + +Mr. Benham gave a slight shiver. + +"She talked for a while, and then walked out, taking the dog with +her. You see, this wasn't the first time it had happened." + +"Good Lord! Do you spend your whole time doing that sort of thing?" + +"It wasn't me the first time. It was the stage-manager. He didn't +know whose dog it was, and it came waddling on to the stage, and he +gave it a sort of pat, a kind of flick--" + +"A slosh?" + +"NOT a slosh," corrected Mr. Benham, firmly. "You might call it a +tap--with the promptscript. Well, we had a lot of difficulty +smoothing her over that time. Still, we managed to do it, but she +said that if anything of the sort occurred again she would chuck up +her part." + +"She must be fond of the dog," said Archie, for the first time +feeling a touch of goodwill and sympathy towards the lady. + +"She's crazy about, it. That's what made it so awkward when I +happened--quite inadvertently--to give it this sort of accidental +shove. Well, we spent the rest of the day trying to get her on the +'phone at her apartment, and finally we heard that she had come +here. So I took the next train, and tried to persuade her to come +back. She wouldn't listen. And that's how matters stand." + +"Pretty rotten!" said Archie, sympathetically. + +"You can bet it's pretty rotten--for me. There's nobody else who can +play the part. Like a chump, I wrote the thing specially for her. It +means the play won't be produced at all, if she doesn't do it. So +you're my last hope!" + +Archie, who was lighting a cigarette, nearly swallowed it. + +"_I_ am?" + +"I thought you might persuade her. Point out to her what a lot hangs +on her coming back. Jolly her along, YOU know the sort of thing!" + +"But, my dear old friend, I tell you I don't know her!" + +Mr. Benham's eyes opened behind their zareba of glass. + +"Well, she knows YOU. When you came through the lobby just now she +said that you were the only real human being she had ever met." + +"Well, as a matter of fact, I did take a fly out of her eye. But--" + +"You did? Well, then, the whole thing's simple. All you have to do +is to ask her how her eye is, and tell her she has the most +beautiful eyes you ever saw, and coo a bit." + +"But, my dear old son!" The frightful programme which his friend had +mapped out stunned Archie. "I simply can't! Anything to oblige and +all that sort of thing, but when it comes to cooing, distinctly +Napoo!" + +"Nonsense! It isn't hard to coo." + +"You don't understand, laddie. You're not a married man. I mean to +say, whatever you say for or against marriage--personally I'm all +for it and consider it a ripe egg--the fact remains that it +practically makes a chappie a spent force as a cooer. I don't want +to dish you in any way, old bean, but I must firmly and resolutely +decline to coo." + +Mr. Benham rose and looked at his watch. + +"I'll have to be moving," he said. "I've got to get back to New York +and report. I'll tell them that I haven't been able to do anything +myself, but that I've left the matter in good hands. I know you will +do your best." + +"But, laddie!" + +"Think," said Mr. Benham, solemnly, "of all that depends on it! The +other actors! The small-part people thrown out of a job! Myself--but +no! Perhaps you had better touch very lightly or not at all on my +connection with the thing. Well, you know how to handle it. I feel I +can leave it to you. Pitch it strong! Good-bye, my dear old man, and +a thousand thanks. I'll do the same for you another time." He moved +towards the door, leaving Archie transfixed. Half-way there he +turned and came back. "Oh, by the way," he said, "my lunch. Have it +put on your bill, will you? I haven't time to stay and settle. Good- +bye! Good-bye!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +RALLYING ROUND PERCY + + +It amazed Archie through the whole of a long afternoon to reflect +how swiftly and unexpectedly the blue and brilliant sky of life can +cloud over and with what abruptness a man who fancies that his feet +are on solid ground can find himself immersed in Fate's gumbo. He +recalled, with the bitterness with which one does recall such +things, that that morning he had risen from his bed without a care +in the world, his happiness unruffled even by the thought that +Lucille would be leaving him for a short space. He had sung in his +bath. Yes, he had chirruped like a bally linnet. And now-- + +Some men would have dismissed the unfortunate affairs of Mr. George +Benham from their mind as having nothing to do with themselves, but +Archie had never been made of this stern stuff. The fact that Mr. +Benham, apart from being an agreeable companion with whom he had +lunched occasionally in New York, had no claims upon him affected +him little. He hated to see his fellowman in trouble. On the other +hand, what could he do? To seek Miss Silverton out and plead with +her--even if he did it without cooing--would undoubtedly establish +an intimacy between them which, instinct told him, might tinge her +manner after Lucille's return with just that suggestion of Auld Lang +Syne which makes things so awkward. + +His whole being shrank from extending to Miss Silverton that inch +which the female artistic temperament is so apt to turn into an ell; +and when, just as he was about to go in to dinner, he met her in the +lobby and she smiled brightly at him and informed him that her eye +was now completely recovered, he shied away like a startled mustang +of the prairie, and, abandoning his intention of worrying the table +d'hote in the same room with the amiable creature, tottered off to +the smoking-room, where he did the best he could with sandwiches and +coffee. + +Having got through the time as best he could till eleven o'clock, he +went up to bed. + +The room to which he and Lucille had been assigned by the management +was on the second floor, pleasantly sunny by day and at night filled +with cool and heartening fragrance of the pines. Hitherto Archie had +always enjoyed taking a final smoke on the balcony overlooking the +woods, but, to-night such was his mental stress that he prepared to +go to bed directly he had closed the door. He turned to the cupboard +to get his pyjamas. + +His first thought, when even after a second scrutiny no pyjamas were +visible, was that this was merely another of those things which +happen on days when life goes wrong. He raked the cupboard for a +third time with an annoyed eye. From every hook hung various +garments of Lucille's, but no pyjamas. He was breathing a soft +malediction preparatory to embarking on a point-to-point hunt for +his missing property, when something in the cupboard caught his eye +and held him for a moment puzzled. + +He could have sworn that Lucille did not possess a mauve neglige. +Why, she had told him a dozen times that mauve was a colour which +she did not like. He frowned perplexedly; and as he did so, from +near the window came a soft cough. + +Archie spun round and subjected the room to as close a scrutiny as +that which he had bestowed upon the cupboard. Nothing was visible. +The window opening on to the balcony gaped wide. The balcony was +manifestly empty. + +"URRF!" + +This time there was no possibility of error. The cough had come from +the immediate neighbourhood of the window. + +Archie was conscious of a pringly sensation about the roots of his +closely-cropped back-hair, as he moved cautiously across the room. +The affair was becoming uncanny; and, as he tip-toed towards the +window, old ghost stories, read in lighter moments before cheerful +fires with plenty of light in the room, flitted through his mind. He +had the feeling--precisely as every chappie in those stories had +had--that he was not alone. + +Nor was he. In a basket behind an arm-chair, curled up, with his +massive chin resting on the edge of the wicker-work, lay a fine +bulldog. + +"Urrf!" said the bulldog. + +"Good God!" said Archie. + +There was a lengthy pause in which the bulldog looked earnestly at +Archie and Archie looked earnestly at the bulldog. + +Normally, Archie was a dog-lover. His hurry was never so great as to +prevent him stopping, when in the street, and introducing himself to +any dog he met. In a strange house, his first act was to assemble +the canine population, roll it on its back or backs, and punch it in +the ribs. As a boy, his earliest ambition had been to become a +veterinary surgeon; and, though the years had cheated him of his +career, he knew all about dogs, their points, their manners, their +customs, and their treatment in sickness and in health. In short, he +loved dogs, and, had they met under happier conditions, he would +undoubtedly have been on excellent terms with this one within the +space of a minute. But, as things were, he abstained from +fraternising and continued to goggle dumbly. + +And then his eye, wandering aside, collided with the following +objects: a fluffy pink dressing-gown, hung over the back of a chair, +an entirely strange suit-case, and, on the bureau, a photograph in a +silver frame of a stout gentleman in evening-dress whom he had never +seen before in his life. + +Much has been written of the emotions of the wanderer who, returning +to his childhood home, finds it altered out of all recognition; but +poets have neglected the theme--far more poignant--of the man who +goes up to his room in an hotel and finds it full of somebody else's +dressing-gowns and bulldogs. + +Bulldogs! Archie's heart jumped sideways and upwards with a wiggling +movement, turning two somersaults, and stopped beating. The hideous +truth, working its way slowly through the concrete, had at last +penetrated to his brain. He was not only in somebody else's room, +and a woman's at that. He was in the room belonging to Miss Vera +Silverton. + +He could not understand it. He would have been prepared to stake the +last cent he could borrow from his father-in-law on the fact that he +had made no error in the number over the door. Yet, nevertheless, +such was the case, and, below par though his faculties were at the +moment, he was sufficiently alert to perceive that it behoved him to +withdraw. + +He leaped to the door, and, as he did so, the handle began to turn. + +The cloud which had settled on Archie's mind lifted abruptly. For an +instant he was enabled to think about a hundred times more quickly +than was his leisurely wont. Good fortune had brought him to within +easy reach of the electric-light switch. He snapped it back, and was +in darkness. Then, diving silently and swiftly to the floor, he +wriggled under the bed. The thud of his head against what appeared +to be some sort of joist or support, unless it had been placed there +by the maker as a practical joke, on the chance of this kind of +thing happening some day, coincided with the creak of the opening +door. Then the light was switched on again, and the bulldog in the +corner gave a welcoming woofle. + +"And how is mamma's precious angel?" + +Rightly concluding that the remark had not been addressed to himself +and that no social obligation demanded that he reply, Archie pressed +his cheek against the boards and said nothing. The question was not +repeated, but from the other side of the room came the sound of a +patted dog. + +"Did he think his muzzer had fallen down dead and was never coming +up?" + +The beautiful picture which these words conjured up filled Archie +with that yearning for the might-have-been which is always so +painful. He was finding his position physically as well as mentally +distressing. It was cramped under the bed, and the boards were +harder than anything he had ever encountered. Also, it appeared to +be the practice of the housemaids at the Hotel Hermitage to use the +space below the beds as a depository for all the dust which they +swept off the carpet, and much of this was insinuating itself into +his nose and mouth. The two things which Archie would have liked +most to do at that moment were first to kill Miss Silverton--if +possible, painfully--and then to spend the remainder of his life +sneezing. + +After a prolonged period he heard a drawer open, and noted the fact +as promising. As the old married man, he presumed that it signified +the putting away of hair-pins. About now the dashed woman would be +looking at herself in the glass with her hair down. Then she would +brush it. Then she would twiddle it up into thingummies. Say, ten +minutes for this. And after that she would go to bed and turn out +the light, and he would be able, after giving her a bit of time to +go to sleep, to creep out and leg it. Allowing at a conservative +estimate three-quarters of-- + +"Come out!" + +Archie stiffened. For an instant a feeble hope came to him that this +remark, like the others, might be addressed to the dog. + +"Come out from under that bed!" said a stern voice. "And mind how +you come! I've got a pistol!" + +"Well, I mean to say, you know," said Archie, in a propitiatory +voice, emerging from his lair like a tortoise and smiling as +winningly as a man can who has just bumped his head against the leg +of a bed, "I suppose all this seems fairly rummy, but--" + +"For the love of Mike!" said Miss Silverton. + +The point seemed to Archie well taken and the comment on the +situation neatly expressed. + +"What are you doing in my room?" + +"Well, if it comes to that, you know--shouldn't have mentioned it if +you hadn't brought the subject up in the course of general chit- +chat--what are you doing in mine?" + +"Yours?" + +"Well, apparently there's been a bloomer of some species somewhere, +but this was the room I had last night," said Archie. + +"But the desk-clerk said that he had asked you if it would be quite +satisfactory to you giving it up to me, and you said yes. I come +here every summer, when I'm not working, and I always have this +room." + +"By Jove! I remember now. The chappie did say something to me about +the room, but I was thinking of something else and it rather went +over the top. So that's what he was talking about, was it?" + +Miss Silverton was frowning. A moving-picture director, scanning her +face, would have perceived that she was registering disappointment. + +"Nothing breaks right for me in this darned world," she said, +regretfully. "When I caught sight of your leg sticking out from +under the bed, I did think that everything was all lined up for a +real find ad. at last. I could close my eyes and see the thing in +the papers. On the front page, with photographs: 'Plucky Actress +Captures Burglar.' Darn it!" + +"Fearfully sorry, you know!" + +"I just needed something like that. I've got a Press-agent, and I +will say for him that he eats well and sleeps well and has just +enough intelligence to cash his monthly cheque without forgetting +what he went into the bank for, but outside of that you can take it +from me he's not one of the world's workers! He's about as much +solid use to a girl with aspirations as a pain in the lower ribs. +It's three weeks since he got me into print at all, and then the +brightest thing he could thing up was that my favourite breakfast- +fruit was an apple. Well, I ask you!" + +"Rotten!" said Archie. + +"I did think that for once my guardian angel had gone back to work +and was doing something for me. 'Stage Star and Midnight Marauder,' +" murmured Miss Silverton, wistfully. "'Footlight Favourite Foils +Felon.'" + +"Bit thick!" agreed Archie, sympathetically. "Well, you'll probably +be wanting to get to bed and all that sort of rot, so I may as well +be popping, what! Cheerio!" + +A sudden gleam came into Miss Silverton's compelling eyes. + +"Wait!" + +"Eh?" + +"Wait! I've got an idea!" The wistful sadness had gone from her +manner. She was bright and alert. "Sit down!" + +"Sit down?" + +"Sure. Sit down and take the chill off the arm-chair. I've thought +of something." + +Archie sat down as directed. At his elbow the bulldog eyed him +gravely from the basket. + +"Do they know you in this hotel?" + +"Know me? Well, I've been here about a week." + +"I mean, do they know who you are? Do they know you're a good +citizen?" + +"Well, if it comes to that, I suppose they don't. But--" + +"Fine!" said Miss Silverton, appreciatively. "Then it's all right. +We can carry on!" + +"Carry on!" + +"Why, sure! All I want is to get the thing into the papers. It +doesn't matter to me if it turns out later that there was a mistake +and that you weren't a burglar trying for my jewels after all. It +makes just as good a story either way. I can't think why that never +struck me before. Here have I been kicking because you weren't a +real burglar, when it doesn't amount to a hill of beans whether you +are or not. All I've got to do is to rush out and yell and rouse the +hotel, and they come in and pinch you, and I give the story to the +papers, and everything's fine!" + +Archie leaped from his chair. + +"I say! What!" + +"What's on your mind?" enquired Miss Silverton, considerately. +"Don't you think it's a nifty scheme?" + +"Nifty! My dear old soul! It's frightful!" + +"Can't see what's wrong with it," grumbled Miss Silverton. "After +I've had someone get New York on the long-distance 'phone and give +the story to the papers you can explain, and they'll let you out. +Surely to goodness you don't object, as a personal favour to me, to +spending an hour or two in a cell? Why, probably they haven't got a +prison at all out in these parts, and you'll simply be locked in a +room. A child of ten could do it on his head," said Miss Silverton. +"A child of six," she emended. + +"But, dash it--I mean--what I mean to say--I'm married!" + +"Yes?" said Miss Silverton, with the politeness of faint interest. +"I've been married myself. I wouldn't say it's altogether a bad +thing, mind you, for those that like it, but a little of it goes a +long way. My first husband," she proceeded, reminiscently, "was a +travelling man. I gave him a two-weeks' try-out, and then I told him +to go on travelling. My second husband--now, HE wasn't a gentleman +in any sense of the word. I remember once--" + +"You don't grasp the point. The jolly old point! You fail to grasp +it. If this bally thing comes out, my wife will be most frightfully +sick!" + +Miss Silverton regarded him with pained surprise. + +"Do you mean to say you would let a little thing like that stand in +the way of my getting on the front page of all the papers--WITH +photographs? Where's your chivalry?" + +"Never mind my dashed chivalry!" + +"Besides, what does it matter if she does get a little sore? She'll +soon get over it. You can put that right. Buy her a box of candy. +Not that I'm strong for candy myself. What I always say is, it may +taste good, but look what it does to your hips! I give you my honest +word that, when I gave up eating candy, I lost eleven ounces the +first week. My second husband--no, I'm a liar, it was my third--my +third husband said--Say, what's the big idea? Where are you going?" + +"Out!" said Archie, firmly. "Bally out!" + +A dangerous light flickered in Miss Silverton's eyes. + +"That'll be all of that!" she said, raising the pistol. "You stay +right where you are, or I'll fire!" + +"Right-o!" + +"I mean it!" + +"My dear old soul," said Archie, "in the recent unpleasantness in +France I had chappies popping off things like that at me all day and +every day for close on five years, and here I am, what! I mean to +say, if I've got to choose between staying here and being pinched in +your room by the local constabulary and having the dashed thing get +into the papers and all sorts of trouble happening, and my wife +getting the wind up and--I say, if I've got to choose--" + +"Suck a lozenge and start again!" said Miss Silverton. + +"Well, what I mean to say is, I'd much rather take a chance of +getting a bullet in the old bean than that. So loose it off and the +best o' luck!" + +Miss Silverton lowered the pistol, sank into a chair, and burst into +tears. + +"I think you're the meanest man I ever met!" she sobbed. "You know +perfectly well the bang would send me into a fit!" + +"In that case," said Archie, relieved, "cheerio, good luck, pip-pip, +toodle-oo, and good-bye-ee! I'll be shifting!" + +"Yes, you will!" cried Miss Silverton, energetically, recovering +with amazing swiftness from her collapse. "Yes, you will, I by no +means suppose! You think, just because I'm no champion with a +pistol, I'm helpless. You wait! Percy!" + +"My name is not Percy." + +"I never said it was. Percy! Percy, come to muzzer!" + +There was a creaking rustle from behind the arm-chair. A heavy body +flopped on the carpet. Out into the room, heaving himself along as +though sleep had stiffened his joints, and breathing stertorously +through his tilted nose, moved the fine bulldog. Seen in the open, +he looked even more formidable than he had done in his basket. + +"Guard him, Percy! Good dog, guard him! Oh, heavens! What's the +matter with him?" + +And with these words the emotional woman, uttering a wail of +anguish, flung herself on the floor beside the animal. + +Percy was, indeed, in manifestly bad shape. He seemed quite unable +to drag his limbs across the room. There was a curious arch in his +back, and, as his mistress touched him, he cried out plaintively, + +"Percy! Oh, what IS the matter with him? His nose is burning!" + +Now was the time, with both sections of the enemy's forces occupied, +for Archie to have departed softly from the room. But never, since +the day when at the age of eleven he had carried a large, damp, and +muddy terrier with a sore foot three miles and deposited him on the +best sofa in his mother's drawing-room, had he been able to ignore +the spectacle of a dog in trouble. + +"He does look bad, what!" + +"He's dying! Oh, he's dying! Is it distemper? He's never had +distemper." + +Archie regarded the sufferer with the grave eye of the expert. He +shook his head. + +"It's not that," he said. "Dogs with distemper make a sort of +snifting noise." + +"But he IS making a snifting noise!" + +"No, he's making a snuffling noise. Great difference between +snuffling and snifting. Not the same thing at all. I mean to say, +when they snift they snift, and when they snuffle they--as it were-- +snuffle. That's how you can tell. If you ask ME"--he passed his hand +over the dog's back. Percy uttered another cry. "I know what's the +matter with him." + +"A brute of a man kicked him at rehearsal. Do you think he's injured +internally?" + +"It's rheumatism," said Archie. "Jolly old rheumatism. That's all +that's the trouble." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Absolutely!" + +"But what can I do?" + +"Give him a good hot bath, and mind and dry him well. He'll have a +good sleep then, and won't have any pain. Then, first thing to- +morrow, you want to give him salicylate of soda." + +"I'll never remember that."-"I'll write it down for you. You ought +to give him from ten to twenty grains three times a day in an ounce +of water. And rub him with any good embrocation." + +"And he won't die?" + +"Die! He'll live to be as old as you are!-I mean to say--" + +"I could kiss you!" said Miss Silverton, emotionally. + +Archie backed hastily. + +"No, no, absolutely not! Nothing like that required, really!" + +"You're a darling!" + +"Yes. I mean no. No, no, really!" + +"I don't know what to say. What can I say?" + +"Good night," said Archie. + +"I wish there was something I could do! If you hadn't been here, I +should have gone off my head!" + +A great idea flashed across Archie's brain. + +"Do you really want to do something?" + +"Anything!" + +"Then I do wish, like a dear sweet soul, you would pop straight back +to New York to-morrow and go on with those rehearsals." + +Miss Silverton shook her head. + +"I can't do that!" + +"Oh, right-o! But it isn't much to ask, what!" + +"Not much to ask! I'll never forgive that man for kicking Percy!" + +"Now listen, dear old soul. You've got the story all wrong. As a +matter of fact, jolly old Benham told me himself that he has the +greatest esteem and respect for Percy, and wouldn't have kicked him +for the world. And, you know it was more a sort of push than a kick. +You might almost call it a light shove. The fact is, it was beastly +dark in the theatre, and he was legging it sideways for some reason +or other, no doubt with the best motives, and unfortunately he +happened to stub his toe on the poor old bean." + +"Then why didn't he say so?" + +"As far as I could make out, you didn't give him a chance." + +Miss Silverton wavered. + +"I always hate going back after I've walked out on a show," she +said. "It seems so weak!" + +"Not a bit of it! They'll give three hearty cheers and think you a +topper. Besides, you've got to go to New York in any case. To take +Percy to a vet., you know, what!" + +"Of course. How right you always are!" Miss Silverton hesitated +again. "Would you really be glad if I went back to the show?" + +"I'd go singing about the hotel! Great pal of mine, Benham. A +thoroughly cheery old bean, and very cut up about the whole affair. +Besides, think of all the coves thrown out of work--the +thingummabobs and the poor what-d'you-call-'ems!" + +"Very well." + +"You'll do it?" + +"Yes." + +"I say, you really are one of the best! Absolutely like mother made! +That's fine! Well, I think I'll be saying good night." + +"Good night. And thank you so much!" + +"Oh, no, rather not!" + +Archie moved to the door. + +"Oh, by the way." + +"Yes?" + +"If I were you, I think I should catch the very first train you can +get to New York. You see--er--you ought to take Percy to the vet. as +soon as ever you can." + +"You really do think of everything," said Miss Silverton. + +"Yes," said Archie, meditatively. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SAD CASE OF LOONEY BIDDLE + + +Archie was a simple soul, and, as is the case with most simple +souls, gratitude came easily to him. He appreciated kind treatment. +And when, on the following day, Lucille returned to the Hermitage, +all smiles and affection, and made no further reference to Beauty's +Eyes and the flies that got into them, he was conscious of a keen +desire to show some solid recognition of this magnanimity. Few +wives, he was aware, could have had the nobility and what not to +refrain from occasionally turning the conversation in the direction +of the above-mentioned topics. It had not needed this behaviour on +her part to convince him that Lucille was a topper and a corker and +one of the very best, for he had been cognisant of these facts since +the first moment he had met her: but what he did feel was that she +deserved to be rewarded in no uncertain manner. And it seemed a +happy coincidence to him that her birthday should be coming along in +the next week or so. Surely, felt Archie, he could whack up some +sort of a not unjuicy gift for that occasion--something pretty ripe +that would make a substantial hit with the dear girl. Surely +something would come along to relieve his chronic impecuniosity for +just sufficient length of time to enable him to spread himself on +this great occasion. + +And, as if in direct answer to prayer, an almost forgotten aunt in +England suddenly, out of an absolutely blue sky, shot no less a sum +than five hundred dollars across the ocean. The present was so +lavish and unexpected that Archie had the awed feeling of one who +participates in a miracle. He felt, like Herbert Parker, that the +righteous was not forsaken. It was the sort of thing that restored a +fellow's faith in human nature. For nearly a week he went about in a +happy trance: and when, by thrift and enterprise--that is to say, by +betting Reggie van Tuyl that the New York Giants would win the +opening game of the series against the Pittsburg baseball team--he +contrived to double his capital, what it amounted to was simply that +life had nothing more to offer. He was actually in a position to go +to a thousand dollars for Lucille's birthday present. He gathered in +Mr. van Tuyl, of whose taste in these matters he had a high opinion, +and dragged him off to a jeweller's on Broadway. + +The jeweller, a stout, comfortable man, leaned on the counter and +fingered lovingly the bracelet which he had lifted out of its nest +of blue plush. Archie, leaning on the other side of the counter, +inspected the bracelet searchingly, wishing that he knew more about +these things; for he had rather a sort of idea that the merchant was +scheming to do him in the eyeball. In a chair by his side, Reggie +van Tuyl, half asleep as usual, yawned despondently. He had +permitted Archie to lug him into this shop; and he wanted to buy +something and go. Any form of sustained concentration fatigued +Reggie. + +"Now this," said the jeweller, "I could do at eight hundred and +fifty dollars." + +"Grab it!" murmured Mr. van Tuyl. + +The jeweller eyed him approvingly, a man after his own heart; but +Archie looked doubtful. It was all very well for Reggie to tell him +to grab it in that careless way. Reggie was a dashed millionaire, +and no doubt bought bracelets by the pound or the gross or what not; +but he himself was in an entirely different position. + +"Eight hundred and fifty dollars!" he said, hesitating. + +"Worth it," mumbled Reggie van Tuyl. + +"More than worth it," amended the jeweller. "I can assure you that +it is better value than you could get anywhere on Fifth Avenue." + +"Yes?" said Archie. He took the bracelet and twiddled it +thoughtfully. "Well, my dear old jeweller, one can't say fairer than +that, can one--or two, as the case may be!" He frowned. "Oh, well, +all right! But it's rummy that women are so fearfully keen on these +little thingummies, isn't it? I mean to say, can't see what they see +in them. Stones, and all that. Still, there, it is, of course!" + +"There," said the jeweller, "as you say, it is, sir." + +"Yes, there it is!" + +"Yes, there it is," said the jeweller, "fortunately for people in my +line of business. Will you take it with you, sir?" + +Archie reflected. + +"No. No, not take it with me. The fact is, you know, my wife's +coming back from the country to-night, and it's her birthday to- +morrow, and the thing's for her, and, if it was popping about the +place to-night, she might see it, and it would sort of spoil the +surprise. I mean to say, she doesn't know I'm giving it her, and all +that!" + +"Besides," said Reggie, achieving a certain animation now that the +tedious business interview was concluded, "going to the ball-game +this afternoon--might get pocket picked--yes, better have it sent." + +"Where shall I send it, sir?" + +"Eh? Oh, shoot it along to Mrs. Archibald Moffam, at the Cosmopolis. +Not to-day, you know. Buzz it in first thing to-morrow." + +Having completed the satisfactory deal, the jeweller threw off the +business manner and became chatty. + +"So you are going to the ball-game? It should be an interesting +contest." + +Reggie van Tuyl, now--by his own standards--completely awake, took +exception to this remark. + +"Not a bit of it!" he said, decidedly. "No contest! Can't call it a +contest! Walkover for the Pirates!" + +Archie was stung to the quick. There is that about baseball which +arouses enthusiasm and the partisan spirit in the unlikeliest +bosoms. It is almost impossible for a man to live in America and not +become gripped by the game; and Archie had long been one of its +warmest adherents. He was a whole-hearted supporter of the Giants, +and his only grievance against Reggie, in other respects an +estimable young man, was that the latter, whose money had been +inherited from steel-mills in that city, had an absurd regard for +the Pirates of Pittsburg. + +"What absolute bally rot!" he exclaimed. "Look what the Giants did +to them yesterday!" + +"Yesterday isn't to-day," said Reggie. + +"No, it'll be a jolly sight worse," said Archie. "Looney Biddle'll +be pitching for the Giants to-day." + +"That's just what I mean. The Pirates have got him rattled. Look +what happened last time." + +Archie understood, and his generous nature chafed at the innuendo. +Looney Biddle--so-called by an affectionately admiring public as the +result of certain marked eccentricities--was beyond dispute the +greatest left-handed pitcher New York had possessed in the last +decade. But there was one blot on Mr. Biddle's otherwise stainless +scutcheon. Five weeks before, on the occasion of the Giants' +invasion of Pittsburg, he had gone mysteriously to pieces. Few +native-born