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-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***

-

-

-

-

-

-                           MONEY FOR NOTHING

-

-                          BY P. G. WODEHOUSE

-

-                         GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK

-                   DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & COMPANY, INC.

-                                 1928

-

-                           COPYRIGHT, 1928,

-                          BY P. G. WODEHOUSE

-                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-                    PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT

-                        THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS,

-                          GARDEN CITY, N. Y.

-

-                             FIRST EDITION

-

-

-

-

-                           MONEY FOR NOTHING

-

-

-

-

-                               CHAPTER I

-

-

-                                   I

-

-The picturesque village of Rudge-in-the-Vale dozed in the summer

-sunshine. Along its narrow High Street the only signs of life visible

-were a cat stropping its backbone against the Jubilee Watering Trough,

-some flies doing deep-breathing exercises on the hot window sills, and

-a little group of serious thinkers who, propped up against the wall of

-the Carmody Arms, were waiting for that establishment to open. At no

-time is there ever much doing in Rudge's main thoroughfare, but the

-hour at which a stranger, entering it, is least likely to suffer the

-illusion that he has strayed into Broadway, Piccadilly, or the Rue de

-Rivoli is at two o'clock on a warm afternoon in July.

-

-You will find Rudge-in-the-Vale, if you search carefully, in

-that pleasant section of rural England where the gray stone of

-Gloucestershire gives place to Worcestershire's old red brick. Quiet,

-in fact, almost unconscious, it nestles beside the tiny river Skirme

-and lets the world go by, somnolently content with its Norman church,

-its eleven public-houses, its Pop.--to quote the Automobile Guide--of

-3,541, and its only effort in the direction of modern progress, the

-emporium of Chas. Bywater, Chemist.

-

-Chas. Bywater is a live wire. He takes no afternoon siesta, but works

-while others sleep. Rudge as a whole is inclined after luncheon to go

-into the back room, put a handkerchief over its face and take things

-easy for a bit. But not Chas. Bywater. At the moment at which this

-story begins he was all bustle and activity, and had just finished

-selling to Colonel Meredith Wyvern a bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir (said to be good for gnat bites).

-

-Having concluded his purchase, Colonel Wyvern would have preferred

-to leave, but Mr. Bywater was a man who liked to sweeten trade with

-pleasant conversation. Moreover, this was the first time the Colonel

-had been inside his shop since that sensational affair up at the Hall

-two weeks ago, and Chas. Bywater, who held the unofficial position of

-chief gossip monger to the village, was aching to get to the bottom of

-that.

-

-With the bare outline of the story he was, of course, familiar. Rudge

-Hall, seat of the Carmody family for so many generations, contained in

-its fine old park a number of trees which had been planted somewhere

-about the reign of Queen Elizabeth. This meant that every now and

-then one of them would be found to have become a wobbly menace to the

-passer-by, so that experts had to be sent for to reduce it with a

-charge of dynamite to a harmless stump. Well, two weeks ago, it seems,

-they had blown up one of the Hall's Elizabethan oaks and as near as a

-toucher, Rudge learned, had blown up Colonel Wyvern and Mr. Carmody

-with it. The two friends had come walking by just as the expert set

-fire to the train and had had a very narrow escape.

-

-Thus far the story was common property in the village, and had been

-discussed nightly in the eleven tap-rooms of its eleven public-houses.

-But Chas. Bywater, with his trained nose for news and that sixth sense

-which had so often enabled him to ferret out the story behind the story

-when things happen in the upper world of the nobility and gentry, could

-not help feeling that there was more in it than this. He decided to

-give his customer the opportunity of confiding in him.

-

-"Warm day, Colonel," he observed.

-

-"Ur," grunted Colonel Wyvern.

-

-"Glass going up, I see."

-

-"Ur."

-

-"May be in for a spell of fine weather at last."

-

-"Ur."

-

-"Glad to see you looking so well, Colonel, after your little accident,"

-said Chas. Bywater, coming out into the open.