partisans, brought up to baseball from the cradle, had +been plunged into a profounder gloom on that occasion than Archie; +but his soul revolted at the thought that that sort of thing could +ever happen again. + +"I'm not saying," continued Reggie, "that Biddle isn't a very fair +pitcher, but it's cruel to send him against the Pirates, and +somebody ought to stop it. His best friends should interfere. Once a +team gets a pitcher rattled, he's never any good against them again. +He loses his nerve." + +The jeweller nodded approval of this sentiment. + +"They never come back," he said, sententiously. + +The fighting blood of the Moffams was now thoroughly stirred. Archie +eyed his friend sternly. Reggie was a good chap--in many respects an +extremely sound egg--but he must not be allowed to talk rot of this +description about the greatest left-handed pitcher of the age. + +"It seems to me, old companion," he said, "that a small bet is +indicated at this juncture. How about it?" + +"Don't want to take your money." + +"You won't have to! In the cool twilight of the merry old summer +evening I, friend of my youth and companion of my riper years, shall +be trousering yours." + +Reggie yawned. The day was very hot, and this argument was making +him feel sleepy again. + +"Well, just as you like, of course. Double or quits on yesterday's +bet, if that suits you." + +For a moment Archie hesitated. Firm as his faith was in Mr. Biddle's +stout left arm, he had not intended to do the thing on quite this +scale. That thousand dollars of his was earmarked for Lucille's +birthday present, and he doubted whether he ought to risk it. Then +the thought that the honour of New York was in his hands decided +him. Besides, the risk was negligible. Betting on Looney Biddle was +like betting on the probable rise of the sun in the east. The thing +began to seem to Archie a rather unusually sound and conservative +investment. He remembered that the jeweller, until he drew him +firmly but kindly to earth and urged him to curb his exuberance and +talk business on a reasonable plane, had started brandishing +bracelets that cost about two thousand. There would be time to pop +in at the shop this evening after the game and change the one he had +selected for one of those. Nothing was too good for Lucille on her +birthday. + +"Right-o!" he said. "Make it so, old friend!" + +Archie walked back to the Cosmopolis. No misgivings came to mar his +perfect contentment. He felt no qualms about separating Reggie from +another thousand dollars. Except for a little small change in the +possession of the Messrs. Rockefeller and Vincent Astor, Reggie had +all the money in the world and could afford to lose. He hummed a gay +air as he entered the lobby and crossed to the cigar-stand to buy a +few cigarettes to see him through the afternoon. + +The girl behind the cigar counter welcomed him with a bright smile. +Archie was popular with all the employes of the Cosmopolis. + +"'S a great day, Mr. Moffam!" + +"One of the brightest and best," Agreed Archie. "Could you dig me +out two, or possibly three, cigarettes of the usual description? I +shall want something to smoke at the ball-game." + +"You going to the ball-game?" + +"Rather! Wouldn't miss it for a fortune." + +"No?" + +"Absolutely no! Not with jolly old Biddle pitching." + +The cigar-stand girl laughed amusedly. + +"Is he pitching this afternoon? Say, that feller's a nut? D'you know +him?" + +"Know him? Well, I've seen him pitch and so forth." + +"I've got a girl friend who's engaged to him!" + +Archie looked at her with positive respect. It would have been more +dramatic, of course, if she had been engaged to the great man +herself, but still the mere fact that she had a girl friend in that +astounding position gave her a sort of halo. + +"No, really!" he said. "I say, by Jove, really! Fancy that!" + +"Yes, she's engaged to him all right. Been engaged close on a coupla +months now." + +"I say! That's frightfully interesting! Fearfully interesting, +really!" + +"It's funny about that guy," said the cigar-stand girl. "He's a nut! +The fellow who said there's plenty of room at the top must have been +thinking of Gus Biddle's head! He's crazy about m' girl friend, y' +know, and, whenever they have a fuss, it seems like he sort of flies +right off the handle." + +"Goes in off the deep end, eh?" + +"Yes, SIR! Loses what little sense he's got. Why, the last time him +and m' girl friend got to scrapping was when he was going on to +Pittsburg to play, about a month ago. He'd been out with her the day +he left for there, and he had a grouch or something, and he started +making low, sneaky cracks about her Uncle Sigsbee. Well, m' girl +friend's got a nice disposition, but she c'n get mad, and she just +left him flat and told him all was over. And he went off to +Pittsburg, and, when he started in to pitch the opening game, he +just couldn't keep his mind on his job, and look what them assassins +done to him! Five runs in the first innings! Yessir, he's a nut all +right!" + +Archie was deeply concerned. So this was the explanation of that +mysterious disaster, that weird tragedy which had puzzled the +sporting press from coast to coast. + +"Good God! Is he often taken like that?" + +"Oh, he's all right when he hasn't had a fuss with m' girl friend," +said the cigar-stand girl, indifferently. Her interest in baseball +was tepid. Women are too often like this--mere butterflies, with no +concern for the deeper side of life. + +"Yes, but I say! What I mean to say, you know! Are they pretty pally +now? The good old Dove of Peace flapping its little wings fairly +briskly and all that?" + +"Oh, I guess everything's nice and smooth just now. I seen m' girl +friend yesterday, and Gus was taking her to the movies last night, +so I guess everything's nice and smooth." + +Archie breathed a sigh of relief. + +"Took her to the movies, did he? Stout fellow!" + +"I was at the funniest picture last week," said the cigar-stand +girl. "Honest, it was a scream! It was like this--" + +Archie listened politely; then went in to get a bite of lunch. His +equanimity, shaken by the discovery of the rift in the peerless +one's armour, was restored. Good old Biddle had taken the girl to +the movies last night. Probably he had squeezed her hand a goodish +bit in the dark. With what result? Why, the fellow would be feeling +like one of those chappies who used to joust for the smiles of +females in the Middle Ages. What he meant to say, presumably the +girl would be at the game this afternoon, whooping him on, and good +old Biddle would be so full of beans and buck that there would be no +holding him. + +Encouraged by these thoughts, Archie lunched with an untroubled +mind. Luncheon concluded, he proceeded to the lobby to buy back his +hat and stick from the boy brigand with whom he had left them. It +was while he was conducting this financial operation that he +observed that at the cigar-stand, which adjoined the coat-and-hat +alcove, his friend behind the counter had become engaged in +conversation with another girl. + +This was a determined looking young woman in a blue dress and a +large hat of a bold and flowery species, Archie happening to attract +her attention, she gave him a glance out of a pair of fine brown +eyes, then, as if she did not think much of him, turned to her +companion and resumed their conversation--which, being of an +essentially private and intimate nature, she conducted, after the +manner of her kind, in a ringing soprano which penetrated into every +corner of the lobby. Archie, waiting while the brigand reluctantly +made change for a dollar bill, was privileged to hear every word. + +"Right from the start I seen he was in a ugly mood. YOU know how he +gets, dearie! Chewing his upper lip and looking at you as if you +were so much dirt beneath his feet! How was _I_ to know he'd lost +fifteen dollars fifty-five playing poker, and anyway, I don't see +where he gets a licence to work off his grouches on me. And I told +him so. I said to him, 'Gus,' I said, 'if you can't be bright and +smiling and cheerful when you take me out, why do you come round at +all? Was I wrong or right, dearie?" + +The girl behind the counter heartily endorsed her conduct. "Once you +let a man think he could use you as a door-mat, where were you?" + +"What happened then, honey?" + +"Well, after that we went to the movies." + +Archie started convulsively. The change from his dollar-bill leaped +in his hand. Some of it sprang overboard and tinkled across the +floor, with the brigand in pursuit. A monstrous suspicion had begun, +to take root in his mind. + +"Well, we got good seats, but--well, you know how it is, once things +start going wrong. You know that hat of mine, the one with the +daisies and cherries and the feather--I'd taken it off and given it +him to hold when we went in, and what do you think that fell'r'd +done? Put it on the floor and crammed it under the seat, just to +save himself the trouble of holding it on his lap! And, when I +showed him I was upset, all he said was that he was a pitcher and +not a hatstand!" + +Archie was paralysed. He paid no attention to the hat-check boy, who +was trying to induce him to accept treasure-trove to the amount of +forty-five cents. His whole being was concentrated on this frightful +tragedy which had burst upon him like a tidal wave. No possible room +for doubt remained. "Gus" was the only Gus in New York that +mattered, and this resolute and injured female before him was the +Girl Friend, in whose slim hands rested the happiness of New York's +baseball followers, the destiny of the unconscious Giants, and the +fate of his thousand dollars. A strangled croak proceeded from his +parched lips. + +"Well, I didn't say anything at the moment. It just shows how them +movies can work on a girl's feelings. It was a Bryant Washburn film, +and somehow, whenever I see him on the screen, nothing else seems to +matter. I just get that goo-ey feeling, and couldn't start a fight +if you asked me to. So we go off to have a soda, and I said to him, +'That sure was a lovely film, Gus!' and would you believe me, he +says straight out that he didn't think it was such a much, and he +thought Bryant Washburn was a pill! A pill!" The Girl Friend's +penetrating voice shook with emotion. + +"He never!" exclaimed the shocked cigar-stand girl. + +"He did, if I die the next moment! I wasn't more than half-way +through my vanilla and maple, but I got up without a word and left +him. And I ain't seen a sight of him since. So there you are, +dearie! Was I right or wrong?" + +The cigar-stand girl gave unqualified approval. What men like Gus +Biddle needed for the salvation of their souls was an occasional +good jolt right where it would do most good. + +"I'm glad you think I acted right, dearie," said the Girl Friend. "I +guess I've been too weak with Gus, and he's took advantage of it. I +s'pose I'll have to forgive him one of these old days, but, believe +me, it won't be for a week." + +The cigar-stand girl was in favour of a fortnight. + +"No," said the Girl Friend, regretfully. "I don't believe I could +hold out that long. But, if I speak to him inside a week, well--! +Well, I gotta be going. Goodbye, honey." + +The cigar-stand girl turned to attend to an impatient customer, and +the Girl Friend, walking with the firm and decisive steps which +indicate character, made for the swing-door leading to the street. +And as she went, the paralysis which had pipped Archie relased its +hold. Still ignoring the forty-five cents which the boy continued to +proffer, he leaped in her wake like a panther and came upon her just +as she was stepping into a car. The car was full, but not too full +for Archie. He dropped his five cents into the box and reached for a +vacant strap. He looked down upon the flowered hat. There she was. +And there he was. Archie rested his left ear against the forearm of +a long, strongly-built young man in a grey suit who had followed him +into the car and was sharing his strap, and pondered. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +SUMMER STORMS + + +Of course, in a way, the thing was simple. The wheeze was, in a +sense, straightforward and uncomplicated. What he wanted to do was +to point out to the injured girl all that hung on her. He wished to +touch her heart, to plead with her, to desire her to restate her +war-aims, and to persuade her--before three o'clock when that +stricken gentleman would be stepping into the pitcher's box to loose +off the first ball against the Pittsburg Pirates--to let bygones be +bygones and forgive Augustus Biddle. But the blighted problem was, +how the deuce to find the opportunity to start. He couldn't yell at +the girl in a crowded street-car; and, if he let go of his strap and +bent over her, somebody would step on his neck. + +The Girl Friend, who for the first five minutes had remained +entirely concealed beneath her hat, now sought diversion by looking +up and examining the faces of the upper strata of passengers. Her +eye caught Archie's in a glance of recognition, and he smiled +feebly, endeavouring to register bonhomie and good-will. He was +surprised to see a startled expression come into her brown eyes. Her +face turned pink. At least, it was pink already, but it turned +pinker. The next moment, the car having stopped to pick up more +passengers, she jumped off and started to hurry across the street. + +Archie was momentarily taken aback. When embarking on this business +he had never intended it to become a blend of otter-hunting and a +moving-picture chase. He followed her off the car with a sense that +his grip on the affair was slipping. Preoccupied with these +thoughts, he did not perceive that the long young man who had shared +his strap had alighted too. His eyes were fixed on the vanishing +figure of the Girl Friend, who, having buzzed at a smart pace into +Sixth Avenue, was now legging it in the direction of the staircase +leading to one of the stations of the Elevated Railroad. Dashing up +the stairs after her, he shortly afterwards found himself suspended +as before from a strap, gazing upon the now familiar flowers on top +of her hat. From another strap farther down the carriage swayed the +long young man in the grey suit. + +The train rattled on. Once or twice, when it stopped, the girl +seemed undecided whether to leave or remain. She half rose, then +sank back again. Finally she walked resolutely out of the car, and +Archie, following, found himself in a part of New York strange to +him. The inhabitants of this district appeared to eke out a +precarious existence, not by taking in one another's washing, but by +selling one another second-hand clothes. + +Archie glanced at his watch. He had lunched early, but so crowded +with emotions had been the period following lunch that he was +surprised to find that the hour was only just two. The discovery was +a pleasant one. With a full hour before the scheduled start of the +game, much might be achieved. He hurried after the girl, and came us +with her just as she turned the comer into one of those forlorn New +York side-streets which are populated chiefly by children, cats, +desultory loafers, and empty meat-tins. + +The girl stopped and turned. Archie smiled a winning smile. + +"I say, my dear sweet creature!" he said. "I say, my dear old thing, +one moment!" + +"Is that so?" said the Girl Friend. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"Is that so?" + +Archie began to feel certain tremors. Her eyes were gleaming, and +her determined mouth had become a perfectly straight line of +scarlet. It was going to be difficult to be chatty to this girl. She +was going to be a hard audience. Would mere words be able to touch +her heart? The thought suggested itself that, properly speaking, one +would need to use a pick-axe. + +"If you could spare me a couples of minutes of your valuable time--" + +"Say!" The lady drew herself up menacingly. "You tie a can to +yourself and disappear! Fade away, or I'll call a cop!" + +Archie was horrified at this misinterpretation of his motives. One +or two children, playing close at hand, and a loafer who was trying +to keep the wall from falling down, seemed pleased. Theirs was a +colourless existence and to the rare purple moments which had +enlivened it in the past the calling of a cop had been the unfailing +preliminary. The loafer nudged a fellow-loafer, sunning himself +against the same wall. The children, abandoning the meat-tin round +which their game had centred, drew closer. + +"My dear old soul!" said Archie. "You don't understand!" + +"Don't I! I know your sort, you trailing arbutus!" + +"No, no! My dear old thing, believe me! I wouldn't dream!" + +"Are you going or aren't you?" + +Eleven more children joined the ring of spectators. The loafers +stared silently, like awakened crocodiles. + +"But, I say, listen! I only wanted--" + +At this point another voice spoke. + +"Say!" + +The word "Say!" more almost than any word in the American language, +is capable of a variety of shades of expression. It can be genial, +it can be jovial, it can be appealing. It can also be truculent The +"Say!" which at this juncture smote upon Archie's ear-drum with a +suddenness which made him leap in the air was truculent; and the two +loafers and twenty-seven children who now formed the audience were +well satisfied with the dramatic development of the performance. To +their experienced ears the word had the right ring. + +Archie spun round. At his elbow stood a long, strongly-built young +man in a grey suit. + +"Well!" said the young man, nastily. And he extended a large, +freckled face toward Archie's. It seemed to the latter, as he backed +against the wall, that the young man's neck must be composed of +india-rubber. It appeared to be growing longer every moment. His +face, besides being freckled, was a dull brick-red in colour; his +lips curled back in an unpleasant snarl, showing a gold tooth; and +beside him, swaying in an ominous sort of way, hung two clenched red +hands about the size of two young legs of mutton. Archie eyed him +with a growing apprehension. There are moments in life when, passing +idly on our way, we see a strange face, look into strange eyes, and +with a sudden glow of human warmth say to ourselves, "We have found +a friend!" This was not one of those moments. The only person Archie +had ever seen in his life who looked less friendly was the sergeant- +major who had trained him in the early days of the war, before he +had got his commission. + +"I've had my eye on you!" said the young man. + +He still had his eye on him. It was a hot, gimlet-like eye, and it +pierced the recesses of Archie's soul. He backed a little farther +against the wall. + +Archie was frankly disturbed. He was no poltroon, and had proved the +fact on many occasions during the days when the entire German army +seemed to be picking on him personally, but he hated and shrank from +anything in the nature of a bally public scene. + +"What," enquired the young man, still bearing the burden of the +conversation, and shifting his left hand a little farther behind his +back, "do you mean by following this young lady?" + +Archie was glad he had asked him. This was precisely what he wanted +to explain. + +"My dear old lad--" he began. + +In spite of the fact that he had asked a question and presumably +desired a reply, the sound of Archie's voice seemed to be more than +the young man could endure. It deprived him of the last vestige of +restraint. With a rasping snarl he brought his left fist round in a +sweeping semicircle in the direction of Archie's head. + +Archie was no novice in the art of self-defence. Since his early +days at school he had learned much from leather-faced professors of +the science. He had been watching this unpleasant young man's eyes +with close attention, and the latter could not have indicated his +scheme of action more clearly if he had sent him a formal note. +Archie saw the swing all the way. He stepped nimbly aside, and the +fist crashed against the wall. The young man fell back with a yelp +of anguish. + +"Gus!" screamed the Girl Friend, bounding forward. + +She flung her arms round the injured man, who was ruefully examining +a hand which, always of an out-size, was now swelling to still +further dimensions. + +"Gus, darling!" + +A sudden chill gripped Archie. So engrossed had he been with, his +mission that it had never occurred to him that the love-lorn pitcher +might have taken it into his head to follow the girl as well in the +hope of putting in a word for himself. Yet such apparently had been +the case. Well, this had definitely torn it. Two loving hearts were +united again in complete reconciliation, but a fat lot of good that +was. It would be days before the misguided Looney Biddle would be +able to pitch with a hand like that. It looked like a ham already, +and was still swelling. Probably the wrist was sprained. For at +least a week the greatest left-handed pitcher of his time would be +about as much use to the Giants in any professional capacity as a +cold in the head. And on that crippled hand depended the fate of all +the money Archie had in the world. He wished now that he had not +thwarted the fellow's simple enthusiasm. To have had his head +knocked forcibly through a brick wall would not have been pleasant, +but the ultimate outcome would not have been as unpleasant as this. +With a heavy heart Archie prepared to withdraw, to be alone with his +sorrow. + +At this moment, however, the Girl Friend, releasing her wounded +lover, made a sudden dash for him, with the plainest intention of +blotting him from the earth. + +"No, I say! Really!" said Archie, bounding backwards. "I mean to +say!" + +In a series of events, all of which had been a bit thick, this, in +his opinion, achieved the maximum of thickness. It was the extreme +ragged, outside edge of the limit. To brawl with a fellow-man in a +public street had been bad, but to be brawled with by a girl--the +shot was not on the board. Absolutely not on the board. There was +only one thing to be done. It was dashed undignified, no doubt, for +a fellow to pick up the old waukeesis and leg it in the face of the +enemy, but there was no other course. Archie started to run; and, as +he did so, one of the loafers made the mistake of gripping him by +the collar of his coat. + +"I got him!" observed the loafer.-There is a time for all things. +This was essentially not the time for anyone of the male sex to grip +the collar of Archie's coat. If a syndicate of Dempsey, Carpentier, +and one of the Zoo gorillas had endeavoured to stay his progress at +that moment, they would have had reason to consider it a rash move. +Archie wanted to be elsewhere, and the blood of generations of +Moffams, many of whom had swung a wicked axe in the free-for-all +mix-ups of the Middle Ages, boiled within him at any attempt to +revise his plans. There was a good deal of the loafer, but it was +all soft. Releasing his hold when Archie's heel took him shrewdly on +the shin, he received a nasty punch in what would have been the +middle of his waistcoat if he had worn one, uttered a gurgling bleat +like a wounded sheep, and collapsed against the wall. Archie, with a +torn coat, rounded the corner, and sprinted down Ninth Avenue. + +The suddenness of the move gave him an initial advantage. He was +halfway down the first block before the vanguard of the pursuit +poured out of the side street. Continuing to travel well, he skimmed +past a large dray which had pulled up across the road, and moved on. +The noise of those who pursued was loud and clamorous in the rear, +but the dray hid him momentarily from their sight, and it was this +fact which led Archie, the old campaigner, to take his next step. + +It was perfectly obvious--he was aware of this even in the novel +excitement of the chase--that a chappie couldn't hoof it at twenty- +five miles an hour indefinitely along a main thoroughfare of a great +city without exciting remark. He must take cover. Cover! That was +the wheeze. He looked about him for cover. + +"You want a nice suit?" + +It takes a great deal to startle your commercial New Yorker. The +small tailor, standing in his doorway, seemed in no way surprised at +the spectacle of Archie, whom he had seen pass at a conventional +walk some five minutes before, returning like this at top speed. He +assumed that Archie had suddenly remembered that he wanted to buy +something. + +This was exactly what Archie had done. More than anything else in +the world, what he wanted to do now was to get into that shop and +have a long talk about gents' clothing. Pulling himself up abruptly, +he shot past the small tailor into the dim interior. A confused +aroma of cheap clothing greeted him. Except for a small oasis behind +a grubby counter, practically all the available space was occupied +by suits. Stiff suits, looking like the body when discovered by the +police, hung from hooks. Limp suits, with the appearance of having +swooned from exhaustion, lay about on chairs and boxes. The place +was a cloth morgue, a Sargasso Sea of serge. + +Archie would not have had it otherwise. In these quiet groves of +clothing a regiment could have lain hid. + +"Something nifty in tweeds?" enquired the business-like proprietor +of this haven, following him amiably into the shop, "Or, maybe, yes, +a nice serge? Say, mister, I got a sweet thing in blue serge that'll +fit you like the paper on the wall!" + +Archie wanted to talk about clothes, but not yet. + +"I say, laddie," he said, hurriedly. "Lend me, your ear for half a +jiffy!" Outside the baying of the pack had become imminent. "Stow me +away for a moment in the undergrowth, and I'll buy anything you +want." + +He withdrew into the jungle. The noise outside grew in volume. The +pursuit had been delayed for a priceless few instants by the arrival +of another dray, moving northwards, which had drawn level with the +first dray and dexterously bottled up the fairway. This obstacle had +now been overcome, and the original searchers, their ranks swelled +by a few dozen more of the leisured classes, were hot on the trail +again. + +"You done a murder?" enquired the voice of the proprietor, mildly +interested, filtering through a wall of cloth. "Well, boys will be +boys!" he said, philosophically. "See anything there that you like? +There some sweet things there!" + +"I'm inspecting them narrowly," replied Archie. "If you don't let +those chappies find me, I shouldn't be surprised if I bought one." + +"One?" said the proprietor, with a touch of austerity. + +"Two," said Archie, quickly. "Or possibly three or six." + +The proprietor's cordiality returned. + +"You can't have too many nice suits," he said, approvingly, "not a +young feller like you that wants to look nice. All the nice girls +like a young feller that dresses nice. When you go out of here in a +suit I got hanging up there at the back, the girls 'll be all over +you like flies round a honey-pot." + +"Would you mind," said Archie, "would you mind, as a personal favour +to me, old companion, not mentioning that word 'girls'?" + +He broke off. A heavy foot had crossed the threshold of the shop. + +"Say, uncle," said a deep voice, one of those beastly voices that +only the most poisonous blighters have, "you seen a young feller run +past here?" + +"Young feller?" The proprietor appeared to reflect. "Do you mean a +young feller in blue, with a Homburg hat?" + +"That's the duck! We lost him. Where did he go?" + +"Him! Why, he come running past, quick as he could go. I wondered +what he was running for, a hot day like this. He went round the +corner at the bottom of the block." + +There was a silence. + +"Well, I guess he's got away," said the voice, regretfully. + +"The way he was travelling," agreed the proprietor, "I wouldn't be +surprised if he was in Europe by this. You want a nice suit?" + +The other, curtly expressing a wish that the proprietor would go to +eternal perdition and take his entire stock with him, stumped out. + +"This," said the proprietor, tranquilly, burrowing his way to where +Archie stood and exhibiting a saffron-coloured outrage, which +appeared to be a poor relation of the flannel family, "would put you +back fifty dollars. And cheap!" + +"Fifty dollars!" + +"Sixty, I said. I don't speak always distinct." + +Archie regarded the distressing garment with a shuddering horror. A +young man with an educated taste in clothes, it got right in among +his nerve centres. + +"But, honestly, old soul, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but +that isn't a suit, it's just a regrettable incident!" + +The proprietor turned to the door in a listening attitude. + +"I believe I hear that feller coming back," he said. + +Archie gulped. + +"How about trying it on?" he said. "I'm not sure, after all, it +isn't fairly ripe." + +"That's the way to talk," said the proprietor, cordially. "You try +it on. You can't judge a suit, not a real nice suit like this, by +looking at it. You want to put it on. There!" He led the way to a +dusty mirror at the back of the shop. "Isn't that a bargain at +seventy dollars? ... Why, say, your mother would be proud if she +could see her boy now!" + +A quarter of an hour later, the proprietor, lovingly kneading a +little sheaf of currency bills, eyed with a fond look the heap of +clothes which lay on the counter. + +"As nice a little lot as I've ever had in my shop!" Archie did not +deny this. It was, he thought, probably only too true. + +"I only wish I could see you walking up Fifth Avenue in them!" +rhapsodised the proprietor. "You'll give 'em a treat! What you going +to do with 'em? Carry 'em under your arm?" Archie shuddered +strongly. "Well, then, I can send 'em for you anywhere you like. +It's all the same to me. Where'll I send 'em?" + +Archie meditated. The future was black enough as it was. He shrank +from the prospect of being confronted next day, at the height of his +misery, with these appalling reach-me-downs. + +An idea struck him. + +"Yes, send 'em," he said. + +"What's the name and address?" + +"Daniel Brewster," said Archie, "Hotel Cosmopolis." + +It was a long time since he had given his father-in-law a present. + +Archie went out into the street, and began to walk pensively down a +now peaceful Ninth Avenue. Out of the depths that covered him, black +as the pit from pole to pole, no single ray of hope came to cheer +him. He could not, like the poet, thank whatever gods there be for +his unconquerable soul, for his soul was licked to a splinter. He +felt alone and friendless in a rotten world. With the best +intentions, he had succeeded only in landing himself squarely +amongst the ribstons. Why had he not been content with his wealth, +instead of risking it on that blighted bet with Reggie? Why had he +trailed the Girl Friend, dash her! He might have known that he would +only make an ass of himself, And, because he had done so, Looney +Biddle's left hand, that priceless left hand before which opposing +batters quailed and wilted, was out of action, resting in a sling, +careened like a damaged battleship; and any chance the Giants might +have had of beating the Pirates was gone--gone--as surely as that +thousand dollars which should have bought a birthday present for +Lucille. + +A birthday present for Lucille! He groaned in bitterness of spirit. +She would be coming back to-night, dear girl, all smiles and +happiness, wondering what he was going to give her tomorrow. And +when to-morrow dawned, all he would be able to give her would be a +kind smile. A nice state of things! A jolly situation! A thoroughly +good egg, he did NOT think! + +It seemed to Archie that Nature, contrary to her usual custom of +indifference to human suffering, was mourning with him. The sky was +overcast, and the sun had ceased to shine. There was a sort of +sombreness in the afternoon, which fitted in with his mood. And then +something splashed on his face. + +It says much for Archie's pre-occupation that his first thought, as, +after a few scattered drops, as though the clouds were submitting +samples for approval, the whole sky suddenly began to stream like a +shower-bath, was that this was simply an additional infliction which +he was called upon to bear, On top of all his other troubles he +would get soaked to the skin or have to hang about in some doorway. +He cursed richly, and sped for shelter. + +The rain was setting about its work in earnest. The world was full +of that rending, swishing sound which accompanies the more violent +summer storms. Thunder crashed, and lightning flicked out of the +grey heavens. Out in the street the raindrops bounded up off the +stones like fairy fountains. Archie surveyed them morosely from his +refuge in the entrance of a shop. + +And then, suddenly, like one of those flashes which were lighting up +the gloomy sky, a thought lit up his mind. + +"By Jove! If this keeps up, there won't be a ball-game to-day!" + +With trembling fingers he pulled out his watch. The hands pointed to +five minutes to three. A blessed vision came to him of a moist and +disappointed crowd receiving rain-checks up at the Polo Grounds. + +"Switch it on, you blighters!" he cried, addressing the leaden +clouds. "Switch it on more and more!" + +It was shortly before five o'clock that a young man bounded into a +jeweller's shop near the Hotel Cosmopolis--a young man who, in spite +of the fact that his coat was torn near the collar and that he oozed +water from every inch of his drenched clothes, appeared in the +highest spirits.. It was only when he spoke that the jeweller +recognised in the human sponge the immaculate youth who had looked +in that morning to order a bracelet. + +"I say, old lad," said this young man, "you remember that jolly +little what-not you showed me before lunch?" + +"The bracelet, sir?" + +"As you observe with a manly candour which does you credit, my dear +old jeweller, the bracelet. Well, produce, exhibit, and bring it +forth, would you mind? Trot it out! Slip it across on a lordly +dish!" + +"You wished me, surely, to put it aside and send it to the +Cosmopolis to-morrow?" + +The young man tapped the jeweller earnestly on his substantial +chest. + +"What I wished and what I wish now are two bally separate and dashed +distinct things, friend of my college days! Never put off till to- +morrow what you can do to-day, and all that! I'm not taking any more +chances. Not for me! For others, yes, but not for Archibald! Here +are the doubloons, produce the jolly bracelet Thanks!" + +The jeweller counted the notes with the same unction which Archie +had observed earlier in the day in the proprietor of the second-hand +clothes-shop. The process made him genial. + +"A nasty, wet day, sir, it's been," he observed, chattily. + +Archie shook his head. + +"Old friend," he said, "you're all wrong. Far otherwise, and not a +bit like it, my dear old trafficker in gems! You've put your finger +on the one aspect of this blighted p.m. that really deserves credit +and respect. Rarely in the experience of a lifetime have I +encountered a day so absolutely bally in nearly every shape and +form, but there was one thing that saved it, and that was its merry +old wetness! Toodle-oo, laddie!" + +"Good evening, sir," said the jeweller. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ARCHIE ACCEPTS A SITUATION + + +Lucille moved her wrist slowly round, the better to examine the new +bracelet. + +"You really are an angel, angel!" she murmured. + +"Like it?" said Archie complacently. + +"LIKE it! Why, it's gorgeous! It must have cost a fortune." + +"Oh, nothing to speak of. Just a few hard-earned pieces of eight. +Just a few doubloons from the old oak chest." + +"But I didn't know there were any doubloons in the old oak chest." + +"Well, as a matter of fact," admitted Archie, "at one point in the +proceedings there weren't. But an aunt of mine in England--peace be +on her head!--happened to send me a chunk of the necessary at what +you might call the psychological moment." + +"And you spent it all on a birthday present for me! Archie!" Lucille +gazed at her husband adoringly. "Archie, do you know what I think?" + +"What?" + +"You're the perfect man!" + +"No, really! What ho!" + +"Yes," said Lucille firmly. "I've long suspected it, and now I know. +I don't think there's anybody like you in the world." + +Archie patted her hand. + +"It's a rummy thing," he observed, "but your father said almost +exactly that to me only yesterday. Only I don't fancy he meant the +same as you. To be absolutely frank, his exact expression was that +he thanked God there was only one of me." + +A troubled look came into Lucille's grey eyes. + +"It's a shame about father. I do wish he appreciated you. But you +mustn't be too hard on him." + +"Me?" said Archie. "Hard on your father? Well, dash it all, I don't +think I treat him with what you might call actual brutality, what! I +mean to say, my whole idea is rather to keep out of the old lad's +way and curl up in a ball if I can't dodge him. I'd just as soon be +hard on a stampeding elephant! I wouldn't for the world say anything +derogatory, as it were, to your jolly old pater, but there is no +getting away from the fact that he's by way of being one of our +leading man-eating fishes. It would be idle to deny that he +considers that you let down the proud old name of Brewster a bit +when you brought me in and laid me on the mat." + +"Anyone would be lucky to get you for a son-in-law, precious." + +"I fear me, light of my life, the dad doesn't see eye to eye with +you on that point. No, every time I get hold of a daisy, I give him +another chance, but it always works out at 'He loves me not!'" + +"You must make allowances for him, darling." + +"Right-o! But I hope devoutly that he doesn't catch me at it. I've a +sort of idea that if the old dad discovered that I was making +allowances for him, he would have from ten to fifteen fits." + +"He's worried just now, you know." + +"I didn't know. He doesn't confide in me much." + +"He's worried about that waiter." + +"What waiter, queen of my soul?" + +"A man called Salvatore. Father dismissed him some time ago." + +"Salvatore!" + +"Probably you don't remember him. He used to wait on this table." + +"Why--" + +"And father dismissed him, apparently, and now there's all sorts of +trouble. You see, father wants to build this new hotel of his, and +he thought he'd got the site and everything and could start building +right away: and now he finds that this man Salvatore's mother owns a +little newspaper and tobacco shop right in the middle of the site, +and there's no way of getting him out without buying the shop, and +he won't sell. At least, he's made his mother promise that she won't +sell." + +"A boy's best friend is his mother," said Archie approvingly. "I had +a sort of idea all along--" + +"So father's in despair." + +Archie drew at his cigarette meditatively. + +"I remember a chappie--a policeman he was, as a matter of fact, and +incidentally a fairly pronounced blighter--remarking to me some time +ago that you could trample on the poor man's face but you mustn't be +surprised if he bit you in the leg while you were doing it. +Apparently this is what has happened to the old dad. I had a sort of +idea all along that old friend Salvatore would come out strong in +the end if you only gave him time. Brainy sort of feller! Great pal +of mine."-Lucille's small face lightened. She gazed at Archie with +proud affection. She felt that she ought to have known that he was +the one to solve this difficulty. + +"You're wonderful, darling! Is he really a friend of yours?" + +"Absolutely. Many's the time he and I have chatted in this very +grill-room." + +"Then it's all right. If you went to him and argued with him, he +would agree to sell the shop, and father would be happy. Think how +grateful father would be to you! It would make all the difference." + +Archie turned this over in his mind. + +"Something in that," he agreed. + +"It would make him see what a pet lambkin you really are!" + +"Well," said Archie, "I'm bound to say that any scheme which what +you might call culminates in your father regarding me as a pet +lambkin ought to receive one's best attention. How much did he offer +Salvatore for his shop?" + +"I don't know. There is father.--Call him over and ask him." + +Archie glanced over to where Mr. Brewster had sunk moodily into a +chair at a neighbouring table. It was plain even at that distance +that Daniel Brewster had his troubles and was bearing them with an +ill grace. He was scowling absently at the table-cloth. + +"YOU call him," said Archie, having inspected his formidable +relative. "You know him better." + +"Let's go over to him." + +They crossed the room. Lucille sat down opposite her father.-Archie +draped himself over a chair in the background. + +"Father, dear," said Lucille. "Archie has got an idea." + +"Archie?" said Mr. Brewster incredulously. + +"This is me," said Archie, indicating himself with a spoon. "The +tall, distinguished-looking bird." + +"What new fool-thing is he up to now?" + +"It's a splendid idea, father. He wants to help you over your new +hotel." + +"Wants to run it for me, I suppose?" + +"By Jove!" said Archie, reflectively. "That's not a bad scheme! I +never thought of running an hotel. I shouldn't mind taking a stab at +it." + +"He has thought of a way of getting rid of Salvatore and his shop." + +For the first time Mr. Brewster's interest in the conversation +seemed to stir. He looked sharply at his son-in-law. + +"He has, has he?" he said. + +Archie balanced a roll on a fork and inserted a plate underneath. +The roll bounded away into a corner. + +"Sorry!" said Archie. "My fault, absolutely! I owe you a roll. I'll +sign a bill for it. Oh, about this sportsman Salvatore, Well, it's +like this, you know. He and I are great pals. I've known him for +years and years. At least, it seems like years and years. Lu was +suggesting that I seek him out in his lair and ensnare him with my +diplomatic manner and superior brain power and what not." + +"It was your idea, precious," said Lucille. + +Mr. Brewster was silent.--Much as it went against the grain to have +to admit it, there seemed to be something in this. + +"What do you propose to do?" + +"Become a jolly old ambassador. How much did you offer the chappie?" + +"Three thousand dollars. Twice as much as the place is worth. He's +holding out on me for revenge." + +"Ah, but how did you offer it to him, what? I mean to say, I bet you +got your lawyer to write him a letter full of whereases, +peradventures, and parties of the first part, and so forth. No good, +old companion!" + +"Don't call me old companion!" + +"All wrong, laddie! Nothing like it, dear heart! No good at all, +friend of my youth! Take it from your Uncle Archibald! I'm a student +of human nature, and I know a thing or two." + +"That's not much," growled Mr. Brewster, who was finding his son-in- +law's superior manner a little trying. + +"Now, don't interrupt, father," said Lucille, severely. "Can't you +see that Archie is going to be tremendously clever in a minute?" + +"He's got to show me!" + +"What you ought to do," said Archie, "is to let me go and see him, +taking the stuff in crackling bills. I'll roll them about on the +table in front of him. That'll fetch him!" He prodded Mr. Brewster +encouragingly with a roll. "I'll tell you what to do. Give me three +thousand of the best and crispest, and I'll undertake to buy that +shop. It can't fail, laddie!" + +"Don't call me laddie!" Mr. Brewster pondered. "Very well," he said +at last. "I didn't know you had so much sense," he added grudgingly. + +"Oh, positively!" said Archie. "Beneath a rugged exterior I hide a +brain like a buzz-saw. Sense? I exude it, laddie; I drip with it." + +There were moments during the ensuing days when Mr. Brewster +permitted himself to hope; but more frequent were the moments when +he told himself that a pronounced chump like his son-in-law could +not fail somehow to make a mess of the negotiations. His relief, +therefore, when Archie curveted into his private room and announced +that he had succeeded was great. + +"You really managed to make that wop sell out?" + +Archie brushed some papers off the desk with a careless gesture, and +seated himself on the vacant spot. + +"Absolutely! I spoke to him as one old friend to another, sprayed +the bills all over the place; and he sang a few bars from +'Rigoletto,' and signed on the dotted line." + +"You're not such a fool as you look," owned Mr. Brewster. + +Archie scratched a match on the desk and lit a cigarette. + +"It's a jolly little shop," he said. "I took quite a fancy to it. +Full of newspapers, don't you know, and cheap novels, and some +weird-looking sort of chocolates, and cigars with the most fearfully +attractive labels. I think I'll make a success of it. It's bang in +the middle of a dashed good neighbourhood. One of these days +somebody will be building a big hotel round about there, and that'll +help trade a lot. I look forward to ending my days on the other side +of the counter with a full set of white whiskers and a skull-cap, +beloved by everybody. Everybody'll say, 'Oh, you MUST patronise that +quaint, delightful old blighter! He's quite a character.'" + +Mr. Brewster's air of grim satisfaction had given way to a look of +discomfort, almost of alarm. He presumed his son-in-law was merely +indulging in badinage; but even so, his words were not soothing. + +"Well, I'm much obliged," he said. "That infernal shop was holding +up everything. Now I can start building right away." + +Archie raised his eyebrows. + +"But, my dear old top, I'm sorry to spoil your daydreams and stop +you chasing rainbows, and all that, but aren't you forgetting that +the shop belongs to me? I don't at all know that I want to sell, +either!" + +"I gave you the money to buy that shop!" + +"And dashed generous of you it was, too!" admitted Archie, +unreservedly. "It was the first money you ever gave me, and I shall +always, tell interviewers that it was you who founded my fortunes. +Some day, when I'm the Newspaper-and-Tobacco-Shop King, I'll tell +the world all about it in my autobiography." + +Mr. Brewster rose dangerously from his seat. + +"Do you think you can hold me up, you--you worm?" + +"Well," said Archie, "the way I look at it is this. Ever since we +met, you've been after me to become one of the world's workers, and +earn a living for myself, and what not; and now I see a way to repay +you for your confidence and encouragement. You'll look me up +sometimes at the good old shop, won't you?" He slid off the table +and moved towards the door. "There won't be any formalities where +you are concerned. You can sign bills for any reasonable amount any +time you want a cigar or a stick of chocolate. Well, toodle-oo!" + +"Stop!" + +"Now what?" + +"How much do you want for that damned shop?" + +"I don't want money.-I want a job.-If you are going to take my life- +work away from me, you ought to give me something else to do." + +"What job?" + +"You suggested it yourself the other day. I want to manage your new +hotel." + +"Don't be a fool! What do you know about managing an hotel?" + +"Nothing. It will be your pleasing task to teach me the business +while the shanty is being run up." + +There was a pause, while Mr. Brewster chewed three inches off a pen- +holder. + +"Very well," he said at last. + +"Topping!" said Archie. "I knew you'd, see it. I'll study your +methods, what! Adding some of my own, of course. You know, I've +thought of one improvement on the Cosmopolis already." + +"Improvement on the Cosmopolis!" cried Mr. Brewster, gashed in his +finest feelings. + +"Yes. There's one point where the old Cosmop slips up badly, and I'm +going to see that it's corrected at my little shack. Customers will +be entreated to leave their boots outside their doors at night, and +they'll find them cleaned in the morning. Well, pip, pip! I must be +popping. Time is money, you know, with us business men." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +BROTHER BILL'S ROMANCE + + +"Her eyes," said Bill Brewster, "are like--like--what's the word I +want?" + +He looked across at Lucille and Archie. Lucille was leaning forward +with an eager and interested face; Archie was leaning back with his +finger-tips together and his eyes closed. This was not the first +time since their meeting in Beale's Auction Rooms that his brother- +in-law had touched on the subject of the girl he had become engaged +to marry during his trip to England. Indeed, Brother Bill had +touched on very little else: and Archie, though of a sympathetic +nature and fond of his young relative, was beginning to feel that he +had heard all he wished to hear about Mabel Winchester. Lucille, on +the other hand, was absorbed. Her brother's recital had thrilled +her. + +"Like--" said Bill. "Like--" + +"Stars?" suggested Lucille. + +"Stars," said Bill gratefully. "Exactly the word. Twin stars shining +in a clear sky on a summer night. Her teeth are like--what shall I +say?" + +"Pearls?" + +"Pearls. And her hair is a lovely brown, like leaves in autumn. In +fact," concluded Bill, slipping down from the heights with something +of a jerk, "she's a corker. Isn't she, Archie?" + +Archie opened his eyes. + +"Quite right, old top!" he said. "It was the only thing to do." + +"What the devil are you talking about?" demanded Bill coldly. He had +been suspicious all along of Archie's statement that he could listen +better with his eyes shut. + +"Eh? Oh, sorry! Thinking of something else." + +"You were asleep." + +"No, no, positively and distinctly not. Frightfully interested and +rapt and all that, only I didn't quite get what you said." + +"I said that Mabel was a corker." + +"Oh, absolutely in every respect." + +"There!" Bill turned to Lucille triumphantly. "You hear that? And +Archie has only seen her photograph. Wait till he sees her in the +flesh." + +"My dear old chap!" said Archie, shocked. "Ladies present! I mean to +say, what!" + +"I'm afraid that father will be the one you'll find it hard to +convince." + +"Yes," admitted her brother gloomily. + +"Your Mabel sounds perfectly charming, but--well, you know what +father is. It IS a pity she sings in the chorus." + +"She-hasn't much of a voice,"-argued Bill-in extenuation. + +"All the same--" + +Archie, the conversation having reached a topic on which he +considered himself one of the greatest living authorities--to wit, +the unlovable disposition of his father-in-law--addressed the +meeting as one who has a right to be heard. + +"Lucille's absolutely right, old thing.--Absolutely correct-o! Your +esteemed progenitor is a pretty tough nut, and it's no good trying +to get away from it.-And I'm sorry to have to say it, old bird, but, +if you come bounding in with part of the personnel of the ensemble +on your arm and try to dig a father's blessing out of him, he's +extremely apt to stab you in the gizzard." + +"I wish," said Bill, annoyed, "you wouldn't talk as though Mabel +were the ordinary kind of chorus-girl. She's only on the stage +because her mother's hard-up and she wants to educate her little +brother." + +"I say," said Archie, concerned. "Take my tip, old top. In chatting +the matter over with the pater, don't dwell too much on that aspect +of the affair.--I've been watching him closely, and it's about all +he can stick, having to support ME. If you ring in a mother and a +little brother on him, he'll crack under the strain." + +"Well, I've got to do something about it. Mabel will be over here in +a week." + +"Great Scot! You never told us that." + +"Yes. She's going to be in the new Billington show. And, naturally, +she will expect to meet my family. I've told her all about you." + +"Did you explain father to her?" asked Lucille. + +"Well, I just said she mustn't mind him, as his bark was worse than +his bite." + +"Well," said Archie, thoughtfully, "he hasn't bitten me yet, so you +may be right. But you've got to admit that he's a bit of a barker." + +Lucille considered. + +"Really, Bill, I think your best plan would be to go straight to +father and tell him the whole thing.--You don't want him to hear +about it in a roundabout way." + +"The trouble is that, whenever I'm with father, I can't think of +anything to say." + +Archie found himself envying his father-in-law this merciful +dispensation of Providence; for, where he himself was concerned, +there had been no lack of eloquence on Bill's part. In the brief +period in which he had known him, Bill had talked all the time and +always on the one topic. As unpromising a subject as the tariff laws +was easily diverted by him into a discussion of the absent Mabel. + +"When I'm with father," said Bill, "I sort of lose my nerve, and +yammer." + +"Dashed awkward," said Archie, politely. He sat up suddenly. "I say! +By Jove! I know what you want, old friend! Just thought of it!" + +"That busy brain is never still," explained Lucille. + +"Saw it in the paper this morning. An advertisement of a book, don't +you know." + +"I've no time for reading." + +"You've time for reading this one, laddie, for you can't afford to +miss it. It's a what-d'you-call-it book. What I mean to say is, if +you read it and take its tips to heart, it guarantees to make you a +convincing talker. The advertisement says so. The advertisement's +all about a chappie I whose name I forget, whom everybody loved +because he talked so well. And, mark you, before he got hold of this +book--The Personality That Wins was the name of it, if I remember +rightly--he was known to all the lads in the office as Silent Samuel +or something. Or it may have been Tongue-Tied Thomas. Well, one day +he happened by good luck to blow in the necessary for the good old +P. that W.'s, and now, whenever they want someone to go and talk +Rockefeller or someone into lending them a million or so, they send +for Samuel. Only now they call him Sammy the Spell-Binder and fawn +upon him pretty copiously and all that. How about it, old son? How +do we go?" + +"What perfect nonsense," said Lucille. + +"I don't know," said Bill, plainly impressed. "There might be +something in it." + +"Absolutely!" said Archie. "I remember it said, 'Talk convincingly, +and no man will ever treat you with cold, unresponsive +indifference.' Well, cold, unresponsive indifference is just what +you don't want the pater to treat you with, isn't it, or is it, or +isn't it, what? I mean, what?" + +"It sounds all right," said Bill. + +"It IS all right," said Archie. "It's a scheme! I'll go farther. +It's an egg!" + +"The idea I had," said Bill, "was to see if I couldn't get Mabel a +job in some straight comedy. That would take the curse off the thing +a bit. Then I wouldn't have to dwell on the chorus end of the +business, you see." + +"Much more sensible," said Lucille. + +"But what a-deuce of a sweat"--argued Archie. "I mean to say, having +to pop round and nose about and all that." + +"Aren't you willing to take a little trouble for your stricken +brother-in-law, worm?" said Lucille severely. + +"Oh, absolutely! My idea was to get this book and coach the dear old +chap. Rehearse him, don't you know. He could bone up the early +chapters a bit and then drift round and try his convincing talk on +me." + +"It might be a good idea," said Bill reflectively. + +"Well, I'll tell you what _I'm_ going to do," said Lucille. "I'm +going to get Bill to introduce me to his Mabel, and, if she's as +nice as he says she is, _I'll_ go to father and talk convincingly to +him." + +"You're an ace!" said Bill. + +"Absolutely!" agreed Archie cordially. "MY partner, what! All the +same, we ought to keep the book as a second string, you know. I mean +to say, you are a young and delicately nurtured girl--full of +sensibility and shrinking what's-its-name and all that--and you know +what the jolly old pater is. He might bark at you and put you out of +action in the first round. Well, then, if anything like that +happened, don't you see, we could unleash old Bill, the trained +silver-tongued expert, and let him have a shot. Personally, I'm all +for the P. that W.'s."-"Me, too," said Bill. + +Lucille looked at her watch. + +"Good gracious! It's nearly one o'clock!" + +"No!" Archie heaved himself up from his chair. "Well, it's a shame +to break up this feast of reason and flow of soul and all that, but, +if we don't leg it with some speed, we shall be late." + +"We're lunching at the Nicholson's!" explained Lucille to her +brother. "I wish you were coming too." + +"Lunch!" Bill shook his head with a kind of tolerant scorn. "Lunch +means nothing to me these days. I've other things to think of +besides food." He looked as spiritual as his rugged features would +permit. "I haven't written to Her yet to-day." + +"But, dash it, old scream, if she's going to be over here in a week, +what's the good of writing? The letter would cross her." + +"I'm not mailing my letters to England." said Bill. "I'm keeping +them for her to read when she arrives." + +"My sainted aunt!" said Archie. + +Devotion like this was something beyond his outlook. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE SAUSAGE CHAPPIE + + +The personality that wins cost Archie two dollars in cash and a lot +of embarrassment when he asked for it at the store. To buy a +treatise of that name would automatically seem to argue that you +haven't a winning personality already, and Archie was at some pains +to explain to the girl behind the counter that he wanted it for a +friend. The girl seemed more interested in his English accent than +in his explanation, and Archie was uncomfortably aware, as he +receded, that she was practising it in an undertone for the benefit +of her colleagues and fellow-workers. However, what is a little +discomfort, if endured in friendship's name? + +He was proceeding up Broadway after leaving the store when he +encountered Reggie van Tuyl, who was drifting along in +somnambulistic fashion near Thirty-Ninth Street. + +"Hullo, Reggie old thing!" said Archie. + +"Hullo!" said Reggie, a man of few words. + +"I've just been buying a book for Bill Brewster," went on Archie. +"It appears that old Bill--What's the matter?" + +He broke off his recital abruptly. A sort of spasm had passed across +his companion's features. The hand holding Archie's arm had +tightened convulsively. One would have said that Reginald had +received a shock. + +"It's nothing," said Reggie. "I'm all right now. I caught sight of +that fellow's clothes rather suddenly. They shook me a bit. I'm all +right now," he said, bravely. + +Archie, following his friend's gaze, understood. Reggie van Tuyl was +never at his strongest in the morning, and he had a sensitive eye +for clothes. He had been known to resign from clubs because members +exceeded the bounds in the matter of soft shirts with dinner- +jackets. And the short, thick-set man who was standing just in front +of them in attitude of restful immobility was certainly no dandy. +His best friend could not have called him dapper. Take him for all +in all and on the hoof, he might have been posing as a model for a +sketch of What the Well-Dressed Man Should Not Wear. + +In costume, as in most other things, it is best to take a definite +line and stick to it. This man had obviously vacillated. His neck +was swathed in a green scarf; he wore an evening-dress coat; and his +lower limbs were draped in a pair of tweed trousers built for a +larger man. To the north he was bounded by a straw hat, to the south +by brown shoes. + +Archie surveyed the man's back carefully. + +"Bit thick!" he said, sympathetically. "But of course Broadway isn't +Fifth Avenue. What I mean to say is, Bohemian licence and what not. +Broadway's crammed with deuced brainy devils who don't care how they +look. Probably this bird is a master-mind of some species." + +"All the same, man's no right to wear evening-dress coat with tweed +trousers." + +"Absolutely not! I see what you mean." + +At this point the sartorial offender turned. Seen from the front, he +was even more unnerving. He appeared to possess no shirt, though +this defect was offset by the fact that the tweed trousers fitted +snugly under the arms. He was not a handsome man. At his best he +could never have been that, and in the recent past he had managed to +acquire a scar that ran from the corner of his mouth half-way across +his cheek. Even when his face was in repose he had an odd +expression; and when, as he chanced to do now, he smiled, odd became +a mild adjective, quite inadequate for purposes of description. It +was not an unpleasant face, however. Unquestionably genial, indeed. +There was something in it that had a quality of humorous appeal. + +Archie started. He stared at the man, Memory stirred. + +"Great Scot!" he cried. "It's the Sausage Chappie!" + +Reginald van Tuyl gave a little moan. He was not used to this sort +of thing. A sensitive young man as regarded scenes, Archie's +behaviour unmanned him. For Archie, releasing his arm, had bounded +forward and was shaking the other's hand warmly. + +"Well, well, well! My dear old chap! You must remember me, what? No? +Yes?" + +The man with the scar seemed puzzled. He shuffled the brown shoes, +patted the straw hat, and eyed Archie questioningly. + +"I don't seem to place you," he said. + +Archie slapped the back of the evening-dress coat. He linked his arm +affectionately with that of the dress-reformer. + +"We met outside St Mihiel in the war. You gave me a bit of sausage. +One of the most sporting events in history. Nobody but a real +sportsman would have parted with a bit of sausage at that moment to +a stranger. Never forgotten it, by Jove. Saved my life, absolutely. +Hadn't chewed a morse for eight hours. Well, have you got anything +on? I mean to say, you aren't booked for lunch or any rot of that +species, are you? Fine! Then I move we all toddle off and get a bite +somewhere." He squeezed the other's arm fondly. "Fancy meeting you +again like this! I've often wondered what became of you. But, by +Jove, I was forgetting. Dashed rude of me. My friend, Mr. van Tuyl." + +Reggie gulped. The longer he looked at it, the harder this man's +costume was to bear. His eye passed shudderingly from the brown +shoes to the tweed trousers, to the green scarf, from the green +scarf to the straw hat. + +"Sorry," he mumbled. "Just remembered. Important date. Late already. +Er--see you some time--" + +He melted away, a broken man. Archie was not sorry to see him go. +Reggie was a good chap, but he would undoubtedly have been de trop +at this reunion. + +"I vote we go to the Cosmopolis," he said, steering his newly-found +friend through the crowd. "The browsing and sluicing isn't bad +there, and I can sign the bill which is no small consideration +nowadays." + +The Sausage Chappie chuckled amusedly. + +"I can't go to a place like the Cosmopolis looking like this." + +Archie, was a little embarrassed. + +"Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know!" he said. "Still, since +you have brought the topic up, you DID get the good old wardrobe a +bit mixed this morning what? I mean to say, you seem absent- +mindedly, as it were, to have got hold of samples from a good number +of your various suitings." + +"Suitings? How do you mean, suitings? I haven't any suitings! Who do +you think I am? Vincent Astor? All I have is what I stand up in." + +Archie was shocked. This tragedy touched him. He himself had never +had any money in his life, but somehow he had always seemed to +manage to have plenty of clothes. How this was he could not say. He +had always had a vague sort of idea that tailors were kindly birds +who never failed to have a pair of trousers or something up their +sleeve to present to the deserving. There was the drawback, of +course, that once they had given you things they were apt to write +you rather a lot of letters about it; but you soon managed to +recognise their handwriting, and then it was a simple task to +extract their communications from your morning mail and drop them in +the waste-paper basket. This was the first case he had encountered +of a man who was really short of clothes. + +"My dear old lad," he said, briskly, "this must be remedied! Oh, +positively! This must be remedied at once! I suppose my things +wouldn't fit you? No. Well, I tell you what. We'll wangle something +from my father-in-law. Old Brewster, you know, the fellow who runs +the Cosmopolis. His'll fit you like the paper on the wall, because +he's a tubby little blighter, too. What I mean to say is, he's also +one of those sturdy, square, fine-looking chappies of about the +middle height. By the way, where are you stopping these days?" + +"Nowhere just at present. I thought of taking