-

-It had been Colonel Wyvern's intention, for he was a man of testy

-habit, to enquire of Mr. Bywater why the devil he couldn't wrap a

-bottle of Brophy's Elixir in brown paper and put a bit of string round

-it without taking the whole afternoon over the task: but at these words

-he abandoned this project. Turning a bright mauve and allowing his

-luxuriant eyebrows to meet across the top of his nose, he subjected the

-other to a fearful glare.

-

-"Little accident?" he said. "Little accident?"

-

-"I was alluding----"

-

-"Little accident!"

-

-"I merely----"

-

-"If by little accident," said Colonel Wyvern in a thick, throaty voice,

-"you mean my miraculous escape from death when that fat thug up at the

-Hall did his very best to murder me, I should be obliged if you would

-choose your expressions more carefully. Little accident! Good God!"

-

-Few things in this world are more painful than the realization that an

-estrangement has occurred between two old friends who for years have

-jogged amiably along together through life, sharing each other's joys

-and sorrows and holding the same views on religion, politics, cigars,

-wine, and the Decadence of the Younger Generation: and Mr. Bywater's

-reaction, on hearing Colonel Wyvern describe Mr. Lester Carmody, of

-Rudge Hall, until two short weeks ago his closest crony, as a fat thug,

-should have been one of sober sadness. Such, however, was not the

-case. Rather was he filled with an unholy exultation. All along he had

-maintained that there was more in that Hall business than had become

-officially known, and he stood there with his ears flapping, waiting

-for details.

-

-These followed immediately and in great profusion: and Mr. Bywater, as

-he drank them in, began to realize that his companion had certain solid

-grounds for feeling a little annoyed. For when, as Colonel Wyvern very

-sensibly argued, you have been a man's friend for twenty years and are

-walking with him in his park and hear warning shouts and look up and

-realize that a charge of dynamite is shortly about to go off in your

-immediate neighbourhood, you expect a man who is a man to be a man. You

-do not expect him to grab you round the waist and thrust you swiftly

-in between himself and the point of danger, so that, when the explosion

-takes place, you get the full force of it and he escapes without so

-much as a singed eyebrow.

-

-"Quite," said Mr. Bywater, hitching up his ears another inch.

-

-Colonel Wyvern continued. Whether, if in a condition to give the matter

-careful thought, he would have selected Chas. Bywater as a confidant,

-one cannot say. But he was not in such a condition. The stoppered

-bottle does not care whose is the hand that removes its cork--all

-it wants is the chance to fizz: and Colonel Wyvern resembled such a

-bottle. Owing to the absence from home of his daughter, Patricia, he

-had had no one handy to act as audience for his grievances, and for two

-weeks he had been suffering torments. He told Chas. Bywater all.

-

-It was a very vivid picture that he conjured up. Mr. Bywater could see

-the whole thing as clearly as if he had been present in person--from

-the blasting gang's first horrified realization that human beings

-had wandered into the danger zone to the almost tenser moment when,

-running up to sort out the tangled heap on the ground, they had

-observed Colonel Wyvern rise from his seat on Mr. Carmody's face and

-had heard him start to tell that gentleman precisely what he thought

-of him. Privately, Mr. Bywater considered that Mr. Carmody had acted

-with extraordinary presence of mind, and had given the lie to the

-theory, held by certain critics, that the landed gentry of England are

-deficient in intelligence. But his sympathies were, of course, with

-the injured man. He felt that Colonel Wyvern had been hardly treated,

-and was quite right to be indignant about it. As to whether the other

-was justified in alluding to his former friend as a jelly-bellied

-hell-hound, that was a matter for his own conscience to decide.

-

-"I'm suing him," concluded Colonel Wyvern, regarding an advertisement

-of Pringle's Pink Pills with a smouldering eye.

-

-"Quite."

-

-"The only thing in the world that super-fatted old Blackhander cares

-for is money, and I'll have his last penny out of him, if I have to

-take the case to the House of Lords."

-

-"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.

-

-"I might have been killed. It was a miracle I wasn't. Five thousand

-pounds is the lowest figure any conscientious jury could put the

-damages at. And, if there were any justice in England, they'd ship the

-scoundrel off to pick oakum in a prison cell."