one of those self- +contained Park benches." + +"Are you broke?" + +"Am I!" + +Archie was concerned. + +"You ought to get a job." + +"I ought. But somehow I don't seem able to." + +"What did you do before the war?" + +"I've forgotten." + +"Forgotten!" + +"Forgotten." + +"How do you mean--forgotten? You can't mean--FORGOTTEN?" + +"Yes. It's quite gone." + +"But I mean to say. You can't have forgotten a thing like that." + +"Can't I! I've forgotten all sorts of things. Where I was born. How +old I am. Whether I'm married or single. What my name is--" + +"Well, I'm dashed!" said Archie, staggered. "But you remembered +about giving me a bit of sausage outside St. Mihiel?" + +"No, I didn't. I'm taking your word for it. For all I know you may +be luring me into some den to rob me of my straw hat. I don't know +you from Adam. But I like your conversation--especially the part +about eating--and I'm taking a chance." + +Archie was concerned. + +"Listen, old bean. Make an effort. You must remember that sausage +episode? It was just outside St. Mihiel, about five in the evening. +Your little lot were lying next to my little lot, and we happened to +meet, and I said 'What ho!' and you said 'Halloa!' and I said 'What +ho! What ho!' and you said 'Have a bit of sausage?' and I said 'What +ho! What ho! What HO!'" + +"The dialogue seems to have been darned sparkling but I don't +remember it. It must have been after that that I stopped one. I +don't seem quite to have caught up with myself since I got hit." + +"Oh! That's how you got that scar?" + +"No. I got that jumping through a plate-glass window in London on +Armistice night." + +"What on earth did you do that for?" + +"Oh, I don't know. It seemed a good idea at the time." + +"But if you can remember a thing like that, why can't you remember +your name?" + +"I remember everything that happened after I came out of hospital. +It's the part before that's gone." + +Archie patted him on the shoulder. + +"I know just what you want. You need a bit of quiet and repose, to +think things over and so forth. You mustn't go sleeping on Park +benches. Won't do at all. Not a bit like it. You must shift to the +Cosmopolis. It isn't half a bad spot, the old Cosmop. I didn't like +it much the first night I was there, because there was a dashed tap +that went drip-drip-drip all night and kept me awake, but the place +has its points." + +"Is the Cosmopolis giving free board and lodging these days?" + +"Rather! That'll be all right. Well, this is the spot. We'll start +by trickling up to the old boy's suite and looking over his reach- +me-downs. I know the waiter on his floor. A very sound chappie. +He'll let us in with his pass-key." + +And so it came about that Mr. Daniel Brewster, returning to his +suite in the middle of lunch in order to find a paper dealing with +the subject he was discussing with his guest, the architect of his +new hotel, was aware of a murmur of voices behind the closed door of +his bedroom. Recognising the accents of his son-in-law, he breathed +an oath and charged in. He objected to Archie wandering at large +about his suite. + +The sight that met his eyes when he opened the door did nothing to +soothe him. The floor was a sea of clothes. There were coats on the +chairs, trousers on the bed, shirts on the bookshelf. And in the +middle of his welter stood Archie, with a man who, to Mr. Brewster's +heated eye, looked like a tramp comedian out of a burlesque show. + +"Great Godfrey!" ejaculated Mr. Brewster. + +Archie looked up with a friendly smile. + +"Oh, halloa-halloa!" he said, affably, "We were just glancing +through your spare scenery to see if we couldn't find something for +my pal here. This is Mr. Brewster, my father-in-law, old man." + +Archie scanned his relative's twisted features. Something in his +expression seemed not altogether encouraging. He decided that the +negotiations had better be conducted in private. "One moment, old +lad," he said to his new friend. "I just want to have a little talk +with my father-in-law in the other room. Just a little friendly +business chat. You stay here." + +In the other room Mr. Brewster turned on Archie like a wounded lion +of the desert. + +"What the--!" + +Archie secured one of his coat-buttons and began to massage it +affectionately. + +"Ought to have explained!" said Archie, "only didn't want to +interrupt your lunch. The sportsman on the horizon is a dear old pal +of mine--" + +Mr. Brewster wrenched himself free. + +"What the devil do you mean, you worm, by bringing tramps into my +bedroom and messing about with my clothes?" + +"That's just what I'm trying to explain, if you'll only listen. This +bird is a bird I met in France during the war. He gave me a bit of +sausage outside St. Mihiel--" + +"Damn you and him and the sausage!" + +"Absolutely. But listen. He can't remember who he is or where he was +born or what his name is, and he's broke; so, dash it, I must look +after him. You see, he gave me a bit of sausage." + +Mr. Brewster's frenzy gave way to an ominous calm. + +"I'll give him two seconds to clear out of here. If he isn't gone by +then I'll have him thrown out" + +Archie was shocked. + +"You don't mean that?" + +"I do mean that." + +"But where is he to go?" + +"Outside." + +"But you don't understand. This chappie has lost his memory because +he was wounded in the war. Keep that fact firmly fixed in the old +bean. He fought for you. Fought and bled for you. Bled profusely, by +Jove. AND he saved my life!" + +"If I'd got nothing else against him, that would be enough." + +"But you can't sling a chappie out into the cold hard world who bled +in gallons to make the world safe for the Hotel Cosmopolis." + +Mr. Brewster looked ostentatiously at his watch. + +"Two seconds!" he said. + +There was a silence. Archie appeared to be thinking. "Right-o!" he +said at last. "No need to get the wind up. I know where he can go. +It's just occurred to me I'll put him up at my little shop." + +The purple ebbed from Mr. Brewster's face. Such was his emotion that +he had forgotten that infernal shop. He sat down. There was more +silence. + +"Oh, gosh!" said Mr. Brewster. + +"I knew you would be reasonable about it," said Archie, approvingly. +"Now, honestly, as man to man, how do we go?" + +"What do you want me to do?" growled Mr. Brewster. + +"I thought you might put the chappie up for a while, and give him a +chance to look round and nose about a bit" + +"I absolutely refuse to give any more loafers free board and +lodging." + +"Any MORE?" + +"Well, he would be the second, wouldn't he?" + +Archie looked pained. + +"It's true," he said, "that when I first came here I was temporarily +resting, so to speak; but didn't I go right out and grab the +managership of your new hotel? Positively!" + +"I will NOT adopt this tramp." + +"Well, find him a job, then." + +"What sort of a job?" + +"Oh, any old sort" + +"He can be a waiter if he likes." + +"All right; I'll put the matter before him." + +He returned to the bedroom. The Sausage Chappie was gazing fondly +into the mirror with a spotted tie draped round his neck. + +"I say, old top," said Archie, apologetically, "the Emperor of the +Blighters out yonder says you can have a job here as waiter, and he +won't do another dashed thing for you. How about it?" + +"Do waiters eat?" + +"I suppose so. Though, by Jove, come to think of it, I've never seen +one at it." + +"That's good enough for me!" said the Sausage Chappie. "When do I +begin?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +REGGIE COMES TO LIFE + + +The advantage of having plenty of time on one's hands is that one +has leisure to attend to the affairs of all one's circle of friends; +and Archie, assiduously as he watched over the destinies of the +Sausage Chappie, did not neglect the romantic needs of his brother- +in-law Bill. A few days later, Lucille, returning one morning to +their mutual suite, found her husband seated in an upright chair at +the table, an unusually stern expression on his amiable face. A +large cigar was in the corner of his mouth. The fingers of one hand +rested in the armhole of his waistcoat: with the other hand he +tapped menacingly on the table. + +As she gazed upon him, wondering what could be the matter with him, +Lucille was suddenly aware of Bill's presence. He had emerged +sharply from the bedroom and was walking briskly across the floor. +He came to a halt in front of the table. + +"Father!" said Bill. + +Archie looked up sharply, frowning heavily over his cigar. + +"Well, my boy," he said in a strange, rasping voice. "What is it? +Speak up, my boy, speak up! Why the devil can't you speak up? This +is my busy day!" + +"What on earth are you doing?" asked Lucille. + +Archie waved her away with the large gesture of a man of blood and +iron interrupted while concentrating. + +"Leave us, woman! We would be alone! Retire into the jolly old +background and amuse yourself for a bit. Read a book. Do acrostics. +Charge ahead, laddie." + +"Father!" said Bill, again. + +"Yes, my boy, yes? What is it?" + +"Father!" + +Archie picked up the red-covered volume that lay on the table. + +"Half a mo', old son. Sorry to stop you, but I knew there was +something. I've just remembered. Your walk. All wrong!" + +"All wrong?" + +"All wrong! Where's the chapter on the Art. of Walking? Here we are. +Listen, dear old soul. Drink this in. 'In walking, one should strive +to acquire that swinging, easy movement from the hips. The +correctly-poised walker seems to float along, as it were.' Now, old +bean, you didn't float a dam' bit. You just galloped in like a +chappie charging into a railway restaurant for a bowl of soup when +his train leaves in two minutes. Dashed important, this walking +business, you know. Get started wrong, and where are you? Try it +again. . . . Much better." He turned to Lucille. "Notice him float +along that time? Absolutely skimmed, what?" + +Lucille had taken a seat,-and was waiting for enlightenment. + +"Are you and Bill going into vaudeville?" she asked. + +Archie, scrutinising-his-brother-in-law closely, had further +criticism to make. + +"'The man of self-respect and self-confidence,'" he read, "'stands +erect in an easy, natural, graceful attitude. Heels not too far +apart, head erect, eyes to the front with a level gaze'--get your +gaze level, old thing!--'shoulders thrown back, arms hanging +naturally at the sides when not otherwise employed'--that means +that, if he tries to hit you, it's all right to guard--'chest +expanded naturally, and abdomen'--this is no place for you, Lucille. +Leg it out of earshot--'ab--what I said before--drawn in somewhat +and above all not protruded.' Now, have you got all that? Yes, you +look all right. Carry on, laddie, carry on. Let's have two-penn'orth +of the Dynamic Voice and the Tone of Authority--some of the full, +rich, round stuff we hear so much about!" + +Bill fastened a gimlet eye upon his brother-in-law and drew a deep +breath. + +"Father!" he said. "Father!" + +"You'll have to brighten up Bill's dialogue a lot," said Lucille, +critically, "or you will never get bookings." + +"Father!" + +"I mean, it's all right as far as it goes, but it's sort of +monotonous. Besides, one of you ought to be asking questions and the +other answering. Mill ought to be saying, 'Who was that lady I saw +you coming down the street with?' so that you would be able to say, +'That wasn't a lady. That was my wife.' I KNOW! I've been to lots of +vaudeville shows." + +Bill relaxed his attitude. He deflated his chest, spread his heels, +and ceased to draw in his abdomen. + +"We'd better try this another time, when we're alone," he said, +frigidly. "I can't do myself justice." + +"Why do you want to do yourself justice?" asked Lucille. + +"Right-o!" said Archie, affably, casting off his forbidding +expression like a garment. "Rehearsal postponed. I was just putting +old Bill through it," he explained, "with a view to getting him into +mid-season form for the jolly old pater." + +"Oh!" Lucille's voice was the voice of one who sees light in +darkness. "When Bill walked in like a cat on hot bricks and stood +there looking stuffed, that was just the Personality That Wins!" + +"That was it." + +"Well, you couldn't blame me for not recognising it, could you?" + +Archie patted her head paternally. + +"A little less of the caustic critic stuff," he said. "Bill will be +all right on the night. If you hadn't come in then and put him off +his stroke, he'd have shot out some amazing stuff, full of authority +and dynamic accents and what not. I tell you, light of my soul, old +Bill is all right! He's got the winning personality up a tree, ready +whenever he wants to go and get it. Speaking as his backer and +trainer, I think he'll twist your father round his little finger. +Absolutely! It wouldn't surprise me if at the end of five minutes +the good old dad started pumping through hoops and sitting up for +lumps of sugar." + +"It would surprise ME." + +"Ah, that's because you haven't seen old Bill in action. You crabbed +his act before he had begun to spread himself." + +"It isn't that at all. The reason why I think that Bill, however +winning his, personality may be, won't persuade father to let him +marry a girl in the chorus is something that happened last night." + +"Last night?" + +"Well, at three o'clock this morning. It's on the front page of the +early editions of the evening papers. I brought one in for you to +see, only you were so busy. Look! There it is!" + +Archie seized the paper. + +"Oh, Great Scot!" + +"What is it?" asked Bill, irritably. "Don't stand goggling there! +What the devil is it?" + +"Listen to this, old thing!" + + REVELRY BY NIGHT. + SPIRITED BATTLE ROYAL AT HOTEL + COSMOPOLIS. + THE HOTEL DETECTIVE HAD A GOOD HEART + BUT PAULINE PACKED THE PUNCH. + +The logical contender for Jack Dempsey's championship honours has +been discovered; and, in an age where women are stealing men's jobs +all the time, it will not come as a surprise to our readers to learn +that she belongs to the sex that is more deadly than the male. Her +name is Miss Pauline Preston, and her wallop is vouched for under +oath--under many oaths--by Mr. Timothy O'Neill, known to his +intimates as Pie-Face, who holds down the arduous job of detective +at the Hotel Cosmopolis. + +At three o'clock this morning, Mr. O'Neill was advised by the night- +clerk that the occupants of every room within earshot of number 618 +had 'phoned the desk to complain of a disturbance, a noise, a vocal +uproar proceeding from the room mentioned. Thither, therefore, +marched Mr. O'Neill, his face full of cheese-sandwich, (for he had +been indulging in an early breakfast or a late supper) and his heart +of devotion to duty. He found there the Misses Pauline Preston and +"Bobbie" St. Clair, of the personnel of the chorus of the +Frivolities, entertaining a few friends of either sex. A pleasant +time was being had by all, and at the moment of Mr. O'Neill's entry +the entire strength of the company was rendering with considerable +emphasis that touching ballad, "There's a Place For Me In Heaven, +For My Baby-Boy Is There." + +The able and efficient officer at once suggested that there was a +place for them in the street and the patrol-wagon was there; and, +being a man of action as well as words, proceeded to gather up an +armful of assorted guests as a preliminary to a personally-conducted +tour onto the cold night. It was at this point that Miss Preston +stepped into the limelight. Mr. O'Neill contends that she hit him +with a brick, an iron casing, and the Singer Building. Be that as it +may, her efforts were sufficiently able to induce him to retire for +reinforcements, which, arriving, arrested the supper-party +regardless of age or sex. + +At the police-court this morning Miss Preston maintained that she +and her friends were merely having a quiet home-evening and that Mr. +O'Neill was no gentleman. The male guests gave their names +respectively as Woodrow Wilson, David Lloyd-George, and William J. +Bryan. These, however, are believed to be incorrect. But the moral +is, if you want excitement rather than sleep, stay at the Hotel +Cosmopolis. + +Bill may have quaked inwardly as he listened to this epic but +outwardly he was unmoved. + +"Well," he said, "what about it?" + +"What about it!" said Lucille. + +"What about it!" said Archie. "Why, my dear old friend, it simply +means that all the time we've been putting in making your +personality winning has been chucked away. Absolutely a dead loss! +We might just as well have read a manual on how to knit sweaters." + +"I don't see it," maintained Bill, stoutly. + +Lucille turned apologetically to her husband. + +"You mustn't judge me by him, Archie, darling. This sort of thing +doesn't run in the family.-We are supposed to be rather bright on +the whole. But poor Bill was dropped by his nurse when he was a +baby, and fell on his head." + +"I suppose what you're driving at," said the goaded Bill, "is that +what has happened will make father pretty sore against girls who +happen to be in the chorus?" + +"That's absolutely it, old thing, I'm sorry to say. The next person +who mentions the word chorus-girl in the jolly old governor's +presence is going to take his life in his hands. I tell you, as one +man to another, that I'd much rather be back in France hopping over +the top than do it myself." + +"What darned nonsense! Mabel may be in the chorus, but she isn't +like those girls." + +"Poor old Bill!" said Lucille. "I'm awfully sorry, but it's no use +not facing facts. You know perfectly well that the reputation of the +hotel is the thing father cares more about than anything else in the +world, and that this is going to make him furious with all the +chorus-girls in creation. It's no good trying to explain to him that +your Mabel is in the chorus but not of the chorus, so to speak." + +"Deuced well put!" said Archie, approvingly. "You're absolutely +right. A chorus-girl by the river's brim, so to speak, a simple +chorus-girl is to him, as it were, and she is nothing more, if you +know what I mean." + +"So now," said Lucille, "having shown you that the imbecile scheme +which you concocted with my poor well-meaning husband is no good at +all, I will bring you words of cheer. Your own original plan--of +getting your Mabel a part in a comedy--was always the best one. And +you can do it. I wouldn't have broken the bad news so abruptly if I +hadn't had some consolation to give you afterwards. I met Reggie van +Tuyl just now, wandering about as if the cares of world were on his +shoulders, and he told me that he was putting up most of the money +for a new play that's going into rehearsal right away. Reggie's an +old friend of yours. All you have to do is to go to him and ask him +to use his influence to get your Mabel a small part. There's sure to +be a maid or something with only a line or two that won't matter." + +"A ripe scheme!" said Archie. "Very sound and fruity!" + +The cloud did not lift from Bill's corrugated brow. + +"That's all very well," he said. "But you know what a talker Reggie +is. He's an obliging sort of chump, but his tongue's fastened on at +the middle and waggles at both ends. I don't want the whole of New +York to know about my engagement, and have somebody spilling the +news to father, before I'm ready." + +"That's all right," said Lucille. "Archie can speak to him. There's +no need for him to mention your name at all. He can just say there's +a girl he wants to get a part for. You would do it, wouldn't you, +angel-face?" + +"Like a bird, queen of my soul." + +"Then that's splendid. You'd better give Archie that photograph of +Mabel to give to Reggie, Bill." + +"Photograph?" said Bill. "Which photograph? I have twenty-four!" + +Archie found Reggie van Tuyl brooding in a window of his club that +looked over Fifth Avenue. Reggie was a rather melancholy young man +who suffered from elephantiasis of the bank-roll and the other evils +that arise from that complaint. Gentle and sentimental by nature, +his sensibilities had been much wounded by contact with a sordid +world; and the thing that had first endeared Archie to him was the +fact that the latter, though chronically hard-up, had never made any +attempt to borrow money from him. Reggie would have parted with it +on demand, but it had delighted him to find that Archie seemed to +take a pleasure in his society without having any ulterior motives. +He was fond of Archie, and also of Lucille; and their happy marriage +was a constant source of gratification to him. + +For Reggie was a sentimentalist. He would have liked to live in a +world of ideally united couples, himself ideally united to some +charming and affectionate girl. But, as a matter of cold fact, he +was a bachelor, and most of the couples he knew were veterans of +several divorces. In Reggie's circle, therefore, the home-life of +Archie and Lucille shone like a good deed in a naughty world. It +inspired him. In moments of depression it restored his waning faith +in human nature. + +Consequently, when Archie, having greeted him and slipped into a +chair at his side, suddenly produced from his inside pocket the +photograph of an extremely pretty girl and asked him to get her a +small part in the play which he was financing, he was shocked and +disappointed. He was in a more than usually sentimental mood that +afternoon, and had, indeed, at the moment of Archie's arrival, been +dreaming wistfully of soft arms clasped snugly about his collar and +the patter of little feet and all that sort of thing.-He gazed +reproachfully at Archie. + +"Archie!" his voice quivered with emotion. "Is it worth it?, is it +worth it, old man?-Think of the poor little woman at home!" + +Archie was puzzled. + +"Eh, old top? Which poor little woman?" + +"Think of her trust in you, her faith--". + +"I don't absolutely get you, old bean." + +"What would Lucille say if she knew about this?" + +"Oh, she does. She knows all about it." + +"Good heavens!" cried Reggie.-He was shocked to the core of his +being.-One of the articles of his faith was, that the union of +Lucille and Archie was different from those loose partnerships which +were the custom in his world.-He had not been conscious of such a +poignant feeling that the foundations of the universe were cracked +and tottering and that there was no light and sweetness in life +since the morning, eighteen months back, when a negligent valet had +sent him out into Fifth Avenue with only one spat on. + +"It was Lucille's idea," explained Archie. He was about to mention +his brother-in-law's connection with the matter, but checked himself +in time, remembering Bill's specific objection to having his secret +revealed to Reggie. "It's like this, old thing, I've never met this +female, but she's a pal of Lucille's"-he comforted his conscience by +the reflection that, if she wasn't now, she would be in a few days- +"and Lucille wants to do her a bit of good. She's been on the stage +in England, you know, supporting a jolly old widowed mother and +educating a little brother and all that kind and species of rot, you +understand, and now she's coming over to America, and Lucille wants +you to rally round and shove her into your show and generally keep +the home fires burning and so forth. How do we go?" + +Reggie beamed with relief. He felt just as he had felt on that other +occasion at the moment when a taxi-cab had rolled up and enabled him +to hide his spatless leg from the public gaze. + +"Oh, I see!" he said. "Why, delighted, old man, quite delighted!" + +"Any small part would do. Isn't there a maid or something in your +bob's-worth of refined entertainment who drifts about saying, 'Yes, +madam,' and all that sort of thing? Well, then that's just the +thing. Topping! I knew I could rely on you, old bird. I'll get +Lucille to ship her round to your address when she arrives. I fancy +she's due to totter in somewhere in the next few days. Well, I must +be popping. Toodle-oo!" + +"Pip-pip!" said Reggie. + + It was about a week later that Lucille came into the suite at the +Hotel Cosmopolis that was her home, and found Archie lying on the +couch, smoking a refreshing pipe after the labours of the day. It +seemed to Archie that his wife was not in her usual cheerful frame +of mind. He kissed her, and, having relieved her of her parasol, +endeavoured without success to balance it on his chin. Having picked +it up from the floor and placed it on the table, he became aware +that Lucille was looking at him in a despondent sort of way. Her +grey eyes were clouded. + +"Halloa, old thing," said Archie. "What's up?" + +Lucille sighed wearily. + +"Archie, darling, do you know any really good swear-words?" + +"Well," said Archie, reflectively, "let me see. I did pick up a few +tolerably ripe and breezy expressions out in France. All through my +military career there was something about me--some subtle magnetism, +don't you know, and that sort of thing--that seemed to make colonels +and blighters of that order rather inventive. I sort of inspired +them, don't you know. I remember one brass-hat addressing me for +quite ten minutes, saying something new all the time. And even then +he seemed to think he had only touched the fringe of the subject. As +a matter of fact, he said straight out in the most frank and +confiding way that mere words couldn't do justice to me. But why?" + +"Because I want to relieve my feelings." + +"Anything wrong?" + +"Everything's wrong. I've just been having tea with Bill and his +Mabel." + +"Oh, ah!" said Archie, interested. "And what's the verdict?" + +"Guilty!" said Lucille. "And the sentence, if I had anything to do +with it, would be transportation for life." She peeled off her +gloves irritably. "What fools men are! Not you, precious! You're the +only man in the world that isn't, it seems to me. You did marry a +nice girl, didn't you? YOU didn't go running round after females +with crimson hair, goggling at them with your eyes popping out of +your head like a bulldog waiting for a bone." + +"Oh, I say! Does old Bill look like that?" + +"Worse!" + +Archie rose to a point of order. + +"But one moment, old lady. You speak of crimson hair. Surely old +Bill--in the extremely jolly monologues he used to deliver whenever +I didn't see him coming and he got me alone--used to allude to her +hair as brown." + +"It isn't brown now. It's bright scarlet. Good gracious, I ought to +know. I've been looking at it all the afternoon. It dazzled me. If +I've got to meet her again, I mean to go to the oculist's and get a +pair of those smoked glasses you wear at Palm Beach." Lucille +brooded silently for a while over the tragedy. "I don't want to say +anything against her, of course." + +"No, no, of course not." + +"But of all the awful, second-rate girls I ever met, she's the +worst! She has vermilion hair and an imitation Oxford manner. She's +so horribly refined that it's dreadful to listen to her. She's a +sly, creepy, slinky, made-up, insincere vampire! She's common! She's +awful! She's a cat!" + +"You're quite right not to say anything against her," said Archie, +approvingly. "It begins to look," he went on, "as if the good old +pater was about due for another shock. He has a hard life!" + +"If Bill DARES to introduce that girl to Father, he's taking his +life in his hands." + +"But surely that was the idea--the scheme--the wheeze, wasn't it? Or +do you think there's any chance of his weakening?" + +"Weakening! You should have seen him looking at her! It was like a +small boy flattening his nose against the window of a candy-store." + +"Bit thick!" + +Lucille kicked the leg of the table. + +"And to think," she said, "that, when I was a little girl, I used to +look up to Bill as a monument of wisdom. I used to hug his knees and +gaze into his face and wonder how anyone could be so magnificent." +She gave the unoffending table another kick. "If I could have looked +into the future," she said, with feeling, "I'd have bitten him in +the ankle!" + + In the days which followed, Archie found himself a little out of +touch with Bill and his romance. Lucille referred to the matter only +when he brought the subject up, and made it plain that the topic of +her future sister-in-law was not one which she enjoyed discussing. +Mr. Brewster, senior, when Archie, by way of delicately preparing +his mind for what was about to befall, asked him if he liked red +hair, called him a fool, and told him to go away and bother someone +else when they were busy. The only person who could have kept him +thoroughly abreast of the trend of affairs was Bill himself; and +experience had made Archie wary in the matter of meeting Bill. The +position of confidant to a young man in the early stages of love is +no sinecure, and it made Archie sleepy even to think of having to +talk to his brother-in-law. He sedulously avoided his love-lorn +relative, and it was with a sinking feeling one day that, looking +over his shoulder as he sat in the Cosmopolis grill-room preparatory +to ordering lunch, he perceived Bill bearing down upon him, +obviously resolved upon joining his meal. + +To his surprise, however, Bill did not instantly embark upon his +usual monologue. Indeed, he hardly spoke at all. He champed a chop, +and seemed to Archie to avoid his eye. It was not till lunch was +over and they were smoking that he unburdened himself. + +"Archie!" he said. + +"Hallo, old thing!" said Archie. "Still there? I thought you'd died +or something. Talk about our old pals, Tongue-tied Thomas and Silent +Sammy! You could beat 'em both on the same evening." + +"It's enough to make me silent." + +"What is?" + +Bill had relapsed into a sort of waking dream. He sat frowning +sombrely, lost to the world. Archie, having waited what seemed to +him a sufficient length of time for an answer to his question, bent +forward and touched his brother-in-law's hand gently with the +lighted end of his cigar. Bill came to himself with a howl. + +"What is?" said Archie. + +"What is what?" said Bill. + +"Now listen, old thing," protested Archie. "Life is short and time +is flying. Suppose we cut out the cross-talk. You hinted there was +something on your mind--something worrying the old bean--and I'm +waiting to hear what it is." + +Bill fiddled a moment with his coffee-spoon. + +"I'm in an awful hole," he said at last. + +"What's the trouble?" + +"It's about that darned girl!" + +Archie blinked. + +"What!" + +"That darned girl!" + +Archie could scarcely credit his senses. He had been prepared-- +indeed, he had steeled himself--to hear Bill allude to his affinity +in a number of ways. But "that darned girl" was not one of them. + +"Companion of my riper years," he said, "let's get this thing +straight. When you say 'that darned girl,' do you by any possibility +allude to--?" + +"Of course I do!" + +"But, William, old bird--" + +"Oh, I know, I know, I know!" said Bill, irritably. "You're +surprised to hear me talk like that about her?" + +"A trifle, yes. Possibly a trifle. When last heard from, laddie, you +must recollect, you were speaking of the lady as your soul-mate, and +at least once--if I remember rightly--you alluded to her as your +little dusky-haired lamb." + +A sharp howl escaped Bill. + +"Don't!" A strong shudder convulsed his frame. "Don't remind me of +it!" + +"There's been a species of slump, then, in dusky-haired lambs?" + +"How," demanded Bill, savagely, "can-a girl be a dusky-haired lamb +when her hair's bright scarlet?" + +"Dashed difficult!" admitted Archie. + +"I suppose Lucille told you about that?" + +"She did touch on it. Lightly, as it were. With a sort of gossamer +touch, so to speak." + +Bill threw off the last fragments of reserve. + +"Archie, I'm in the devil of a fix. I don't know why it was, but +directly I saw her--things seemed so different over in England--I +mean." He swallowed ice-water in gulps. "I suppose it was seeing her +with Lucille. Old Lu is such a thoroughbred. Seemed to kind of show +her up. Like seeing imitation pearls by the side of real pearls. And +that crimson hair! It sort of put the lid on it." Bill brooded +morosely. "It ought to be a criminal offence for women to dye their +hair. Especially red. What the devil do women do that sort of thing +for?" + +"Don't blame me, old thing. It's not my fault." + +Bill looked furtive and harassed. + +"It makes me feel such a cad. Here am I, feeling that I would give +all I've got in the world to get out of the darned thing, and all +the time the poor girl seems to be getting fonder of me than ever." + +"How do you know?" Archie surveyed his brother-in-law critically. +"Perhaps her feelings have changed too. Very possibly she may not +like the colour of YOUR hair. I don't myself. Now if you were to dye +yourself crimson--" + +"Oh, shut up! Of course a man knows when a girl's fond of him." + +"By no means, laddie. When you're my age--" + +"I AM your age." + +"So you are! I forgot that. Well, now, approaching the matter from +another angle, let us suppose, old son, that Miss What's-Her-Name-- +the party of the second part--" + +"Stop it!" said Bill suddenly. "Here comes Reggie!" + +"Eh?" + +"Here comes Reggie van Tuyl. I don't want him to hear us talking +about the darned thing." + +Archie looked over his shoulder and perceived that it was indeed so. +Reggie was threading his way among the tables. + +"Well, HE looks pleased with things, anyway," said Bill, enviously. +"Glad somebody's happy." + +He was right. Reggie van Tuyl's usual mode of progress through a +restaurant was a somnolent slouch. Now he was positively bounding +along. Furthermore, the usual expression on Reggie's face was a +sleepy sadness. Now he smiled brightly and with animation. He +curveted towards their table, beaming and erect, his head up, his +gaze level, and his chest expanded, for all the world as if he had +been reading the hints in "The Personality That Wins." + +Archie was puzzled. Something had plainly happened to Reggie. But +what? It was idle to suppose that somebody had left him money, for +he had been left practically all the money there was a matter of ten +years before. + +"Hallo, old bean," he said, as the new-comer, radiating good will +and bonhomie, arrived at the table and hung over it like a noon-day +sun. "We've finished. But rally round and we'll watch you eat. +Dashed interesting, watching old Reggie eat. Why go to the Zoo?" + +Reggie shook his head. + +"Sorry, old man. Can't. Just on my way to the Ritz. Stepped in +because I thought you might be here. I wanted you to be the first to +hear the news." + +"News?" + +"I'm the happiest man alive!" + +"You look it, darn you!" growled Bill, on whose mood of grey gloom +this human sunbeam was jarring heavily. + +"I'm engaged to be married!" + +"Congratulations, old egg!" Archie shook his hand cordially. "Dash +it, don't you know, as an old married man I like to see you young +fellows settling down." + +"I don't know how to thank you enough, Archie, old man," said +Reggie, fervently. + +"Thank me?" + +"It was through you that I met her. Don't you remember the girl you +sent to me? You wanted me to get her a small part--" + +He stopped, puzzled. Archie had uttered a sound that was half gasp +and half gurgle, but it was swallowed up in the extraordinary noise +from the other side of the table. Bill Brewster was leaning forward +with bulging eyes and soaring eyebrows. + +"Are you engaged to Mabel Winchester?" + +"Why, by George!" said Reggie. "Do you know her?" + +Archie recovered himself. + +"Slightly," he said. "Slightly. Old Bill knows her slightly, as it +were. Not very well, don't you know, but--how shall I put it?" + +"Slightly," suggested Bill. + +"Just the word. Slightly." + +"Splendid!" said Reggie van Tuyl. "Why don't you come along to the +Ritz and meet her now?" + +Bill stammered. Archie came to the rescue again. + +"Bill can't come now. He's got a date." + +"A date?" said Bill. + +"A date," said Archie. "An appointment, don't you know. A--a--in +fact, a date." + +"But--er--wish her happiness from me," said Bill, cordially. + +"Thanks very much, old man," said Reggie. + +"And say I'm delighted, will you?" + +"Certainly." + +"You won't forget the word, will you? Delighted." + +"Delighted." + +"That's right. Delighted." + +Reggie looked at his watch. + +"Halloa! I must rush!" + +Bill and Archie watched him as he bounded out of the restaurant. + +"Poor old Reggie!" said Bill, with a fleeting compunction. + +"Not necessarily," said Archie. "What I mean to say is, tastes +differ, don't you know. One man's peach is another man's poison, and +vice versa." + +"There's something in that." + +"Absolutely! Well," said Archie, judicially, "this would appear to +be, as it were, the maddest, merriest day in all the glad New Year, +yes, no?" + +Bill drew a deep breath. + +"You bet your sorrowful existence it is!" he said. "I'd like to do +something to celebrate it." + +"The right spirit!" said Archie. "Absolutely the right spirit! Begin +by paying for my lunch!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE-SAUSAGE-CHAPPIE-CLICKS + + +Rendered restless by relief, Bill Brewster did not linger long at +the luncheon-table. Shortly after Reggie van Tuyl had retired, he +got up and announced his intention of going for a bit of a walk to +calm his excited mind. Archie dismissed him with a courteous wave of +the hand; and, beckoning to the Sausage Chappie, who in his role of +waiter was hovering near, requested him to bring the best cigar the +hotel could supply. The padded seat in which he sat was comfortable; +he had no engagements; and it seemed to him that a pleasant half- +hour could be passed in smoking dreamily and watching his fellow-men +eat. + +The grill-room had filled up. The Sausage Chappie, having brought +Archie his cigar, was attending to a table close by, at which a +woman with a small boy in a sailor suit had seated themselves. The +woman was engrossed with the bill of fare, but the child's attention +seemed riveted upon the Sausage Chappie. He was drinking him in with +wide eyes. He seemed to be brooding on him. + +Archie, too, was brooding on the Sausage Chappie, The latter made an +excellent waiter: he was brisk and attentive, and did the work as if +he liked it; but Archie was not satisfied. Something seemed to tell +him that the man was fitted for higher things. Archie was a grateful +soul. That sausage, coming at the end of a five-hour hike, had made +a deep impression on his plastic nature. Reason told him that only +an exceptional man could have parted with half a sausage at such a +moment; and he could not feel that a job as waiter at a New York +hotel was an adequate job for an exceptional man. Of course, the +root of the trouble lay in the fact that the fellow could not +remember what his real life-work had been before the war. It was +exasperating to reflect, as the other moved away to take his order +to the kitchen, that there, for all one knew, went the dickens of a +lawyer or doctor or architect or what not. + +His meditations were broken by the voice of the child. + +"Mummie," asked the child interestedly, following the Sausage +Chappie with his eyes as the latter disappeared towards the kitchen, +"why has that man got such a funny face?" + +"Hush, darling." + +"Yes, but why HAS he?" + +"I don't know, darling." + +The child's faith in the maternal omniscience seemed to have +received a shock. He had the air of a seeker after truth who has +been baffled. His eyes roamed the room discontentedly. + +"He's got a funnier face than that man there," he said, pointing to +Archie. + +"Hush, darling!" + +"But he has. Much funnier." + +In a way it was a sort of compliment, but Archie felt embarrassed. +He withdrew coyly into the cushioned recess. Presently the Sausage +Chappie returned, attended to the needs of the woman and the child, +and came over to Archie. His homely face was beaming. + +"Say, I had a big night last night," he said, leaning on the table. + +"Yes?" said Archie. "Party or something?" + +"No, I mean I suddenly began to remember things. Something seems to +have happened to the works." + +Archie sat up excitedly. This was great news. + +"No, really? My dear old lad, this is absolutely topping. This is +priceless." + +"Yessir! First thing I remembered was that I was born at +Springfield, Ohio. It was like a mist starting to life. Springfield, +Ohio. That was it. It suddenly came back to me." + +"Splendid! Anything else?" + +"Yessir! Just before I went to sleep I remembered my name as well." + +Archie was stirred to his depths. + +"Why, the thing's a walk-over!" he exclaimed. "Now you've once got +started, nothing can stop you. What is your name?" + +"Why, it's--That's funny! It's gone again. I have an idea it began +with an S. What was it? Skeffington? Skillington?" + +"Sanderson?" + +"No; I'll get it in a moment. Cunningham? Carrington? Wilberforce? +Debenham?" + +"Dennison?" suggested Archie, helpfully.--"No, no, no. It's on the +tip of my tongue. Barrington? Montgomery? Hepplethwaite? I've got +it! Smith!" + +"By Jove! Really?" + +"Certain of it." + +"What's the first name?" + +An anxious expression came into the man's eyes. He hesitated. He +lowered his voice. + +"I have a horrible feeling that it's Lancelot!" + +"Good God!" said Archie. + +"It couldn't really be that, could it?" + +Archie looked grave. He hated to give pain, but he felt he must be +honest. + +"It might," he said. "People give their children all sorts of rummy +names. My second name's Tracy. And I have a pal in England who was +christened Cuthbert de la Hay Horace. Fortunately everyone calls him +Stinker." + +The head-waiter began to drift up like a bank of fog, and the +Sausage Chappie returned to his professional duties. When he came +back, he was beaming again. + +"Something else I remembered," he said, removing the cover. "I'm +married!" + +"Good Lord!" + +"At least I was before the war. She had blue eyes and brown hair and +a Pekingese dog." + +"What was her name?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well, you're coming on," said Archie. "I'll admit that. You've +still got a bit of a way to go before you become like one of those +blighters who take the Memory Training Courses in the magazine +advertisements--I mean to say, you know, the lads who meet a fellow +once for five minutes, and then come across him again ten years +later and grasp him by the hand and say, 'Surely this is Mr. Watkins +of Seattle?' Still, you're doing fine. You only need patience. +Everything comes to him who waits." Archie sat up, electrified. "I +say, by Jove, that's rather good, what! Everything comes to him who +waits, and you're a waiter, what, what. I mean to say, what!" + +"Mummie," said the child at the other table, still speculative, "do +you think something trod on his face?" + +"Hush, darling." + +"Perhaps it was bitten by something?" + +"Eat your nice fish, darling," said the mother, who seemed to be one +of those dull-witted persons whom it is impossible to interest in a +discussion on first causes. + +Archie felt stimulated. Not even the advent of his father-in-law, +who came in a few moments later and sat down at the other end of the +room, could depress his spirits. + +The Sausage Chappie came to his table again. + +"It's a funny thing," he said. "Like waking up after you've been +asleep. Everything seems to be getting clearer. The dog's name was +Marie. My wife's dog, you know. And she had a mole on her chin." + +"The dog?" + +"No. My wife. Little beast! She bit me in the leg once." + +"Your wife?" + +"No. The dog. Good Lord!" said the Sausage Chappie. + +Archie looked up and followed his gaze. + +A couple of tables away, next to a sideboard on which the management +exposed for view the cold meats and puddings and pies mentioned in +volume two of the bill of fare ("Buffet Froid"), a man and a girl +had just seated themselves. The man was stout and middle-aged. He +bulged in practically every place in which a man can bulge, and his +head was almost entirely free from hair. The girl was young and +pretty. Her eyes were blue. Her hair was brown. She had a rather +attractive little mole on the left side of her chin. + +"Good Lord!" said the Sausage Chappie. + +"Now what?" said Archie. + +"Who's that? Over at the table there?" + +Archie, through long attendance at the Cosmopolis Grill, knew most +of the habitues by sight. + +"That's a man named Gossett. James J. Gossett. He's a motion-picture +man. You must have seen his name around." + +"I don't mean him. Who's the girl?" + +"I've never seen her before." + +"It's my wife!" said the Sausage Chappie. + +"Your wife!" + +"Yes!" + +"Are you sure?" + +"Of course I'm sure!" + +"Well, well, well!" said Archie. "Many happy returns of the day!" + +At the other table, the girl, unconscious of the drama which was +about to enter her life, was engrossed in conversation with the +stout man. And at this moment the stout man leaned forward and +patted her on the cheek. + +It was a paternal pat, the pat which a genial uncle might bestow on +a favourite niece, but it did not strike the Sausage Chappie in that +light. He had been advancing on the table at a fairly rapid pace, +and now, stirred to his depths, he bounded forward with a hoarse +cry. + +Archie was at some pains to explain to his father-in-law later that, +if the management left cold pies and things about all over the +place, this sort of thing was bound to happen sooner or later. He +urged that it was putting temptation in people's way, and that Mr. +Brewster had only himself to blame. Whatever the rights of the case, +the Buffet Froid undoubtedly came in remarkably handy at this crisis +in the Sausage Chappie's life. He had almost reached the sideboard +when the stout man patted the girl's cheek, and to seize a +huckleberry pie was with him the work of a moment. The next instant +the pie had whizzed past the other's head and burst like a shell +against the wall. + +There are, no doubt, restaurants where this sort of thing would have +excited little comment, but the Cosmopolis was not one of them. +Everybody had something to say, but the only one among those present +who had anything sensible to say was the child in the sailor suit. + +"Do it again!" said the child, cordially. + +The Sausage Chappie did it again. He took up a fruit salad, poised +it for a moment, then decanted it over Mr. Gossett's bald head. The +child's happy laughter rang over the restaurant. Whatever anybody +else might think of the affair, this child liked it and was prepared +to go on record to that effect. + +Epic events have a stunning quality. They paralyse the faculties. +For a moment there was a pause. The world stood still. Mr. Brewster +bubbled inarticulately. Mr. Gossett dried himself sketchily with a +napkin. The Sausage Chappie snorted. + +The girl had risen to her feet and was staring wildly. + +"John!" she cried. + +Even at this moment of crisis the Sausage Chappie was able to look +relieved. + +"So it is!" he said. "And I thought it was Lancelot!" + +"I thought you were dead!" + +"I'm not!" said the Sausage Chappie. + +Mr. Gossett, speaking thickly through the fruit-salad, was +understood to say that he regretted this. And then confusion broke +loose again. Everybody began to talk at once. + +"I say!" said Archie. "I say! One moment!" + +Of the first stages of this interesting episode Archie had been a +paralysed spectator. The thing had numbed him. And then-- + + Sudden a thought came, like a full-blown rose. + Flushing his brow. + +When he reached the gesticulating group, he was calm and business- +like. He had a constructive policy to suggest. + +"I say," he said. "I've got an idea!" + +"Go away!" said Mr. Brewster. "This is bad enough without you +butting in." + +Archie quelled him with a gesture. + +"Leave us," he said. "We would be alone. I want to have a little +business-talk with Mr. Gossett." He turned to the movie-magnate, who +was gradually emerging from the fruit-salad rather after the manner +of a stout Venus rising from the sea. "Can you spare me a moment of +your valuable time?" + +"I'll have him arrested!" + +"Don't you do it, laddie. Listen!" + +"The man's mad. Throwing pies!" + +Archie attached himself to his coat-button. + +"Be calm, laddie. Calm and reasonable!" + +For the first time Mr. Gossett seemed to become aware that what he +had been looking on as a vague annoyance was really an individual. + +"Who the devil are you?" + +Archie drew himself up with dignity. + +"I am this gentleman's representative," he replied, indicating the +Sausage Chappie with a motion of the hand. "His jolly old personal +representative. I act for him. And on his behalf I have a pretty +ripe proposition to lay before you. Reflect, dear old bean," he +proceeded earnestly. "Are you going to let this chance slip? The +opportunity of a lifetime which will not occur again. By Jove, you +ought to rise up and embrace this bird. You ought to clasp the +chappie to your bosom! He has thrown pies at you, hasn't he? Very +well. You are a movie-magnate. Your whole fortune is founded on +chappies who throw pies. You probably scour the world for chappies +who throw pies. Yet, when one comes right to you without any fuss or +trouble and demonstrates before your very eyes the fact that he is +without a peer as a pie-propeller, you get the wind up and talk +about having him arrested. Consider! (There's a bit of cherry just +behind your left ear.) Be sensible. Why let your personal feeling +stand in the way of doing yourself a bit of good? Give this chappie +a job and give it him quick, or we go elsewhere. Did you ever see +Fatty Arbuckle handle pastry with a surer touch? Has Charlie Chaplin +got this fellow's speed and control. Absolutely not. I tell you, old +friend, you're in danger of throwing away a good thing!" + +He paused. The Sausage Chappie beamed. + +"I've aways wanted to go into the movies," he said. "I was an actor +before the war. Just remembered." + +Mr. Brewster attempted to speak. Archie waved him down. + +"How many times have I got to tell you not to butt in?" he said, +severely. + +Mr. Gossett's militant demeanour had become a trifle modified during +Archie's harangue. First and foremost a man of business, Mr. Gossett +was not insensible to the arguments which had been put forward. He +brushed a slice of orange from the back of his neck, and mused +awhile. + +"How do I know this fellow would screen well?" he said, at length. + +"Screen well!" cried Archie. "Of course he'll screen well. Look at +his face. I ask you! The map! I call your attention to it." He +turned apologetically to the Sausage Chappie. "Awfully sorry, old +lad, for dwelling on this, but it's business, you know." He turned +to Mr. Gossett. "Did you ever see a face like that? Of course not. +Why should I, as this gentleman's personal representative, let a +face like that go to waste? There's a fortune in it. By Jove, I'll +give you two minutes to think the thing over, and, if you don't talk +business then, I'll jolly well take my man straight round to Mack +Sennett or someone. We don't have to ask for jobs. We consider +offers." + +There was a silence. And then the clear voice of the child in the +sailor suit made itself heard again. + +"Mummie!" + +"Yes, darling?" + +"Is the man with the funny face going to throw any more pies?" + +"No, darling." + +The child uttered a scream of disappointed fury. + +"I want the funny man to throw some more pies! I want the funny man +to throw some more pies!" + +A look almost of awe came into Mr. Gossett's face. He had heard the +voice of the Public. He had felt the beating of the Public's pulse. + +"Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings," he said, picking a piece +of banana off his right eyebrow, "Out of the mouths of babes and +sucklings. Come round to my office!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE GROWING BOY + + +The lobby of the Cosmopolis Hotel was a favourite stamping-ground of +Mr. Daniel Brewster, its proprietor. He liked to wander about there, +keeping a paternal eye on things, rather in the manner of the Jolly +Innkeeper (hereinafter to be referred to as Mine Host) of the old- +fashioned novel. Customers who, hurrying in to dinner, tripped over +Mr. Brewster, were apt to mistake him for the hotel detective--for +his eye was keen and his aspect a trifle austere--but, nevertheless, +he was being as jolly an innkeeper as he knew how. His presence in +the lobby supplied a personal touch to the Cosmopolis which other +New York hotels lacked, and it undeniably made the girl at the book- +stall extraordinarily civil to her clients, which was all to the +good. + +Most of the time Mr. Brewster stood in one spot and just looked +thoughtful; but now and again he would wander to the marble slab +behind which he kept the desk-clerk and run his eye over the +register, to see who had booked rooms--like a child examining the +stocking on Christmas morning to ascertain what Santa Claus had +brought him. + +As a rule, Mr. Brewster concluded this performance by shoving the +book back across the marble slab and resuming his meditations. But +one night a week or two after the Sausage Chappie's sudden +restoration to the normal, he varied this procedure by starting +rather violently, turning purple, and uttering an exclamation which +was manifestly an exclamation of chagrin. He turned abruptly and +cannoned into Archie, who, in company with Lucille, happened to be +crossing the lobby at the moment on his way to dine in their suite. + +Mr. Brewster apologised gruffly; then, recognising his victim, +seemed to regret having done so. + +"Oh, it's you! Why can't you look where you're going?" he demanded. +He had suffered much from his son-in-law. + +"Frightfully sorry," said Archie, amiably. "Never thought you were +going to fox-trot backwards all over the fairway." + +"You mustn't bully Archie," said Lucille, severely, attaching +herself to her father's back hair and giving it a punitive tug, +"because he's an angel, and I love him, and you must learn to love +him, too." + +"Give you lessons at a reasonable rate," murmured Archie. + +Mr. Brewster regarded his young relative with a lowering eye. + +"What's the matter, father darling?" asked Lucille. "You seem upset" + +"I am upset!" Mr. Brewster snorted. "Some people have got a nerve!" +He glowered forbiddingly at an inoffensive young man in a light +overcoat who had just entered, and the young man, though his +conscience was quite clear and Mr. Brewster an entire stranger to +him, stopped dead, blushed, and went out again--to dine elsewhere. +"Some people have got the nerve of an army mule!" + +"Why, what's happened?" + +"Those darned McCalls have registered here!" + +"No!" + +"Bit beyond me, this," said Archie, insinuating himself into the +conversation. "Deep waters and what not! Who are the McCalls?" + +"Some people father dislikes," said Lucille. "And they've chosen his +hotel to stop at. But, father dear, you mustn't mind. It's really a +compliment. They've come because they know it's the best hotel in +New York." + +"Absolutely!" said Archie. "Good accommodation for man and beast! +All the comforts of home! Look on the bright side, old bean. No good +getting the wind up. Cherrio, old companion!" + +"Don't call me old companion!" + +"Eh, what? Oh, right-o!" + +Lucille steered her husband out of the danger zone, and they entered +the lift. + +"Poor father!" she said, as they went to their suite, "it's a shame. +They must have done it to annoy him. This man McCall has a place +next to some property father bought in Westchester, and he's +bringing a law-suit against father about a bit of land which he +claims belongs to him. He might have had the tact to go to another +hotel. But, after all, I don't suppose it was the poor little +fellow's fault. He does whatever his wife tells him to." + +"We all do that," said Archie the married man. + +Lucille eyed him fondly. + +"Isn't it a shame, precious, that all husbands haven't nice wives +like me?" + +"When I think of you, by Jove," said Archie, fervently, "I want to +babble, absolutely babble!" + +"Oh, I was telling you about the McCalls. Mr. McCall is one of those +little, meek men, and his wife's one of those big, bullying women. +It was she who started all the trouble with father. Father and Mr. +McCall were very fond of each other till she made him begin the +suit. I feel sure she made him come to this hotel just to annoy +father. Still, they've probably taken the most expensive suite in +the place, which is something." + +Archie was at the telephone. His mood was now one of quiet peace. Of +all the happenings which went to make up existence in New York, he +liked best the cosy tete-a-tete dinners with Lucille in their suite, +which, owing to their engagements--for Lucille was a popular girl, +with many friends--occurred all too seldom. + +"Touching now the question of browsing and sluicing," he said. +"I'll be getting them to send along a waiter." + +"Oh, good gracious!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"I've just remembered. I promised faithfully I would go and see Jane +Murchison to-day. And I clean forgot. I must rush." + +"But light of my soul, we are about to eat. Pop around and see her +after dinner." + +"I can't. She's going to a theatre to-night." + +"Give her the jolly old miss-in-baulk, then, for the nonce, and +spring round to-morrow." + +"She's sailing for England to-morrow morning, early. No, I must go +and see her now. What a shame! She's sure to make me stop to dinner, +I tell you what. Order something for me, and, if I'm not back in +half an hour, start." + +"Jane Murchison," said Archie, "is a bally nuisance." + +"Yes. But I've known her since she was eight." + +"If her parents had had any proper feeling," said Archie, "they +would have drowned her long before that." + +He unhooked the receiver, and asked despondently to be connected +with Room Service. He thought bitterly of the exigent Jane, whom he +recollected dimly as a tall female with teeth. He half thought of +going down to the grill-room on the chance of finding a friend +there, but the waiter was on his way to the room. He decided that he +might as well stay where he was. + +The waiter arrived, booked the order, and departed. Archie had just +completed his toilet after a shower-bath when a musical clinking +without announced the advent of the meal. He opened the door. The +waiter was there with a table congested with things under covers, +from which escaped a savoury and appetising odour. In spite of his +depression, Archie's soul perked up a trifle. + +Suddenly he became aware that he was not the only person present who +was deriving enjoyment from the scent of the meal. Standing beside +the waiter and gazing wistfully at the foodstuffs was a long, thin +boy of about sixteen. He was one of those boys who seem all legs and +knuckles. He had pale red hair, sandy eyelashes, and a long neck; +and his eyes, as he removed them from the-table and raised them to +Archie's, had a hungry look. He reminded Archie of a half-grown, +half-starved hound. + +"That smells good!" said the long boy. He inhaled deeply. "Yes, +sir," he continued, as one whose mind is definitely made up, "that +smells good!" + +Before Archie could reply, the telephone bell rang. It was Lucille, +confirming her prophecy that the pest Jane would insist on her +staying to dine. + +"Jane," said Archie, into the telephone, "is a pot of poison. The +waiter is here now, setting out a rich banquet, and I shall have to +eat two of everything by myself." + +He hung up the receiver, and, turning, met the pale eye of the long +boy, who had propped himself up in the doorway. + +"Were you expecting somebody to dinner?" asked the boy. + +"Why, yes, old friend, I was." + +"I wish--" + +"Yes?" + +"Oh, nothing." + +The waiter left. The long boy hitched his back more firmly against +the doorpost, and returned to his original theme. + +"That surely does smell good!" He basked a moment in the aroma. +"Yes, sir! I'll tell the world it does!" + +Archie was not an abnormally rapid thinker, but he began at this +point to get a clearly defined impression that this lad, if invited, +would waive the formalities and consent to join his meal. Indeed, +the idea Archie got was that, if he were not invited pretty soon, he +would invite himself. + +"Yes," he agreed. "It doesn't smell bad, what!" + +"It smells GOOD!" said the boy. "Oh, doesn't it! Wake me up in the +night and ask me if it doesn't!" + +"Poulet en casserole," said Archie. + +"Golly!" said the boy, reverently. + +There was a pause. The situation began to seem to Archie a trifle +difficult. He wanted to start his meal, but it began to appear that +he must either do so under the penetrating gaze of his new friend or +else eject the latter forcibly. The boy showed no signs of ever +wanting to leave the doorway. + +"You've dined, I suppose, what?" said Archie. + +"I never dine." + +"What!" + +"Not really dine, I mean. I only get vegetables and nuts and +things." + +"Dieting?" + +"Mother is." + +"I don't absolutely catch the drift, old bean," said Archie. The boy +sniffed with half-closed eyes as a wave of perfume from the poulet +en casserole floated past him. He seemed to be anxious to intercept +as much of it as possible before it got through the door. + +"Mother's a food-reformer," he vouchsafed. "She lectures on it. She +makes Pop and me live on vegetables and nuts and things." + +Archie was shocked. It was like listening to a tale from the abyss. + +"My dear old chap, you must suffer agonies--absolute shooting +pains!" He had no hesitation now. Common humanity pointed out his +course. "Would you care to join me in a bite now?" + +"Would I!" The boy smiled a wan smile. "Would I! Just stop me on the +street and ask me!" + +"Come on in, then," said Archie, rightly taking this peculiar phrase +for a formal acceptance. "And close the door. The fatted calf is +getting cold." + +Archie was not a man with a wide visiting-list among people with +families, and it was so long since he had seen a growing boy in +action at the table that he had forgotten what sixteen is capable of +doing with a knife and fork, when it really squares its elbows, +takes a deep breath, and gets going. The spectacle which he +witnessed was consequently at first a little unnerving. The long +boy's idea of trifling with a meal appeared to be to swallow it +whole and reach out for more. He ate like a starving Eskimo. Archie, +in the time he had spent in the trenches making the world safe for +the working-man to strike in, had occasionally been quite peckish, +but he sat dazed before this majestic hunger. This was real eating. + +There was little conversation. The growing boy evidently did not +believe in table-talk when he could use his mouth for more practical +purposes. It was not until the final roll had been devoured to its +last crumb that the guest found leisure to address his host. Then he +leaned back with a contented sigh. + +"Mother," said the human python, "says you ought to chew every +mouthful thirty-three times...." + +"Yes, sir! Thirty-three times!" He sighed again, "I haven't ever had +meal like that." + +"All right, was it, what?" + +"Was it! Was it! Call me up on the 'phone and ask me!-Yes, sir!- +Mother's tipped off these darned waiters not to serve-me anything +but vegetables and nuts and things, darn it!" + +"The mater seems to have drastic ideas about the good old feed-bag, +what!" + +"I'll say she has! Pop hates it as much as me, but he's scared to +kick. Mother says vegetables contain all the proteins you want. +Mother says, if you eat meat, your blood-pressure goes all blooey. +Do you think it does?" + +"Mine seems pretty well in the pink." + +"She's great on talking," conceded the boy. "She's out to-night +somewhere, giving a lecture on Rational Eating to some ginks. I'll +have to be slipping up to our suite before she gets back." He rose, +sluggishly. "That isn't a bit of roll under that napkin, is it?" he +asked, anxiously. + +Archie raised the napkin. + +"No. Nothing of that species." + +"Oh, well!" said the boy, resignedly. "Then I believe I'll be going. +Thanks very much for the dinner." + +"Not a bit, old top. Come again if you're ever trickling round in +this direction." + +The long boy removed himself slowly, loath to leave. At the door he +cast an affectionate glance back at the table. + +"Some meal!" he said, devoutly. "Considerable meal!" + +Archie lit a cigarette. He felt like a Boy Scout who has done his +day's Act of Kindness. + +On the following morning it chanced that Archie needed a fresh +supply of tobacco. It was his custom, when this happened, to repair +to a small shop on Sixth Avenue which he had discovered accidentally +in the course of his rambles about the great city. His relations +with Jno. Blake, the proprietor, were friendly and intimate. The +discovery that Mr. Blake was English and had, indeed, until a few +years back maintained an establishment only a dozen doors or so from +Archie's London club, had served as a bond. + +To-day he found Mr. Blake in a depressed mood. The tobacconist was a +hearty, red-faced man, who looked like an English sporting publican +--the kind of man who wears a fawn-coloured top-coat and drives to +the Derby in a dog-cart; and usually there seemed to be nothing on +his mind except the vagaries of the weather, concerning which he was +a great conversationalist. But now moodiness had claimed him for its +own. After a short and melancholy "Good morning," he turned to the +task of measuring out the tobacco in silence. + +Archie's sympathetic nature was perturbed.--"What's the matter, +laddie?" he enquired. "You would seem to be feeling a bit of an +onion this bright morning, what, yes, no? I can see it with the +naked eye." + +Mr. Blake grunted sorrowfully. + +"I've had a knock, Mr. Moffam." + +"Tell me all, friend of my youth." + +Mr. Blake, with a jerk of his thumb, indicated a poster which hung +on the wall behind the counter. Archie had noticed it as he came in, +for it was designed to attract the eye. It was printed in black +letters on a yellow ground, and ran as follows: + + CLOVER-LEAF SOCIAL AND OUTING CLUB + + GRAND CONTEST + + PIE-EATING CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WEST SIDE + + SPIKE O'DOWD + (Champion) + + v. + + BLAKE'S UNKNOWN + + FOR A PURSE OF $50 AND SIDE-BET + +Archie examined this document gravely. It conveyed nothing to him +except--what he had long suspected--that his sporting-looking friend +had sporting blood as well as that kind of exterior. He expressed a +kindly hope that the other's Unknown would bring home the bacon. + +Mr. Blake laughed one of those hollow, mirthless laughs. + +"There ain't any blooming Unknown," he said, bitterly. This man had +plainly suffered. "Yesterday, yes, but not now." + +Archie sighed. + +"In the midst of life--Dead?" he enquired, delicately. + +"As good as," replied the stricken tobacconist. He cast aside his +artificial restraint and became voluble. Archie was one of those +sympathetic souls in whom even strangers readily confided their most +intimate troubles. He was to those in travail of spirit very much +what catnip is to a cat. "It's 'ard, sir, it's blooming 'ard! I'd +got the event all sewed up in a parcel, and now this young feller- +me-lad 'as to give me the knock. This lad of mine--sort of cousin 'e +is; comes from London, like you and me--'as always 'ad, ever since +he landed in this country, a most amazing knack of stowing away +grub. 'E'd been a bit underfed these last two or three years over in +the old country, what with food restrictions and all, and 'e took to +the food over 'ere amazing. I'd 'ave backed 'im against a ruddy +orstridge! Orstridge! I'd 'ave backed 'im against 'arff a dozen +orstridges--take 'em on one after the other in the same ring on the +same evening--and given 'em a handicap, too! 'E was a jewel, that +boy. I've seen him polish off four pounds of steak and mealy +potatoes and then look round kind of wolfish, as much as to ask when +dinner was going to begin! That's the kind of a lad 'e was till this +very morning. 'E would have out-swallowed this 'ere O'Dowd without +turning a hair, as a relish before 'is tea! I'd got a couple of +'undred dollars on 'im, and thought myself lucky to get the odds. +And now--" + +Mr. Blake relapsed into a tortured silence. + +"But what's the matter with the blighter? Why can't he go over the +top? Has he got indigestion?" + +"Indigestion?" Mr. Blaife laughed another of his hollow laughs. "You +couldn't give that boy indigestion if you fed 'im in on safety-razor +blades. Religion's more like what 'e's got." + +"Religion?" + +"Well, you can call it that. Seems last night, instead of goin' and +resting 'is mind at a picture-palace like I told him to, 'e sneaked +off to some sort of a lecture down on Eighth Avenue. 'E said 'e'd +seen a piece about it in the papers, and it was about Rational +Eating, and that kind of attracted 'im. 'E sort of thought 'e might +pick up a few hints, like. 'E didn't know what rational eating was, +but it sounded to 'im as if it must be something to do with food, +and 'e didn't want to miss it. 'E came in here just now," said Mr. +Blake, dully, "and 'e was a changed lad! Scared to death 'e was! +Said the way 'e'd been goin' on in the past, it was a wonder 'e'd +got any stummick left! It was a lady that give the lecture, and this +boy said it was amazing what she told 'em about blood-pressure and +things 'e didn't even know 'e 'ad. She showed 'em pictures, coloured +pictures, of what 'appens inside the injudicious eater's stummick +who doesn't chew his food, and it was like a battlefield! 'E said 'e +would no more think of eatin' a lot of pie than 'e would of shootin' +'imself, and anyhow eating pie would be a quicker death. I reasoned +with 'im, Mr. Moffam, with tears in my eyes. I asked 'im was he +goin' to chuck away fame and wealth just because a woman who didn't +know what she was talking about had shown him a lot of faked +pictures. But there wasn't any doin' anything with him. 'E give me +the knock and 'opped it down the street to buy nuts." Mr. Blake +moaned. "Two 'undred dollars and more gone pop, not to talk of the +fifty dollars 'e would have won and me to get twenty-five of!" + +Archie took his tobacco and walked pensively back to the hotel. He +was fond of Jno. Blake, and grieved for the trouble that had come +upon him. It was odd, he felt, how things seemed to link themselves +up together. The woman who had delivered the fateful lecture to +injudicious eaters could not be other than the mother of his young +guest of last night. An uncomfortable woman! Not content with +starving her own family--Archie stopped in his tracks. A pedestrian, +walking behind him, charged into his back, but Archie paid no +attention. He had had one of those sudden, luminous ideas, which +help a man who does not do much thinking as a rule to restore his +average. He stood there for a moment, almost dizzy at the brilliance +of his thoughts; then hurried on. Napoleon, he mused as he walked, +must have felt rather like this after thinking up a hot one to +spring on the enemy. + +As if Destiny were suiting her plans to his, one of the first +persons he saw as he entered the lobby of the Cosmopolis was the +long boy. He was standing at the bookstall, reading as much of a +morning paper as could be read free under the vigilant eyes of the +presiding girl. Both he and she were observing the unwritten rules +which govern these affairs--to wit, that you may read without +interference as much as can be read without touching the paper. If +you touch the paper, you lose, and have to buy. + +"Well, well, well!" said Archie. "Here we are again, what!" He +prodded the boy amiably in the lower ribs. "You're just the chap I +was looking for. Got anything on for the time being?" + +The boy said he had no engagements. + +"Then I want you to stagger round with me to a chappie I know on +Sixth Avenue. It's only a couple of blocks away. I think I can do +you a bit of good. Put you on to something tolerably ripe, if you +know what I mean. Trickle along, laddie. You don't need a hat." + +They found Mr. Blake brooding over his troubles in an empty shop. + +"Cheer up, old thing!" said Archie. "The relief expedition has +arrived." He directed his companion's gaze to the poster. "Cast your +eye over that. How does that strike you?" + +The long boy scanned the poster. A gleam appeared in his rather dull +eye. + +"Well?" + +"Some people have all the luck!" said the long boy, feelingly. + +"Would you like to compete, what?" + +The boy smiled a sad smile. + +"Would I! Would I! Say!..." + +"I know," interrupted Archie. "Wake you up in the night and ask you! +I knew I could rely on you, old thing." He turned to Mr. Blake. +"Here's the fellow you've been wanting to meet. The finest left-and- +right-hand eater east of the Rockies! He'll fight the good fight for +you." + +Mr. Blake's English training had not been wholly overcome by +residence in New York. He still retained a nice eye for the +distinctions of class. + +"But this is young gentleman's a young gentleman," he urged, +doubtfully, yet with hope shining in his eye. "He wouldn't do it." + +"Of course, he would. Don't be ridic, old thing." + +"Wouldn't do what?" asked the boy. + +"Why save the old homestead by taking on the champion. Dashed sad +case, between ourselves! This poor egg's nominee has given him the +raspberry at the eleventh hour, and only you can save him. And you +owe it to him to do something you know, because it was your jolly +old mater's lecture last night that made the nominee quit. You must +charge in and take his place. Sort of poetic justice, don't you +know, and what not!" He turned to Mr. Blake. "When is the conflict +supposed to start? Two-thirty? You haven't any important engagement +for two-thirty, have you?" + +"No. Mother's lunching at some ladies' club, and giving a lecture +afterwards. I can slip away." + +Archie patted his head. + +"Then leg it where glory waits you, old bean!" + +The long boy was gazing earnestly at the poster. It seemed to +fascinate him. + +"Pie!" he said in a hushed voice. + +The word was like a battle-cry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +WASHY STEPS INTO THE HALL OF FAME + + +At about nine o'clock next morning, in a suite at the Hotel +Cosmopolis, Mrs. Cora Bates McCall, the eminent lecturer on Rational +Eating, was seated at breakfast with her family. Before her sat Mr. +McCall, a little hunted-looking man, the natural peculiarities of +whose face were accentuated by a pair of glasses of semicircular +shape, like half-moons with the horns turned up. Behind these, Mr. +McCall's eyes played a perpetual game of peekaboo, now peering over +them, anon ducking down and hiding behind them. He was sipping a cup +of anti-caffeine. On his right, toying listlessly with a plateful of +cereal, sat his son, Washington. Mrs. McCall herself was eating a +slice of Health Bread and nut butter. For she practised as well as +preached the doctrines which she had striven for so many years to +inculcate in an unthinking populace. Her day always began with a +light but nutritious breakfast, at which a peculiarly uninviting +cereal, which looked and tasted like an old straw hat that had been +run through a meat chopper, competed for first place in the dislike +of her husband and son with a more than usually offensive brand of +imitation coffee. Mr. McCall was inclined to think that he loathed +the imitation coffee rather more than the cereal, but Washington +held strong views on the latter's superior ghastliness. Both +Washington and his father, however, would have been fair-minded +enough to admit that it was a close thing. + +Mrs. McCall regarded her offspring with grave approval. + +"I am glad to see, Lindsay," she said to her husband, whose eyes +sprang dutifully over the glass fence as he heard his name, "that +Washy has recovered his appetite. When he refused his dinner last +night, I was afraid that he might be sickening for something. +Especially as he had quite a flushed look. You noticed his flushed +look?" + +"He did look flushed." + +"Very flushed. And his breathing was almost stertorous. And, when he +said that he had no appetite, I am bound to say that I was anxious. +But he is evidently perfectly well this morning. You do feel +perfectly well this morning, Washy?" + +The heir of the McCall's looked up from his cereal. He was a long, +thin boy of about sixteen, with pale red hair, sandy eyelashes, and +a long neck. + +"Uh-huh," he said. + +Mrs. McCall nodded. + +"Surely now you will agree, Lindsay, that a careful and rational +diet is what a boy needs? Washy's constitution is superb. He has a +remarkable stamina, and I attribute it entirely to my careful +supervision of his food. I shudder when I think of the growing boys +who are permitted by irresponsible people to devour meat, candy, +pie--" She broke off. "What is the matter, Washy?" + +It seemed that the habit of shuddering at the thought of pie ran in +the McCall family, for at the mention of the word a kind of internal +shimmy had convulsed Washington's lean frame, and over his face +there had come an expression that was almost one of pain. He had +been reaching out his hand for a slice of Health Bread, but now he +withdrew it rather hurriedly and sat back breathing hard. + +"I'm all right," he said, huskily. + +"Pie," proceeded Mrs. McCall, in her platform voice. She stopped +again abruptly. "Whatever is the matter, Washington? You are making +me feel nervous." + +"I'm all right." + +Mrs. McCall had lost the thread of her remarks. Moreover, having now +finished her breakfast, she was inclined for a little light reading. +One of the subjects allied to the matter of dietary on which she +felt deeply was the question of reading at meals. She was of the +opinion that the strain on the eye, coinciding with the strain on +the digestion, could not fail to give the latter the short end of +the contest; and it was a rule at her table that the morning paper +should not even be glanced at till the conclusion of the meal. She +said that it was upsetting to begin the day by reading the paper, +and events were to prove that she was occasionally right. + +All through breakfast the New York Chronicle had been lying neatly +folded beside her plate. She now opened it, and, with a remark about +looking for the report of her yesterday's lecture at the Butterfly +Club, directed her gaze at the front page, on which she hoped that +an editor with the best interests of the public at heart had decided +to place her. + +Mr. McCall, jumping up and down behind his glasses, scrutinised her +face closely as she began to read. He always did this on these +occasions, for none knew better than he that his comfort for the day +depended largely on some unknown reporter whom he had never met. If +this unseen individual had done his work properly and as befitted +the importance of his subject, Mrs. McCall's mood for the next +twelve hours would be as uniformly sunny as it was possible for it +to be. But sometimes the fellows scamped their job disgracefully; +and once, on a day which lived in Mr. McCall's memory, they had +failed to make a report at all. + +To-day, he noted with relief, all seemed to be well. The report +actually was on the front page, an honour rarely accorded to his +wife's utterances. Moreover, judging from the time it took her to +read the thing, she had evidently been reported at length. + +"Good, my dear?" he ventured. "Satisfactory?" + +"Eh?" Mrs. McCall smiled meditatively. "Oh, yes, excellent. They +have used my photograph, too. Not at all badly reproduced." + +"Splendid!" said Mr. McCall. + +Mrs. McCall gave a sharp shriek, and the paper fluttered from her +hand. + +"My dear!" said Mr. McCall, with concern. + +His wife had recovered the paper, and was reading with burning eyes. +A bright wave of colour had flowed over her masterful features. She +was breathing as stertorously as ever her son Washington had done on +the previous night. + +"Washington!" + +A basilisk glare shot across the table and turned the long boy to +stone--all except his mouth, which opened feebly. + +"Washington! Is this true?" + +Washy closed his mouth, then let it slowly open again. + +"My dear!" Mr. McCall's voice was alarmed. "What is it?" His eyes +had climbed up over his glasses and remained there. "What is the +matter? Is anything wrong?" + +"Wrong! Read for yourself!" + +Mr. McCall was completely mystified. He could not even formulate a +guess at the cause of the trouble. That it appeared to concern his +son Washington seemed to be the one solid fact at his disposal, and +that only made the matter still more puzzling. Where, Mr. McCall +asked himself, did Washington come in? + +He looked at the paper, and received immediate enlightenment. +Headlines met his eyes: + + GOOD STUFF IN THIS BOY. + ABOUT A TON OF IT. + SON OF CORA BATES McCALL + FAMOUS FOOD-REFORM LECTURER + WINS PIE-EATING CHAMPIONSHIP OF + WEST SIDE. + +There followed a lyrical outburst. So uplifted had the reporter +evidently felt by the importance of his news that he had been unable +to confine himself to prose:-- + + + + My children, if you fail to shine or triumph in your + special line; if, let us say, your hopes are bent on + some day being President, and folks ignore your proper + worth, and say you've not a chance on earth--Cheer up! + for in these stirring days Fame may be won in many ways. + Consider, when your spirits fall, the case of Washington + McCall. + + Yes, cast your eye on Washy, please! He looks just like + a piece of cheese: he's not a brilliant sort of chap: he + has a dull and vacant map: his eyes are blank, his face + is red, his ears stick out beside his head. In fact, to + end these compliments, he would be dear at thirty cents. + Yet Fame has welcomed to her Hall this self-same + Washington McCall. + + His mother (nee Miss Cora Bates) is one who frequently + orates upon the proper kind of food which every menu + should include. With eloquence the world she weans from + chops and steaks and pork and beans. Such horrid things + she'd like to crush, and make us live on milk and mush. + But oh! the thing that makes her sigh is when she sees + us eating pie. (We heard her lecture last July upon "The + Nation's Menace--Pie.") Alas, the hit it made was small + with Master Washington McCall. + + For yesterday we took a trip to see the great Pie + Championship, where men with bulging cheeks and eyes + consume vast quantities of pies. A fashionable West Side + crowd beheld the champion, Spike O'Dowd, endeavour to + defend his throne against an upstart, Blake's Unknown. + He wasn't an Unknown at all. He was young Washington + McCall. + + We freely own we'd give a leg if we could borrow, steal, + or beg the skill old Homer used to show. (He wrote the + Iliad, you know.) Old Homer swung a wicked pen, but we + are ordinary men, and cannot even start to dream of + doing justice to our theme. The subject of that great + repast is too magnificent and vast. We can't describe + (or even try) the way those rivals wolfed their pie. + Enough to say that, when for hours each had extended all + his pow'rs, toward the quiet evenfall O'Dowd succumbed + to young McCall. + + The champion was a willing lad. He gave the public all + he had. His was a genuine fighting soul. He'd lots of + speed and much control. No yellow streak did he evince. + He tackled apple-pie and mince. This was the motto on + his shield--"O'Dowds may burst. They never yield." His + eyes began to start and roll. He eased his belt another + hole. Poor fellow! With a single glance one saw that he + had not a chance. A python would have had to crawl and + own defeat from young McCall. + + At last, long last, the finish came. His features + overcast with shame, O'Dowd, who'd faltered once or + twice, declined to eat another slice. He tottered off, + and kindly men rallied around with oxygen. But Washy, + Cora Bates's son, seemed disappointed it was done. He + somehow made those present feel he'd barely started on + his meal. We ask him, "Aren't you feeling bad?" "Me!" + said the lion-hearted lad. "Lead me"--he started for the + street--"where I can get a bite to eat!" Oh, what a + lesson does it teach to all of us, that splendid speech! + How better can the curtain fall on Master Washington + McCall! + + +Mr. McCall read this epic through, then he looked at his son. He +first looked at him over his glasses, then through his glasses, then +over his glasses again, then through his glasses once more. A +curious expression was in his eyes. If such a thing had not been so +impossible, one would have said that his gaze had in it something of +respect, of admiration, even of reverence. + +"But how did they find out your name?" he asked, at length. + +Mrs. McCall exclaimed impatiently. + +"Is THAT all you have to say?" + +"No, no, my dear, of course not, quite so. But the point struck me +as curious." + +"Wretched boy," cried Mrs. McCall, "were you insane enough to reveal +your name?" + +Washington wriggled uneasily. Unable to endure the piercing stare of +his mother, he had withdrawn to the window, and was looking out with +his back turned. But even there he could feel her eyes on the back +of his neck. + +"I didn't think it 'ud matter," he mumbled. "A fellow with +tortoiseshell-rimmed specs asked me, so I told him. How was I to +know--" + +His stumbling defence was cut short by the opening of the door. + +"Hallo-allo-allo! What ho! What ho!" + +Archie was standing in the doorway, beaming ingratiatingly on the +family. + +The apparition of an entire stranger served to divert the lightning +of Mrs. McCall's gaze from the unfortunate Washy. Archie, catching +it between the eyes, blinked and held on to the wall. He had begun +to regret that he had yielded so weakly to Lucille's entreaty that +he should look in on the McCalls and use the magnetism of his +personality upon them in the hope of inducing them to settle the +lawsuit. He wished, too, if the visit had to be paid that he had +postponed it till after lunch, for he was never at his strongest in +the morning. But Lucille had urged him to go now and get it over, +and here he was. + +"I think," said Mrs. McCall, icily, "that you must have mistaken +your room." + +Archie rallied his shaken forces. + +"Oh, no. Rather not. Better introduce myself, what? My name's +Moffam, you know. I'm old Brewster's son-in-law, and all that sort +of rot, if you know what I mean." He gulped and continued. "I've +come about this jolly old lawsuit, don't you know." + +Mr. McCall seemed about to speak, but his wife anticipated him. + +"Mr. Brewster's attorneys are in communication with ours. We do not +wish to discuss the matter." + +Archie took an uninvited seat, eyed the Health Bread on the +breakfast table for a moment with frank curiosity, and resumed his +discourse. + +"No, but I say, you know! I'll tell you what happened. I hate to +totter in where I'm not wanted and all that, but my wife made such a +point of it. Rightly or wrongly she regards me as a bit of a hound +in the diplomacy line, and she begged me to look you up and see +whether we couldn't do something about settling the jolly old thing. +I mean to say, you know, the old bird--old Brewster, you know--is +considerably perturbed about the affair--hates the thought of being +in a posish where he has either got to bite his old pal McCall in +the neck or be bitten by him--and--well, and so forth, don't you +know! How about it?" He broke off. "Great Scot! I say, what!" + +So engrossed had he been in his appeal that he had not observed the +presence of the pie-eating champion, between whom and himself a +large potted plant intervened. But now Washington, hearing the +familiar voice, had moved from the window and was confronting him +with an accusing stare. + +"HE made me do it!" said Washy, with the stern joy a sixteen-year- +old boy feels when he sees somebody on to whose shoulders he can +shift trouble from his own. "That's the fellow who took me to the +place!" + +"What are you talking about, Washington?" + +"I'm telling you! He got me into the thing." + +"Do you mean this--this--" Mrs. McCall shuddered. "Are you referring +to this pie-eating contest?" + +"You bet I am!" + +"Is this true?" Mrs. McCall glared stonily at Archie, "Was it you +who lured my poor boy into that--that--" + +"Oh, absolutely. The fact is, don't you know, a dear old pal of mine +who runs a tobacco shop on Sixth Avenue was rather in the soup. He +had backed a chappie against the champion, and the chappie was +converted by one of your lectures and swore off pie at the eleventh +hour. Dashed hard luck on the poor chap, don't you know! And then I +got the idea that our little friend here was the one to step in and +save the situash, so I broached the matter to him. And I'll tell you +one thing," said Archie, handsomely, "I don't know what sort of a +capacity the original chappie had, but I'll bet he wasn't in your +son's class. Your son has to be seen to be believed! Absolutely! You +ought to be proud of him!" He turned in friendly fashion to Washy. +"Rummy we should meet again like this! Never dreamed I should find +you here. And, by Jove, it's absolutely marvellous how fit you look +after yesterday. I had a sort of idea you would be groaning on a bed +of sickness and all that." + +There was a strange gurgling sound in the background. It resembled +something getting up steam. And this, curiously enough, is precisely +what it was. The thing that was getting up steam was Mr. Lindsay +McCall. + +The first effect of the Washy revelations on Mr. McCall had been +merely to stun him. It was not until the arrival of Archie that he +had had leisure to think; but since Archie's entrance he had been +thinking rapidly and deeply. + +For many years Mr. McCall had been in a state of suppressed +revolution. He had smouldered, but had not dared to blaze. But this +startling upheaval of his fellow-sufferer, Washy, had acted upon him +like a high explosive. There was a strange gleam in his eye, a gleam +of determination. He was breathing hard. + +"Washy!" + +His voice had lost its deprecating mildness. It rang strong and +clear. + +"Yes, pop?" + +"How many pies did you eat yesterday?" + +Washy considered. + +"A good few." + +"How many? Twenty?" + +"More than that. I lost count. A good few." + +"And you feel as well as ever?" + +"I feel fine." + +Mr. McCall dropped his glasses. He glowered for a moment at the +breakfast table. His eye took in the Health Bread, the imitation +coffee-pot, the cereal, the nut-butter. Then with a swift movement +he seized the cloth, jerked it forcibly, and brought the entire +contents rattling and crashing to the floor. + +"Lindsay!" + +Mr. McCall met his wife's eye with quiet determination. It was plain +that something had happened in the hinterland of Mr. McCall's soul. + +"Cora," he said, resolutely, "I have come to a decision. I've been +letting you run things your own way a little too long in this +family. I'm going to assert myself. For one thing, I've had all I +want of this food-reform foolery. Look at Washy! Yesterday that boy +seems to have consumed anything from a couple of hundredweight to a +ton of pie, and he has thriven on it! Thriven! I don't want to hurt +your feelings, Cora, but Washington and I have drunk our last cup of +anti-caffeine! If you care to go on with the stuff, that's your +look-out. But Washy and I are through." + +He silenced his wife with a masterful gesture and turned to Archie. +"And there's another thing. I never liked the idea of that lawsuit, +but I let you talk me into it. Now I'm going to do things my way. +Mr. Moffam, I'm glad you looked in this morning. I'll do just what +you want. Take me to Dan Brewster now, and let's call the thing off, +and shake hands on it." + +"Are you mad, Lindsay?" + +It was Cora Bates McCall's last shot. Mr. McCall paid no attention +to it. He was shaking hands with Archie. + +"I consider you, Mr. Moffam," he said, "the most sensible young man +I have ever met!" + +Archie blushed modestly. + +"Awfully good of you, old bean," he said. "I wonder if you'd mind +telling my jolly old father-in-law that? It'll be a bit of news for +him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +MOTHER'S KNEE + + +Archie Moffam's connection with that devastatingly popular ballad, +"Mother's Knee," was one to which he always looked back later with a +certain pride. "Mother's Knee," it will be remembered, went through +the world like a pestilence. Scots elders hummed it on their way to +kirk; cannibals crooned it to their offspring in the jungles of +Borneo; it was a best-seller among the Bolshevists. In the United +States alone three million copies were disposed of. For a man who +has not accomplished anything outstandingly great in his life, it is +something to have been in a sense responsible for a song like that; +and, though there were moments when Archie experienced some of the +emotions of a man who has punched a hole in the dam of one of the +larger reservoirs, he never really regretted his share in the +launching of the thing. + +It seems almost bizarre now to think that there was a time when even +one person in the world had not heard "Mother's Knee"; but it came +fresh to Archie one afternoon some weeks after the episode of Washy, +in his suite at the Hotel Cosmopolis, where he was cementing with +cigarettes and pleasant conversation his renewed friendship with +Wilson Hymack, whom he had first met in the neighbourhood of +Armentieres during the war. + +"What are you doing these days?" enquired Wilson Hymack. + +"Me?" said Archie. "Well, as a matter of fact, there is what you +might call a sort of species of lull in my activities at the moment. +But my jolly old father-in-law is bustling about, running up a new +hotel a bit farther down-town, and the scheme is for me to be +manager when it's finished. From what I have seen in this place, +it's a simple sort of job, and I fancy I shall be somewhat hot +stuff. How are you filling in the long hours?" + +"I'm in my uncle's office, darn it!" + +"Starting at the bottom and learning the business and all that? A +noble pursuit, no doubt, but I'm bound to say it would give me the +pip in no uncertain manner." + +"It gives me," said Wilson Hymack, "a pain in the thorax. I want to +be a composer." + +"A composer, eh?" + +Archie felt that he should have guessed this. The chappie had a +distinctly artistic look. He wore a bow-tie and all that sort of +thing. His trousers bagged at the knees, and his hair, which during +the martial epoch of his career had been pruned to the roots, fell +about his ears in luxuriant disarray. + +"Say! Do you want to hear the best thing I've ever done?" + +"Indubitably," said Archie, politely. "Carry on, old bird!" + +"I wrote the lyric as well as the melody," said Wilson Hymack, who +had already seated himself at the piano. "It's got the greatest +title you ever heard. It's a lallapaloosa! It's called 'It's a Long +Way Back to Mother's Knee.' How's that? Poor, eh?" + +Archie expelled a smoke-ring doubtfully. + +"Isn't it a little stale?" + +"Stale? What do you mean, stale? There's always room for another +song boosting Mother." + +"Oh, is it boosting Mother?" Archie's face cleared. "I thought it +was a hit at the short skirts. Why, of course, that makes all the +difference. In that case, I see no reason why it should not be ripe, +fruity, and pretty well all to the mustard. Let's have it." + +Wilson Hymack pushed as much of his hair out of his eyes as he could +reach with one hand, cleared his throat, looked dreamily over the +top of the piano at a photograph of Archie's father-in-law, Mr. +Daniel Brewster, played a prelude, and began to sing in a weak, +high, composer's voice. All composers sing exactly alike, and they +have to be heard to be believed. + +"One night a young man wandered through the glitter of Broadway: His +money he had squandered. For a meal he couldn't pay." + +"Tough luck!" murmured Archie, sympathetically. + + "He thought about the village where his boyhood he had + spent, And yearned for all the simple joys with which + he'd been content." + +"The right spirit!" said Archie, with approval. "I'm beginning to +like this chappie!" + +"Don't interrupt!" + +"Oh, right-o! Carried away and all that!" + + "He looked upon the city, so frivolous and gay; And, + as he heaved a weary sigh, these words he then did say: + It's a long way back to Mother's knee, + Mother's knee, + Mother's knee: + It's a long way back to Mother's knee, + Where I used to stand and prattle + With my teddy-bear and rattle: + Oh, those childhood days in Tennessee, + They sure look good to me! + It's a long, long way, but I'm gonna start to-day! + I'm going back, + Believe me, oh! + I'm going back + (I want to go!) + I'm going back--back--on the seven-three + To the dear old shack where I used to be! + I'm going back to Mother's knee!" + +Wilson Hymack's voice cracked on the final high note, which was of +an altitude beyond his powers. He turned with a modest cough. + +"That'll give you an idea of it!" + +"It has, old thing, it has!" + +"Is it or is it not a ball of fire?" + +"It has many of the earmarks of a sound egg," admitted Archie. "Of +course--" + +"Of course, it wants singing." + +"Just what I was going to suggest." + +"It wants a woman to sing it. A woman who could reach out for that +last high note and teach it to take a joke. The whole refrain is +working up to that. You need Tetrazzini or someone who would just +pick that note off the roof and hold it till the janitor came round +to lock up the building for the night." + +"I must buy a copy for my wife. Where can I get it?" + +"You can't get it! It isn't published. Writing music's the darndest +job!" Wilson Hymack snorted fiercely. It was plain that the man was +pouring out the pent-up emotion of many days. "You write the biggest +thing in years and you go round trying to get someone to sing it, +and they say you're a genius and then shove the song away in a +drawer and forget about it." + +Archie lit another cigarette. + +"I'm a jolly old child in these matters, old lad," he said, "but why +don't you take it direct to a publisher? As a matter of fact, if it +would be any use to you, I was foregathering with a music-publisher +only the other day. A bird of the name of Blumenthal. He was +lunching in here with a pal of mine, and we got tolerably matey. Why +not let me tool you round to the office to-morrow and play it to +him?" + +"No, thanks. Much obliged, but I'm not going to play that melody in +any publisher's office with his hired gang of Tin-Pan Alley +composers listening at the keyhole and taking notes. I'll have to +wait till I can find somebody to sing it. Well, I must be going +along. Glad to have seen you again. Sooner or later I'll take you to +hear that high note sung by someone in a way that'll make your spine +tie itself in knots round the back of your neck." + +"I'll count the days," said Archie, courteously. "Pip-pip!" + +Hardly had the door closed behind the composer when it opened again +to admit Lucille. + +"Hallo, light of my soul!" said Archie, rising and embracing his +wife. "Where have you been all the afternoon? I was expecting you +this many an hour past. I wanted you to meet--" + +"I've been having tea with a girl down in Greenwich Village. I +couldn't get away before. Who was that who went out just as I came +along the passage?" + +"Chappie of the name of Hymack. I met him in France. A composer and +what not." + +"We seem to have been moving in artistic circles this afternoon. The +girl I went to see is a singer. At least, she wants to sing, but +gets no encouragement." + +"Precisely the same with my bird. He wants to get his music sung but +nobody'll sing it. But I didn't know you knew any Greenwich Village +warblers, sunshine of my home. How did you meet this female?" + +Lucille sat down and gazed forlornly at him with her big grey eyes. +She was registering something, but Archie could not gather what it +was. + +"Archie, darling, when you married me you undertook to share my +sorrows, didn't you?" + +"Absolutely! It's all in the book of words. For better or for worse, +in sickness and in health, all-down-set-'em-up-in-the-other-alley. +Regular iron-clad contract!" + +"Then share 'em!" said Lucille. "Bill's in love again!" + +Archie blinked. + +"Bill? When you say Bill, do you mean Bill? Your brother Bill? My +brother-in-law Bill? Jolly old William, the son and heir of the +Brewsters?" + +"I do." + +"You say he's in love? Cupid's dart?" + +"Even so!" + +"But, I say! Isn't this rather--What I mean to say is, the lad's an +absolute scourge! The Great Lover, what! Also ran, Brigham Young, +and all that sort of thing! Why, it's only a few weeks ago that he +was moaning brokenly about that vermilion-haired female who +subsequently hooked on to old Reggie van Tuyl!" + +"She's a little better than that girl, thank goodness. All the same, +I don't think Father will approve." + +"Of what calibre is the latest exhibit?" + +"Well, she comes from the Middle West, and seems to be trying to be +twice as Bohemian as the rest of the girls down in Greenwich +Village. She wears her hair bobbed and goes about in a kimono. She's +probably read magazine stories about Greenwich Village, and has +modelled herself on them. It's so silly, when you can see Hicks +Corners sticking out of her all the time." + +"That one got past me before I could grab it. What did you say she +had sticking out of her?" + +"I meant that anybody could see that she came from somewhere out in +the wilds. As a matter of fact, Bill tells me that she was brought +up in Snake Bite, Michigan." + +"Snake Bite? What rummy names you have in America! Still, I'll admit +there's a village in England called Nether Wallop, so who am I to +cast the first stone? How is old Bill? Pretty feverish?" + +"He says this time it is the real thing." + +"That's what they all say! I wish I had a dollar for every time-- +Forgotten what I was going to say!" broke off Archie, prudently. "So +you think," he went on, after a pause, "that William's latest is +going to be one more shock for the old dad?" + +"I can't imagine Father approving of her." + +"I've studied your merry old progenitor pretty closely," said +Archie, "and, between you and me, I can't imagine him approving of +anybody!" + +"I can't understand why it is that Bill goes out of his way to pick +these horrors. I know at least twenty delightful girls, all pretty +and with lots of money, who would be just the thing for him; but he +sneaks away and goes falling in love with someone impossible. And +the worst of it is that one always feels one's got to do one's best +to see him through." + +"Absolutely! One doesn't want to throw a spanner into the works of +Love's young dream. It behoves us to rally round. Have you heard +this girl sing?" + +"Yes. She sang this afternoon." + +"What sort of a voice has she got?" + +"Well, it's--loud!" + +"Could she pick a high note off the roof and hold it till the +janitor came round to lock up the building for the night?" + +"What on earth do you mean?" + +"Answer me this, woman, frankly. How is her high note? Pretty +lofty?" + +"Why, yes." + +"Then say no more," said Archie. "Leave this to me, my dear old +better four-fifths! Hand the whole thing over to Archibald, the man +who never lets you down. I have a scheme!" + + As Archie approached his suite on the following afternoon he heard +through the closed door the drone of a gruff male voice; and, going +in, discovered Lucille in the company of his brother-in-law. +Lucille, Archie thought, was looking a trifle fatigued. Bill, on the +other hand, was in great shape. His eyes were shining, and his face +looked so like that of a stuffed frog that Archie had no difficulty +in gathering that he had been lecturing on the subject of his latest +enslaver. + +"Hallo, Bill, old crumpet!" he said. + +"Hallo, Archie!" + +"I'm so glad you've come," said Lucille. "Bill is telling me all +about Spectatia." + +"Who?" + +"Spectatia. The girl, you know. Her name is Spectatia Huskisson." + +"It can't be!" said Archie, incredulously. + +"Why not?" growled Bill. + +"Well, how could it?" said Archie, appealing to him as a reasonable +man. "I mean to say! Spectatia Huskisson! I gravely doubt whether +there is such a name." + +"What's wrong with it?" demanded the incensed Bill. "It's a darned +sight better name than Archibald Moffam." + +"Don't fight, you two children!" intervened Lucille, firmly. "It's a +good old Middle West name. Everybody knows the Huskissons of Snake +Bite, Michigan. Besides, Bill calls her Tootles." + +"Pootles," corrected Bill, austerely. + +"Oh, yes, Pootles. He calls her Pootles." + +"Young blood! Young blood!" sighed Archie. + +"I wish you wouldn't talk as if you were my grandfather." + +"I look on you as a son, laddie, a favourite son!" + +"If I had a father like you--!"-"Ah, but you haven't, young-feller- +me-lad, and that's the trouble. If you had, everything would be +simple. But as your actual father, if you'll allow me to say so, is +one of the finest specimens of the human vampire-bat in captivity, +something has got to be done about it, and you're dashed lucky to +have me in your corner, a guide, philosopher, and friend, full of +the fruitiest ideas. Now, if you'll kindly listen to me for a +moment--" + +"I've been listening to you ever since you came in." + +"You wouldn't speak in that harsh tone of voice if you knew all! +William, I have a scheme!" + +"Well?" + +"The scheme to which I allude is what Maeterlinck would call a +lallapaloosa!" + +"What a little marvel he is!" said Lucille, regarding her husband +affectionately. "He eats a lot of fish, Bill. That's what makes him +so clever!" + +"Shrimps!" diagnosed Bill, churlishly. + +"Do you know the leader of the orchestra in the restaurant +downstairs?" asked Archie, ignoring the slur. + +"I know there IS a leader of the orchestra. What about him?" + +"A sound fellow. Great pal of mine. I've forgotten his name--" + +"Call him Pootles!" suggested Lucille. + +"Desist!" said Archie, as a wordless growl proceeded from his +stricken brother-in-law. "Temper your hilarity with a modicum of +reserve. This girlish frivolity is unseemly. Well, I'm going to have +a chat with this chappie and fix it all up." + +"Fix what up?" + +"The whole jolly business. I'm going to kill two birds with one +stone. I've a composer chappie popping about in the background whose +one ambish. is to have his pet song sung before a discriminating +audience. You have a singer straining at the leash. I'm going to +arrange with this egg who leads the orchestra that your female shall +sing my chappie's song downstairs one night during dinner. How about +it? Is it or is it not a ball of fire?" + +"It's not a bad idea," admitted Bill, brightening visibly. "I +wouldn't have thought you had it in you." + +"Why not?" + +"Well--" + +"It's a capital idea," said Lucille. "Quite out of the question, of +course." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Don't you know that the one thing Father hates more than anything +else in the world is anything like a cabaret? People are always +coming to him, suggesting that it would brighten up the dinner hour +if he had singers and things, and he crushes them into little bits. +He thinks there's nothing that lowers the tone of a place more. +He'll bite you in three places when you suggest it to him!" + +"Ah! But has it escaped your notice, lighting system of my soul, +that the dear old dad is not at present in residence? He went off to +fish at Lake What's-its-name this morning." + +"You aren't dreaming of doing this without asking him?" + +"That was the general idea." + +"But he'll be furious when he finds out." + +"But will he find out? I ask you, will he?" + +"Of course he will." + +"I don't see why he should," said Bill, on whose plastic mind the +plan had made a deep impression. + +"He won't," said Archie, confidently. "This wheeze is for one night +only. By the time the jolly old guv'nor returns, bitten to the bone +by mosquitoes, with one small stuffed trout in his suit-case, +everything will be over and all quiet once more along the Potomac. +The scheme is this. My chappie wants his song heard by a +publisher. Your girl wants her voice heard by one of the blighters +who get up concerts and all that sort of thing. No doubt you know +such a bird, whom you could invite to the hotel for a bit of +dinner?" + +"I know Carl Steinburg. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of +writing to him about Spectatia." + +"You're absolutely sure that IS her name?" said Archie, his voice +still tinged with incredulity. "Oh, well, I suppose she told you so +herself, and no doubt she knows best. That will be topping. Rope in +your pal and hold him down at the table till the finish. Lucille, +the beautiful vision on the sky-line yonder, and I will be at +another table entertaining Maxie Blumenthal" + +"Who on earth is Maxie Blumenthal?" asked Lucille. + +"One of my boyhood chums. A music-publisher. I'll get him to come +along, and then we'll all be set. At the conclusion of the +performance Miss--" Archie winced--"Miss Spectatia Huskisson will +be signed up for a forty weeks' tour, and jovial old Blumenthal +will be making all arrangements for publishing the song. Two birds, +as I indicated before, with one stone! How about it?" + +"It's a winner," said Bill. + +"Of course," said Archie, "I'm not urging you. I merely make the +suggestion. If you know a better 'ole go to it!" + +"It's terrific!" said Bill. + +"It's absurd!" said Lucille. + +"My dear old partner of joys and sorrows," said Archie, wounded, +"we court criticism, but this is mere abuse. What seems to be the +difficulty?" + +"The leader of the orchestra would be afraid to do it." + +"Ten dollars--supplied by William here--push it over, Bill, old +man--will remove his tremors." + +"And Father's certain to find out." + +"Am I afraid of Father?" cried Archie, manfully. "Well, yes, I am!" +he added, after a moment's reflection. "But I don't see how he can +possibly get to know." + +"Of course he can't," said Bill, decidedly. "Fix it up as soon as +you can, Archie. This is what the doctor ordered." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE MELTING OF MR. CONNOLLY + + +The main dining-room of the Hotel Cosmopolis is a decorous place. +The lighting is artistically dim, and the genuine old tapestries on +the walls seem, with their mediaeval calm, to discourage any essay +in the riotous. Soft-footed waiters shimmer to and fro over thick, +expensive carpets to the music of an orchestra which abstains wholly +from the noisy modernity of jazz. To Archie, who during the past few +days had been privileged to hear Miss Huskisson rehearsing, the +place had a sort of brooding quiet, like the ocean just before the +arrival of a cyclone. As Lucille had said, Miss Huskisson's voice +was loud. It was a powerful organ, and there was no doubt that it +would take the cloistered stillness of the Cosmopolis dining-room +and stand it on one ear. Almost unconsciously, Archie found himself +bracing his muscles and holding his breath as he had done in France +at the approach of the zero hour, when awaiting the first roar of a +barrage. He listened mechanically to the conversation of Mr. +Blumenthal. + +The music-publisher was talking with some vehemence on the subject +of Labour. A recent printers' strike had bitten deeply into Mr. +Blumenthal's soul. The working man, he considered, was rapidly +landing God's Country in the soup, and he had twice upset his glass +with the vehemence of his gesticulation. He was an energetic right- +and-left-hand talker. + +"The more you give 'em the more they want!" he complained. "There's +no pleasing 'em! It isn't only in my business. There's your father, +Mrs. Moffam!" + +"Good God! Where?" said Archie, starting. + +"I say, take your father's case. He's doing all he knows to get this +new hotel of his finished, and what happens? A man gets fired for +loafing on his job, and Connolly calls a strike. And the building +operations are held up till the thing's settled! It isn't right!" + +"It's a great shame," agreed Lucille. "I was reading about it in the +paper this morning." + +"That man Connolly's a tough guy. You'd think, being a personal +friend of your father, he would--" + +"I didn't know they were friends." + +"Been friends for years. But a lot of difference that makes. Out +come the men just the same. It isn't right! I was saying it wasn't +right!" repeated Mr. Blumenthal to Archie, for he was a man who +liked the attention of every member of his audience. + +Archie did not reply. He was staring glassily across the room at two +men who had just come in. One was a large, stout, square-faced man +of commanding personality. The other was Mr. Daniel Brewster. + +Mr. Blumenthal followed his gaze. + +"Why, there is Connolly coming in now!" + +"Father!" gasped Lucille. + +Her eyes met Archie's. Archie took a hasty drink of ice-water. + +"This," he murmured, "has torn it!" + +"Archie, you must do something!" + +"I know! But what?" + +"What's the trouble?" enquired Mr. Blumenthal, mystified. + +"Go over to their table and talk to them," said Lucille. + +"Me!" Archie quivered. "No, I say, old thing, really!" + +"Get them away!" + +"How do you mean?" + +"I know!" cried Lucille, inspired, "Father promised that you should +be manager of the new hotel when it was built. Well, then, this +strike affects you just as much as anybody else. You have a perfect +right to talk it over with them. Go and ask them to have dinner up +in our suite where you can discuss it quietly. Say that up there +they won't be disturbed by the--the music." + +At this moment, while Archie wavered, hesitating like a diver on the +edge of a spring-board who is trying to summon up the necessary +nerve to project himself into the deep, a bell-boy approached the +table where the Messrs. Brewster and Connolly had seated themselves. +He murmured something in Mr. Brewster's ear, and the proprietor of +the Cosmopolis rose and followed him out of the room. + +"Quick! Now's your chance!" said Lucille, eagerly. "Father's been +called to the telephone. Hurry!" + +Archie took another drink of ice-water to steady his shaking nerve- +centers, pulled down his waistcoat, straightened his tie, and then, +with something of the air of a Roman gladiator entering the arena, +tottered across the room. Lucille turned to entertain the perplexed +music-publisher. + +The nearer Archie got to Mr. Aloysius Connolly the less did he like +the looks of him. Even at a distance the Labour leader had had a +formidable aspect. Seen close to, he looked even more uninviting. +His face had the appearance of having been carved out of granite, +and the eye which collided with Archie's as the latter, with an +attempt at an ingratiating smile, pulled up a chair and sat down at +the table was hard and frosty. Mr. Connolly gave the impression that +he would be a good man to have on your side during a rough-and- +tumble fight down on the water-front or in some lumber-camp, but he +did not look chummy. + +"Hallo-allo-allo!" said Archie. + +"Who the devil," inquired Mr. Connolly, "are you?" + +"My name's Archibald Moffam." + +"That's not my fault." + +"I'm jolly old Brewster's son-in-law." + +"Glad to meet you." + +"Glad to meet YOU," said Archie, handsomely. + +"Well, good-bye!" said Mr. Connolly. + +"Eh?" + +"Run along and sell your papers. Your father-in-law and I have +business to discuss." + +"Yes, I know." + +"Private," added Mr. Connolly. + +"Oh, but I'm in on this binge, you know. I'm going to be the manager +of the new hotel." + +"You!" + +"Absolutely!" + +"Well, well!" said Mr. Connolly, noncommittally. + +Archie, pleased with the smoothness with which matters had opened, +bent forward winsomely. + +"I say, you know! It won't do, you know! Absolutely no! Not a bit +like it! No, no, far from it! Well, how about it? How do we go? +What? Yes? No?" + +"What on earth are you talking about?" + +"Call it off, old thing!" + +"Call what off?" + +"This festive old strike." + +"Not on your--hallo, Dan! Back again?" + +Mr. Brewster, looming over the table like a thundercloud, regarded +Archie with more than his customary hostility. Life was no pleasant +thing for the proprietor of the Cosmopolis just now. Once a man +starts building hotels, the thing becomes like dram-drinking. Any +hitch, any sudden cutting-off of the daily dose, has the worst +effects; and the strike which was holding up the construction of his +latest effort had plunged Mr. Brewster into a restless gloom. In +addition to having this strike on his hands, he had had to abandon +his annual fishing-trip just when he had begun to enjoy it; and, as +if all this were not enough, here was his son-in-law sitting at his +table. Mr. Brewster had a feeling that this was more than man was +meant to bear. + +"What do you want?" he demanded. + +"Hallo, old thing!" said Archie. "Come and join the party!" + +"Don't call me old thing!" + +"Right-o, old companion, just as you say. I say, I was just going to +suggest to Mr. Connolly that we should all go up to my suite and +talk this business over quietly." + +"He says he's the manager of your new hotel," said Mr. Connolly. "Is +that right?" + +"I suppose so," said Mr. Brewster, gloomily. + +"Then I'm doing you a kindness," said Mr. Connolly, "in not letting +it be built." + +Archie dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief. The moments +were flying, and it began to seem impossible to shift these two men. +Mr. Connolly was as firmly settled in his chair as some primeval +rock. As for Mr. Brewster, he, too, had seated himself, and was +gazing at Archie with a weary repulsion. Mr. Brewster's glance +always made Archie feel as though there were soup on his shirt- +front. + +And suddenly from the orchestra at the other end of the room there +came a familiar sound, the prelude of "Mother's Knee." + +"So you've started a cabaret, Dan?" said Mr. Connolly, in a +satisfied voice. "I always told you you were behind the times here!" + +Mr. Brewster jumped. + +"Cabaret!" + +He stared unbelievingly at the white-robed figure which had just +mounted the orchestra dais, and then concentrated his gaze on +Archie. + +Archie would not have looked at his father-in-law at this juncture +if he had had a free and untrammelled choice; but Mr. Brewster's eye +drew his with something of the fascination which a snake's has for a +rabbit. Mr. Brewster's eye was fiery and intimidating. A basilisk +might have gone to him with advantage for a course of lessons. His +gaze went right through Archie till the latter seemed to feel his +back-hair curling crisply in the flames. + +"Is this one of your fool-tricks?" + +Even in this tense moment Archie found time almost unconsciously to +admire his father-in-law's penetration and intuition. He seemed to +have a sort of sixth sense. No doubt this was how great fortunes +were made. + +"Well, as a matter of fact--to be absolutely accurate--it was like +this--" + +"Say, cut it out!" said Mr. Connolly. "Can the chatter! I want to +listen." + +Archie was only too ready to oblige him. Conversation at the moment +was the last thing he himself desired. He managed with a strong +effort to disengage himself from Mr. Brewster's eye, and turned to +the orchestra dais, where Miss Spectatia Huskisson was now beginning +the first verse of Wilson Hymack's masterpiece. + +Miss Huskisson, like so many of the female denizens of the Middle +West, was tall and blonde and constructed on substantial lines. She +was a girl whose appearance suggested the old homestead and fried +pancakes and pop coming home to dinner after the morning's +ploughing. Even her bobbed hair did not altogether destroy this +impression. She looked big and strong and healthy, and her lungs +were obviously good. She attacked the verse of the song with +something of the vigour and breadth of treatment with which in other +days she had reasoned with refractory mules. Her diction was the +diction of one trained to call the cattle home in the teeth of +Western hurricanes. Whether you wanted to or not, you heard every +word. + +The subdued clatter of knives and forks had ceased. The diners, +unused to this sort of thing at the Cosmopolis, were trying to +adjust their faculties to cope with the outburst. Waiters stood +transfixed, frozen, in attitudes of service. In the momentary lull +between verse and refrain Archie could hear the deep breathing of +Mr. Brewster. Involuntarily he turned to gaze at him once more, as +refugees from Pompeii may have turned to gaze upon Vesuvius; and, as +he did so, he caught sight of Mr. Connolly, and paused in +astonishment. + +Mr. Connolly was an altered man. His whole personality had undergone +a subtle change. His face still looked as though hewn from the +living rock, but into his eyes had crept an expression which in +another man might almost have been called sentimental. Incredible as +it seemed to Archie, Mr. Connolly's eyes were dreamy. There was even +in them a suggestion of unshed tears. And when with a vast +culmination of sound Miss Huskisson reached the high note at the end +of the refrain and, after holding it as some storming-party, spent +but victorious, holds the summit of a hard-won redoubt, broke off +suddenly, in the stillness which followed there proceeded from Mr. +Connolly a deep sigh. + +Miss Huskisson began the second verse. And Mr. Brewster, seeming to +recover from some kind of a trance, leaped to his feet. + +"Great Godfrey!" + +"Sit down!" said Mr. Connolly, in a broken voice. "Sit down, Dan!" + + "He went back to his mother on the train that very day: + He knew there was no other who could make him bright and + gay: + He kissed her on the forehead and he whispered, 'I've come + home!' + He told her he was never going any more to roam. + And onward through the happy years, till he grew old and + grey, + He never once regretted those brave words he once did say: + It's a long way back to mother's knee--" + +The last high note screeched across the room like a shell, and the +applause that followed was like a shell's bursting. One could hardly +have recognised the refined interior of the Cosmopolis dining-room. +Fair women were waving napkins; brave men were hammering on the +tables with the butt-end of knives, for all the world as if they +imagined themselves to be in one of those distressing midnight-revue +places. Miss Huskisson bowed, retired, returned, bowed, and retired +again, the tears streaming down her ample face. Over in a corner +Archie could see his brother-in-law clapping strenuously. A waiter, +with a display of manly emotion that did him credit, dropped an +order of new peas. + +"Thirty years ago last October," said Mr. Connolly, in a shaking +voice, "I--" + +Mr. Brewster interrupted him violently. + +"I'll fire that orchestra-leader! He goes to-morrow! I'll fire--" He +turned on Archie. "What the devil do you mean by it, you--you--" + +"Thirty years ago," said Mr. Connolly, wiping away a tear with his +napkin, "I left me dear old home in the old country--" + +"MY hotel a bear-garden!" + +"Frightfully sorry and all that, old companion--" + +"Thirty years ago last October! 'Twas a fine autumn evening the +finest ye'd ever wish to see. Me old mother, she came to the station +to see me off." + +Mr. Brewster, who was not deeply interested in Mr. Connolly's old +mother, continued to splutter inarticulately, like a firework trying +to go off. + +"'Ye'll always be a good boy, Aloysius?' she said to me," said Mr. +Connolly, proceeding with, his autobiography. "And I said: 'Yes, +Mother, I will!'" Mr. Connolly sighed and applied the napkin again. +"'Twas a liar I was!" he observed, remorsefully. "Many's the dirty +I've played since then. 'It's a long way back to Mother's knee.' +'Tis a true word!" He turned impulsively to Mr. Brewster. "Dan, +there's a deal of trouble in this world without me going out of me +way to make more. The strike is over! I'll send the men back +tomorrow! There's me hand on it!" + +Mr. Brewster, who had just managed to co-ordinate his views on the +situation and was about to express them with the generous strength +which was ever his custom when dealing with his son-in-law, checked +himself abruptly. He stared at his old friend and business enemy, +wondering if he could have heard aright. Hope began to creep back +into Mr. Brewster's heart, like a shamefaced dog that has been away +from home hunting for a day or two. + +"You'll what!" + +"I'll send the men back to-morrow! That song was sent to guide me, +Dan! It was meant! Thirty years ago last October me dear old mother--" + +Mr. Brewster bent forward attentively. His views on Mr. Connolly's +dear old mother had changed. He wanted to hear all about her. + +"'Twas that last note that girl sang brought it all back to me as if +'twas yesterday. As we waited on the platform, me old mother and I, +out comes the train from the tunnel, and the engine lets off a +screech the way ye'd hear it ten miles away. 'Twas thirty years ago--" + +Archie stole softly from the table. He felt that his presence, if it +had ever been required, was required no longer. Looking back, he +could see his father-in-law patting Mr. Connolly affectionately on +the shoulder. + +Archie and Lucille lingered over their coffee. Mr. Blumenthal was +out in the telephone-box settling the business end with Wilson +Hymack. The music-publisher had been unstinted in his praise of +"Mother's Knee." It was sure-fire, he said. The words, stated Mr. +Blumenthal, were gooey enough to hurt, and the tune reminded him of +every other song-hit he had ever heard. There was, in Mr. +Blumenthal's opinion, nothing to stop this thing selling a million +copies. + +Archie smoked contentedly. + +"Not a bad evening's work, old thing," he said. "Talk about birds +with one stone!" He looked at Lucille reproachfully. "You don't seem +bubbling over with joy." + +"Oh, I am, precious!" Lucille sighed. "I was only thinking about +Bill." + +"What about Bill?" + +"Well, it's rather awful to think of him tied for life to that-that +steam-siren." + +"Oh, we mustn't look on the jolly old dark side. Perhaps--Hallo, +Bill, old top! We were just talking about you." + +"Were you?" said Bill Brewster, in a dispirited voice. + +"I take it that you want congratulations, what?" + +"I want sympathy!" + +"Sympathy?" + +"Sympathy! And lots of it! She's gone!" + +"Gone! Who?" + +"Spectatia!" + +"How do you mean, gone?" + +Bill glowered at the tablecloth. + +"Gone home. I've just seen her off in a cab. She's gone back to +Washington Square to pack. She's catching the ten o'clock train back +to Snake Bite. It was that damned song!" muttered Bill, in a +stricken voice. "She says she never realised before she sang it to- +night how hollow New York was. She said it suddenly came over her. +She says she's going to give up her career and go back to her +mother. What the deuce are you twiddling your fingers for?" he broke +off, irritably. + +"Sorry, old man. I was just counting." + +"Counting? Counting what?" + +"Birds, old thing. Only birds!" said Archie. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE WIGMORE VENUS + + +The morning was so brilliantly fine; the populace popped to and fro +in so active and cheery a manner; and everybody appeared to be so +absolutely in the pink, that a casual observer of the city of New +York would have said that it was one of those happy days. Yet Archie +Moffam, as he turned out of the sun-bathed street into the +ramshackle building on the third floor of which was the studio +belonging to his artist friend, James B. Wheeler, was faintly +oppressed with a sort of a kind of feeling that something was wrong. +He would not have gone so far as to say that he had the pip--it was +more a vague sense of discomfort. And, searching for first causes as +he made his way upstairs, he came to the conclusion that the person +responsible for this nebulous depression was his wife, Lucille. It +seemed to Archie that at breakfast that morning Lucille's manner had +been subtly rummy. Nothing you could put your finger on, still-- +rummy. + +Musing thus, he reached the studio, and found the door open and the +room empty. It had the air of a room whose owner has dashed in to +fetch his golf-clubs and biffed off, after the casual fashion of the +artist temperament, without bothering to close up behind him. And +such, indeed, was the case. The studio had seen the last of J. B. +Wheeler for that day: but Archie, not realising this and feeling +that a chat with Mr. Wheeler, who was a light-hearted bird, was what +he needed this morning, sat down to wait. After a few moments, his +gaze, straying over the room, encountered a handsomely framed +picture, and he went across to take a look at it. + +J. B. Wheeler was an artist who made a large annual income as an +illustrator for the magazines, and it was a surprise to Archie to +find that he also went in for this kind of thing. For the picture, +dashingly painted in oils, represented a comfortably plump young +woman who, from her rather weak-minded simper and the fact that she +wore absolutely nothing except a small dove on her left shoulder, +was plainly intended to be the goddess Venus. Archie was not much of +a lad around the picture-galleries, but he knew enough about Art to +recognise Venus when he saw her; though once or twice, it is true, +artists had double-crossed him by ringing in some such title as "Day +Dreams," or "When the Heart is Young." + +He inspected this picture for awhile, then, returning to his seat, +lit a cigarette and began to meditate on Lucille once more. "Yes, +the dear girl had been rummy at breakfast. She had not exactly said +anything or done anything out of the ordinary; but--well, you know +how it is. We husbands, we lads of the for-better-or-for-worse +brigade, we learn to pierce the mask. There had been in Lucille's +manner that curious, strained sweetness which comes to women whose +husbands have failed to match the piece of silk or forgotten to post +an important letter. If his conscience had not been as clear as +crystal, Archie would have said that that was what must have been +the matter. But, when Lucille wrote letters, she just stepped out of +the suite and dropped them in the mail-chute attached to the +elevator. It couldn't be that. And he couldn't have forgotten +anything else, because--" + +"Oh my sainted aunt!" + +Archie's cigarette smouldered, neglected, between his fingers. His +jaw had fallen and his eyes were staring glassily before him. He was +appalled. His memory was weak, he knew; but never before had it let +him down, so scurvily as this. This was a record. It stood in a +class by itself, printed in red ink and marked with a star, as the +bloomer of a lifetime. For a man may forget many things: he may +forget his name, his umbrella, his nationality, his spats, and the +friends of his youth: but there is one thing which your married man, +your in-sickness-and-in-health lizard must not forget: and that is +the anniversary of his wedding-day. + +Remorse swept over Archie like a wave. His heart bled for Lucille. +No wonder the poor girl had been rummy at breakfast. What girl +wouldn't be rummy at breakfast, tied for life to a ghastly outsider +like himself? He groaned hollowly, and sagged forlornly in his +chair: and, as he did so, the Venus caught his eye. For it was an +eye-catching picture. You might like it or dislike it, but you could +not ignore it. + +As a strong swimmer shoots to the surface after a high dive, +Archie's soul rose suddenly from the depths to which it had +descended. He did not often get inspirations, but he got one now. +Hope dawned with a jerk. The one way out had presented itself to +him. A rich present! That was the wheeze. If he returned to her +bearing a rich present, he might, with the help of Heaven and a face +of brass, succeed in making her believe that he had merely pretended +to forget the vital date in order to enhance the surprise. + +It was a scheme. Like some great general forming his plan of +campaign on the eve of battle, Archie had the whole binge neatly +worked out inside a minute. He scribbled a note to Mr. Wheeler, +explaining the situation and promising reasonable payment on the +instalment system; then, placing the note in a conspicuous position +on the easel, he leaped to the telephone: and presently found +himself connected with Lucille's room at the Cosmopolis. + +"Hullo, darling," he cooed. + +There was a slight pause at the other end of the wire. + +"Oh, hullo, Archie!" + +Lucille's voice was dull and listless, and Archie's experienced ear +could detect that she had been crying. He raised his right foot, and +kicked himself indignantly on the left ankle. + +"Many happy returns of the day, old thing!" + +A muffled sob floated over the wire. + +"Have you only just remembered?" said Lucille in a small voice. + +Archie, bracing himself up, cackled gleefully into the receiver. + +"Did I take you in, light of my home? Do you mean to say you really +thought I had forgotten? For Heaven's sake!" + +"You didn't say a word at breakfast." + +"Ah, but that was all part of the devilish cunning. I hadn't got a +present for you then. At least, I didn't know whether it was ready." + +"Oh, Archie, you darling!" Lucille's voice had lost its crushed +melancholy. She trilled like a thrush, or a linnet, or any bird that +goes in largely for trilling. "Have you really got me a present?" + +"It's here now. The dickens of a fruity picture. One of J. B. +Wheeler's things. You'll like it." + +"Oh, I know I shall. I love his work. You are an angel. We'll hang +it over the piano." + +"I'll be round with it in something under three ticks, star of my +soul. I'll take a taxi." + +"Yes, do hurry! I want to hug you!" + +"Right-o!" said Archie. "I'll take two taxis." + +It is not far from Washington Square to the Hotel Cosmopolis, and +Archie made the journey without mishap. There was a little +unpleasantness with the cabman before starting--he, on the prudish +plea that he was a married man with a local reputation to keep up, +declining at first to be seen in company with the masterpiece. But, +on Archie giving a promise to keep the front of the picture away +from the public gaze, he consented to take the job on; and, some ten +minutes later, having made his way blushfully through the hotel +lobby and endured the frank curiosity of the boy who worked the +elevator, Archie entered his suite, the picture under his arm. + +He placed it carefully against the wall in order to leave himself +more scope for embracing Lucille, and when the joyful reunion--or +the sacred scene, if you prefer so to call it, was concluded, he +stepped forward to turn it round and exhibit it. + +"Why, it's enormous," said Lucille. "I didn't know Mr. Wheeler ever +painted pictures that size. When you said it was one of his, I +thought it must be the original of a magazine drawing or something +like--Oh!" + +Archie had moved back and given her an uninterrupted view of the +work of art, and she had started as if some unkindly disposed person +had driven a bradawl into her. + +"Pretty ripe, what?" said Archie enthusiastically. + +Lucille did not speak for a moment. It may have been sudden joy that +kept her silent. Or, on the other hand, it may not. She stood +looking at the picture with wide eyes and parted lips. + +"A bird, eh?" said Archie. + +"Y--yes," said Lucille. + +"I knew you'd like it," proceeded Archie with animation, "You see? +you're by way of being a picture-hound--know all about the things, +and what not--inherit it from the dear old dad, I shouldn't wonder. +Personally, I can't tell one picture from another as a rule, but I'm +bound to say, the moment I set eyes on this, I said to myself 'What +ho!' or words to that effect, I rather think this will add a touch +of distinction to the home, yes, no? I'll hang it up, shall I? +'Phone down to the office, light of my soul, and tell them to send +up a nail, a bit of string,, and the hotel hammer." + +"One moment, darling. I'm not quite sure." + +"Eh?" + +"Where it ought to hang, I mean. You see--" + +"Over the piano, you said. The jolly old piano." + +"Yes, but I hadn't seen it then." + +A monstrous suspicion flitted for an instant into Archie's mind. + +"I say, you do like it, don't you?" he said anxiously. + +"Oh, Archie, darling! Of course I do!-And it was so sweet of you to +give it to me. But, what I was trying to say was that this picture +is so--so striking that I feel that we ought to wait a little while +and decide where it would have the best effect. The light over the +piano is rather strong." + +"You thing it ought to hang in a dimmish light, what?" + +"Yes, yes. The dimmer the--I mean, yes, in a dim light. Suppose we +leave it in the corner for the moment--over there--behind the sofa, +and--and I'll think it over. It wants a lot of thought, you know." + +"Right-o! Here?" + +"Yes, that will do splendidly. Oh, and, Archie." + +"Hullo?" + +"I think perhaps... Just turn its face to the wall, will you?" +Lucille gave a little gulp. "It will prevent it getting dusty." + +It perplexed Archie a little during the next few days to notice in +Lucille, whom he had always looked on as pre-eminently a girl who +knew her own mind, a curious streak of vacillation. Quite half a +dozen times he suggested various spots on the wall as suitable for +the Venus, but Lucille seemed unable to decide. Archie wished that +she would settle on something definite, for he wanted to invite J. +B. Wheeler to the suite to see the thing. He had heard nothing from +the artist since the day he had removed the picture, and one +morning, encountering him on Broadway, he expressed his appreciation +of the very decent manner in which the other had taken the whole +affair. + +"Oh, that!" said J. B. Wheeler. "My dear fellow, you're welcome." He +paused for a moment. "More than welcome," he added. "You aren't much +of an expert on pictures, are you?" + +"Well," said Archie, "I don't know that you'd call me an absolute +nib, don't you know, but of course I know enough to see that this +particular exhibit is not a little fruity. Absolutely one of the +best things you've ever done, laddie." + +A slight purple tinge manifested itself in Mr. Wheeler's round and +rosy face. His eyes bulged. + +"What are you talking about, you Tishbite? You misguided son of +Belial, are you under the impression that _I_ painted that thing?" + +"Didn't you?" + +Mr. Wheeler swallowed a little convulsively. + +"My fiancee painted it," he said shortly. + +"Your fiancee? My dear old lad, I didn't know you were engaged. Who +is she? Do I know her?" + +"Her name is Alice Wigmore. You don't know her." + +"And she painted that picture?" Archie was perturbed. "But, I say! +Won't she be apt to wonder where the thing has got to?" + +"I told her it had been stolen. She thought it a great compliment, +and was tickled to death. So that's all right." + +"And, of course, she'll paint you another." + +"Not while I have my strength she won't," said J. B. Wheeler firmly. +"She's given up painting since I taught her golf, thank goodness, +and my best efforts shall be employed in seeing that she doesn't +have a relapse." + +"But, laddie," said Archie, puzzled, "you talk as though there were +something wrong with the picture. I thought it dashed hot stuff." + +"God bless you!" said J. B. Wheeler. + +Archie proceeded on his way, still mystified. Then he reflected that +artists as a class were all pretty weird and rummy and talked more +or less consistently through their hats. You couldn't ever take an +artist's opinion on a picture. Nine out of ten of them had views on +Art which would have admitted them to any looney-bin, and no +questions asked. He had met several of the species who absolutely +raved over things which any reasonable chappie would decline to be +found dead in a ditch with. His admiration for the Wigmore Venus, +which had faltered for a moment during his conversation with J. B. +Wheeler, returned in all its pristine vigour. Absolute rot, he meant +to say, to try to make out that it wasn't one of the ones and just +like mother used to make. Look how Lucille had liked it! + +At breakfast next morning, Archie once more brought up the question +of the hanging of the picture. It was absurd to let a thing like +that go on wasting its sweetness behind a sofa with its face to the +wall. + +"Touching the jolly old masterpiece," he said, "how about it? I +think it's time we hoisted it up somewhere." + +Lucille fiddled pensively with her coffee-spoon. + +"Archie, dear," she said, "I've been thinking." + +"And a very good thing to do," said Archie. "I've often meant to do +it myself when I got a bit of time." + +"About that picture, I mean. Did you know it was father's birthday +to-morrow?" + +"Why no, old thing, I didn't, to be absolutely honest. Your revered +parent doesn't confide in me much these days, as a matter of fact." + +"Well, it is. And I think we ought to give him a present." + +"Absolutely. But how? I'm all for spreading sweetness and light, and +cheering up the jolly old pater's sorrowful existence, but I haven't +a bean. And, what is more, things have come to such a pass that I +scan the horizon without seeing a single soul I can touch. I suppose +I could get into Reggie van Tuyl's ribs for a bit, but--I don't +know--touching poor old Reggie always seems to me rather like +potting a pitting bird." + +"Of course, I don't want you to do anything like that. I was +thinking--Archie, darling, would you be very hurt if I gave father +the picture?" + +"Oh, I say!" + +"Well, I can't think of anything else." + +"But wouldn't you miss it most frightfully?" + +"Oh, of course I should. But you see--father's birthday--" + +Archie had always thought Lucille the dearest and most unselfish +angel in the world, but never had the fact come home to him so +forcibly as now. He kissed her fondly. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "You really are, you know! This is the +biggest thing since jolly old Sir Philip What's-his-name gave the +drink of water to the poor blighter whose need was greater than his, +if you recall the incident. I had to sweat it up at school, I +remember. Sir Philip, poor old bean, had a most ghastly thirst on, +and he was just going to have one on the house, so to speak, when... +but it's all in the history-books. This is the sort of thing Boy +Scouts do! Well, of course, it's up to you, queen of my soul. If you +feel like making the sacrifice, right-o! Shall I bring the pater up +here and show him the picture?" + +"No, I shouldn't do that. Do you think you could get into his suite +to-morrow morning and hang it up somewhere? You see, if he had the +chance of--what I mean is, if--yes, I think it would be best to hang +it up and let him discover it there." + +"It would give him a surprise, you mean, what?" + +"Yes." + +Lucille sighed inaudibly. She was a girl with a conscience, and that +conscience was troubling her a little. She agreed with Archie that +the discovery of the Wigmore Venus in his artistically furnished +suite would give Mr. Brewster a surprise. Surprise, indeed, was +perhaps an inadequate word. She was sorry for her father, but the +instinct of self-preservation is stronger than any other emotion. + +Archie whistled merrily on the following morning as, having driven a +nail into his father-in-law's wallpaper, he adjusted the cord from +which the Wigmore Venus was suspended. He was a kind-hearted young +man, and, though Mr. Daniel Brewster had on many occasions treated +him with a good deal of austerity, his simple soul was pleased at +the thought of doing him a good turn, He had just completed his work +and was stepping cautiously down, when a voice behind him nearly +caused him to overbalance. + +"What the devil?" + +Archie turned beamingly. + +"Hullo, old thing! Many happy returns of the day!" + +Mr. Brewster was standing in a frozen attitude. His strong face was +slightly flushed. + +"What--what--?" he gurgled. + +Mr. Brewster was not in one of his sunniest moods that morning. The +proprietor of a large hotel has many things to disturb him, and to- +day things had been going wrong. He had come up to his suite with +the idea of restoring his shaken nerve system with a quiet cigar, +and the sight of his son-in-law had, as so frequently happened, made +him feel worse than ever. But, when Archie had descended from the +chair and moved aside to allow him an uninterrupted view of the +picture, Mr. Brewster realised that a worse thing had befallen him +than a mere visit from one who always made him feel that the world +was a bleak place. + +He stared at the Venus dumbly. Unlike most hotel-proprietors, Daniel +Brewster was a connoisseur of Art. Connoisseuring was, in fact, his +hobby. Even the public rooms of the Cosmopolis were decorated with +taste, and his own private suite was a shrine of all that was best +and most artistic. His tastes were quiet and restrained, and it is +not too much to say that the Wigmore Venus hit him behind the ear +like a stuffed eel-skin. + +So great was the shock that for some moments it kept him silent, and +before he could recover speech Archie had explained. + +"It's a birthday present from Lucille, don't you know," + +Mr. Brewster crushed down the breezy speech he had intended to +utter. + +"Lucille gave me--that?" he muttered. + +He swallowed pathetically. He was suffering, but the iron courage of +the Brewsters stood him in good stead. This man was no weakling. +Presently the rigidity of his face relaxed. He was himself again. Of +all things in the world he loved his daughter most, and if, in +whoever mood of temporary insanity, she had brought herself to +suppose that this beastly daub was the sort of thing he would like +for a birthday present, he must accept the situation like a man. He +would on the whole have preferred death to a life lived in the +society of the Wigmore Venus, but even that torment must be endured +if the alternative was the hurting of Lucille's feelings. + +"I think I've chosen a pretty likely spot to hang the thing, what?" +said Archie cheerfully. "It looks well alongside those Japanese +prints, don't you think? Sort of stands out." + +Mr. Brewster licked his dry lips and grinned a ghastly grin. + +"It does stand out!" he agreed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A TALE OF A GRANDFATHER + + +Archie was not a man who readily allowed himself to become worried, +especially about people who were not in his own immediate circle of +friends, but in the course of the next week he was bound to admit +that he was not altogether easy in his mind about his father-in- +law's mental condition. He had read all sorts of things in the +Sunday papers and elsewhere about the constant strain to which +captains of industry are subjected, a strain which sooner or later +is only too apt to make the victim go all blooey, and it seemed to +him that Mr. Brewster was beginning to find the going a trifle too +tough for his stamina. Undeniably he was behaving in an odd manner, +and Archie, though no physician, was aware that, when the American +business-man, that restless, ever-active human machine, starts +behaving in an odd manner, the next thing yon know is that two +strong men, one attached to each arm, are hurrying him into the cab +bound for Bloomingdale. + +He did not confide his misgivings to Lucille, not wishing to cause +her anxiety. He hunted up Reggie van Tuyl at the club, and sought +advice from him. + +"I say, Reggie, old thing--present company excepted--have there been +any loonies in your family?" + +Reggie stirred in the slumber which always gripped him in the early +afternoon. + +"Loonies?" he mumbled, sleepily. "Rather! My uncle Edgar thought he +was twins." + +"Twins, eh?" + +"Yes. Silly idea! I mean, you'd have thought one of my uncle Edgar +would have been enough for any man." + +"How did the thing start?" asked Archie. + +"Start? Well, the first thing we noticed was when he began wanting +two of everything. Had to set two places for him at dinner and so +on. Always wanted two seats at the theatre. Ran into money, I can +tell you." + +"He didn't behave rummily up till then? I mean to say, wasn't sort +of jumpy and all that?" + +"Not that I remember. Why?" + +Archie's tone became grave. + +"Well, I'll tell you, old man, though I don't want it to go any +farther, that I'm a bit worried about my jolly old father-in-law. I +believe he's about to go in off the deep-end. I think he's cracking +under the strain. Dashed weird his behaviour has been the last few +days." + +"Such as?" murmured Mr. van Tuyl. + +"Well, the other morning I happened to be in his suite--incidentally +he wouldn't go above ten dollars, and I wanted twenty-five-and he +suddenly picked up a whacking big paper-weight and bunged it for all +he was worth." + +"At you?" + +"Not at me. That was the rummy part of it. At a mosquito on the +wall, he said. Well, I mean to say, do chappies bung paper-weights +at mosquitoes? I mean, is it done?" + +"Smash anything?" + +"Curiously enough, no. But he only just missed a rather decent +picture which Lucille had given him for his birthday. Another foot +to the left and it would have been a goner." + +"Sounds queer." + +"And, talking of that picture, I looked in on him about a couple of +afternoons later, and he'd taken it down from the wall and laid it +on the floor and was staring at it in a dashed marked sort of +manner. That was peculiar, what?" + +"On the floor?" + +"On the jolly old carpet. When I came in, he was goggling at it in a +sort of glassy way. Absolutely rapt, don't you know. My coming in +gave him a start--seemed to rouse him from a kind of trance, you +know--and he jumped like an antelope; and, if I hadn't happened to +grab him, he would have trampled bang on the thing. It was deuced +unpleasant, you know. His manner was rummy. He seemed to be brooding +on something. What ought I to do about it, do you think? It's not my +affair, of course, but it seams to me that, if he goes on like this, +one of these days he'll be stabbing, someone with a pickle-fork." + +To Archie's relief, his father-in-law's symptoms showed no signs of +development. In fact, his manner reverted to the normal once more, +and a few days later, meeting Archie in the lobby of the hotel, he +seemed quite cheerful. It was not often that he wasted his time +talking to his son-in-law, but on this occasion he chatted with him +for several minutes about the big picture-robbery which had formed +the chief item of news on the front pages of the morning papers that +day. It was Mr. Brewster's opinion that the outrage had been the +work of a gang and that nobody was safe. + +Daniel Brewster had spoken of this matter with strange earnestness, +but his words had slipped from Archie's mind when he made his way +that night to his father-in-law's suite. Archie was in an exalted +mood. In the course of dinner he had had a bit of good news which +was occupying his thoughts to the exclusion of all other matters. It +had left him in a comfortable, if rather dizzy, condition of +benevolence to all created things. He had smiled at the room-clerk +as he crossed the lobby, and if he had had a dollar, he would have +given it to the boy who took him up in the elevator. + +He found the door of the Brewster suite unlocked which at any other +time would have struck him as unusual; but to-night he was in no +frame of mind to notice these trivialities. He went in, and, finding +the room dark and no one at home, sat down, too absorbed in his +thoughts to switch on the lights, and gave himself up to dreamy +meditation. + +There are certain moods in which one loses count of time, and Archie +could not have said how long he had been sitting in the deep arm- +chair near the window when he first became aware that he was not +alone in the room. He had closed his eyes, the better to meditate, +so had not seen anyone enter. Nor had he heard the door open. The +first intimation he had that somebody had come in was when some hard +substance knocked against some other hard object, producing a sharp +sound which brought him back to earth with a jerk. + +He sat up silently. The fact that the room was still in darkness +made it obvious that something nefarious was afoot. Plainly there +was dirty work in preparation at the cross-roads. He stared into the +blackness, and, as his eyes grew accustomed to it, was presently +able to see an indistinct form bending over something on the floor. +The sound of rather stertorous breathing came to him. + +Archie had many defects which prevented him being the perfect man, +but lack of courage was not one of them. His somewhat rudimentary +intelligence had occasionally led his superior officers during the +war to thank God that Great Britain had a Navy, but even these stern +critics had found nothing to complain of in the manner in which he +bounded over the top. Some of us are thinkers, others men of action. +Archie was a man of action, and he was out of his chair and sailing +in the direction of the back of the intruder's neck before a wiser +man would have completed his plan of campaign. The miscreant +collapsed under him with a squashy sound, like the wind going out of +a pair of bellows, and Archie, taking a firm seat on his spine, +rubbed the other's face in the carpet and awaited the progress of +events. + +At the end of half a minute it became apparent that there was going +to be no counter-attack. The dashing swiftness of the assault had +apparently had the effect of depriving the marauder of his entire +stock of breath. He was gurgling to himself in a pained sort of way +and making no effort to rise. Archie, feeling that it would be safe +to get up and switch on the light, did so, and, turning after +completing this manoeuvre, was greeted by the spectacle of his +father-in-law, seated on the floor in a breathless and dishevelled +condition, blinking at the sudden illumination. On the carpet beside +Mr. Brewster lay a long knife, and beside the knife lay the +handsomely framed masterpiece of J. B. Wheeler's fiancee, Miss Alice +Wigmore. Archie stared at this collection dumbly. + +"Oh, what-ho!" he observed at length, feebly. + +A distinct chill manifested itself in the region of Archie's spine. +This could mean only one thing. His fears had been realised. The +strain of modern life, with all its hustle and excitement, had at +last proved too much for Mr. Brewster. Crushed by the thousand and +one anxieties and worries of a millionaire's existence, Daniel +Brewster had gone off his onion. + +Archie was nonplussed. This was his first experience of this kind of +thing. What, he asked himself, was the proper procedure in a +situation of this sort? What was the local rule? Where, in a word, +did he go from here? He was still musing in an embarrassed and +baffled way, having taken the precaution of kicking the knife under +the sofa, when Mr. Brewster spoke. And there was in, both the words +and the method of their delivery so much of his old familiar self +that Archie felt quite relieved. + +"So it's you, is it, you wretched blight, you miserable weed!" said +Mr. Brewster, having recovered enough breath to be going on with. He +glowered at his son-in-law despondently. "I might have, expected it! +If I was at the North Pole, I could count on you butting in!" + +"Shall I get you a drink of water?" said Archie. + +"What the devil," demanded Mr. Brewster, "do you imagine I want with +a drink of water?" + +"Well--" Archie hesitated delicately. "I had a sort of idea that you +had been feeling the strain a bit. I mean to say, rush of modern +life and all that sort of thing--" + +"What are you doing in my room?" said Mr. Brewster, changing the +subject. + +"Well, I came to tell you something, and I came in here and was +waiting for you, and I saw some chappie biffing about in the dark, +and I thought it was a burglar or something after some of your +things, so, thinking it over, I got the idea that it would be a +fairly juicy scheme to land on him with both feet. No idea it was +you, old thing! Frightfully sorry and all that. Meant well!" + +Mr. Brewster sighed deeply. He was a just man, and he could not but +realise that, in the circumstances, Archie had behaved not +unnaturally. + +"Oh, well!" he said. "I might have known something would go wrong." + +"Awfully sorry!" + +"It can't be helped. What was it you wanted to tell me?" He eyed his +son-in-law piercingly. "Not a cent over twenty dollars!" he said +coldly. + +Archie hastened to dispel the pardonable error. + +"Oh, it wasn't anything like that," he said. "As a matter of fact, I +think it's a good egg. It has bucked me up to no inconsiderable +degree. I was dining with Lucille just now, and, as we dallied with +the food-stuffs, she told me something which--well, I'm bound to +say, it made me feel considerably braced. She told me to trot along +and ask you if you would mind--" + +"I gave Lucille a hundred dollars only last Tuesday." + +Archie was pained. + +"Adjust this sordid outlook, old thing!" he urged. "You simply +aren't anywhere near it. Right off the target, absolutely! What +Lucille told me to ask you was if you would mind--at some tolerably +near date--being a grandfather! Rotten thing to be, of course," +proceeded Archie commiseratingly, "for a chappie of your age, but +there it is!" + +Mr. Brewster gulped. + +"Do you mean to say--?" + +"I mean, apt to make a fellow feel a bit of a patriarch. Snowy hair +and what not. And, of course, for a chappie in the prime of life +like you--" + +"Do you mean to tell me--? Is this true?" + +"Absolutely! Of course, speaking for myself, I'm all for it. I don't +know when I've felt more bucked. I sang as I came up here-- +absolutely warbled in the elevator. But you--" + +A curious change had come over Mr. Brewster. He was one of those men +who have the appearance of having been hewn out of the solid rock, +but now in some indescribable way he seemed to have melted. For a +moment he gazed at Archie, then, moving quickly forward, he grasped +his hand in an iron grip. + +"This is the best news I've ever had!" he mumbled. + +"Awfully good of you to take it like this," said Archie cordially. +"I mean, being a grandfather--" + +Mr. Brewster smiled. Of a man of his appearance one could hardly say +that he smiled playfully; but there was something in his expression +that remotely suggested playfulness. + +"My dear old bean," he said. + +Archie started. + +"My dear old bean," repeated Mr. Brewster firmly, "I'm the happiest +man in America!" His eye fell on the picture which lay on the floor. +He gave a slight shudder, but recovered himself immediately. "After +this," he said, "I can reconcile myself to living with that thing +for the rest of my life. I feel it doesn't matter." + +"I say," said Archie, "how about that? Wouldn't have brought the +thing up if you hadn't introduced the topic, but, speaking as man to +man, what the dickens WERE you up to when I landed on your spine +just now?" + +"I suppose you thought I had gone off my head?" + +"Well, I'm bound to say--" + +Mr. Brewster cast an unfriendly glance at the picture. + +"Well, I had every excuse, after living with that infernal thing for +a week!" + +Archie looked at him, astonished. + +"I say, old thing, I don't know if I have got your meaning exactly, +but you somehow give me the impression that you don't like that +jolly old work of Art." + +"Like it!" cried Mr. Brewster. "It's nearly driven me mad! Every +time it caught my eye, it gave me a pain in the neck. To-night I +felt as if I couldn't stand it any longer. I didn't want to hurt +Lucille's feelings, by telling her, so I made up my mind I would cut +the damned thing out of its frame and tell her it had been stolen." + +"What an extraordinary thing! Why, that's exactly what old Wheeler +did." + +"Who is old Wheeler?" + +"Artist chappie. Pal of mine. His fiancee painted the thing, and, +when I lifted it off him, he told her it had been stolen. HE didn't +seem frightfully keen on it, either." + +"Your friend Wheeler has evidently good taste." + +Archie was thinking. + +"Well, all this rather gets past me," he said. "Personally, I've +always admired the thing. Dashed ripe bit of work, I've always +considered. Still, of course, if you feel that way--" + +"You may take it from me that I do!" + +"Well, then, in that case--You know what a clumsy devil I am--You +can tell Lucille it was all my fault--" + +The Wigmore Venus smiled up at Archie--it seemed to Archie with a +pathetic, pleading smile. For a moment he was conscious of a feeling +of guilt; then, closing his eyes and hardening his heart, he sprang +lightly in the air and descended with both feet on the picture. +There was a sound of rending canvas, and the Venus ceased to smile. + +"Golly!" said Archie, regarding the wreckage remorsefully. + +Mr. Brewster did not share his remorse. For the second time that +night he gripped him by the hand. + +"My boy!" he quavered. He stared at Archie as if he were seeing him +with new eyes. "My dear boy, you were through the war, were you +not?" + +"Eh? Oh yes! Right through the jolly old war." + +"What was your rank?" + +"Oh, second lieutenant." + +"You ought to have been a general!" Mr. Brewster clasped his hand +once more in a vigorous embrace. "I only hope," he added "that your +son will be like you!" + +There are certain compliments, or compliments coming from certain +sources, before which modesty reels, stunned. Archie's did. + +He swallowed convulsively. He had never thought to hear these words +from Daniel Brewster. + +"How would it be, old thing," he said almost brokenly, "if you and I +trickled down to the bar and had a spot of sherbet?" + +THE END + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Indiscretions of Archie +by P. G. Wodehouse + |