-

-Mr. Bywater made noncommittal noises. Both parties to this unfortunate

-affair were steady customers of his, and he did not wish to alienate

-either by taking sides. He hoped the Colonel was not going to ask him

-for his opinion of the rights of the case.

-

-Colonel Wyvern did not. Having relieved himself with some six minutes

-of continuous speech, he seemed to have become aware that he had

-bestowed his confidences a little injudiciously. He coughed and changed

-the subject.

-

-"Where's that stuff?" he said. "Good God! Isn't it ready yet? Why does

-it take you fellows three hours to tie a knot in a piece of string?"

-

-"Quite ready, Colonel," said Chas. Bywater hastily. "Here it is. I have

-put a little loop for the finger, to facilitate carrying."

-

-"Is this stuff really any good?"

-

-"Said to be excellent, Colonel. Thank you, Colonel. Much obliged,

-Colonel. Good day, Colonel."

-

-Still fermenting at the recollection of his wrongs, Colonel Wyvern

-strode to the door: and, pushing it open with extreme violence, left

-the shop.

-

-The next moment the peace of the drowsy summer afternoon was shattered

-by a hideous uproar. Much of this consisted of a high, passionate

-barking, the remainder being contributed by the voice of a retired

-military man, raised in anger. Chas. Bywater blenched, and, reaching

-out a hand toward an upper shelf, brought down, in the order named,

-a bundle of lint, a bottle of arnica, and one of the half-crown (or

-large) size pots of Sooth-o, the recognized specific for cuts, burns,

-scratches, nettle stings, and dog bites. He believed in Preparedness.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-While Colonel Wyvern had been pouring his troubles into the twitching

-ear of Chas. Bywater, there had entered the High Street a young man in

-golf clothes and Old Rugbian tie. This was John Carroll, nephew of Mr.

-Carmody, of the Hall. He had walked down to the village, accompanied

-by his dog Emily, to buy tobacco, and his objective, therefore, was

-the same many-sided establishment which was supplying the Colonel with

-Brophy's Elixir.

-

-For do not be deceived by that "Chemist" after Mr. Bywater's name. It

-is mere modesty. Some whim leads this great man to describe himself as

-a chemist, but in reality he goes much deeper than that. Chas. is the

-Marshall Field of Rudge, and deals in everything, from crystal sets to

-mousetraps. There are several places in the village where you can get

-stuff they call tobacco, but it cannot be considered in the light of

-pipe-joy for the discriminating smoker. To obtain something that will

-leave a little skin on the roof of the mouth you must go to Mr. Bywater.

-

-John came up the High Street with slow, meditative strides, a large

-and muscular young man whose pleasant features betrayed at the

-moment an inward gloom. What with being hopelessly in love and one

-thing and another, his soul was in rather a bruised condition these

-days, and he found himself deriving from the afternoon placidity of

-Rudge-in-the-Vale a certain balm and consolation. He had sunk into a

-dreamy trance when he was abruptly aroused by the horrible noise which

-had so shaken Chas. Bywater.

-

-The causes which had brought about this disturbance were simple and

-are easily explained. It was the custom of the dog Emily, on the

-occasions when John brought her to Rudge to help him buy tobacco,

-to yield to an uncontrollable eagerness and gallop on ahead to Mr.

-Bywater's shop--where, with her nose wedged against the door, she would

-stand, sniffing emotionally, till somebody came and opened it. She

-had a morbid passion for cough drops, and experience had taught her

-that by sitting and ogling Mr. Bywater with her liquid amber eyes she

-could generally secure two or three. To-day, hurrying on as usual, she

-had just reached the door and begun to sniff when it suddenly opened

-and hit her sharply on the nose. And, as she shot back with a yelp of

-agony, out came Colonel Wyvern carrying his bottle of Brophy.

-

-There is an etiquette in these matters on which all right-minded dogs

-insist. When people trod on Emily, she expected them immediately to

-fuss over her, and the same procedure seemed to her to be in order when

-they hit her on the nose with doors. Waiting expectantly, therefore,

-for Colonel Wyvern to do the square thing, she was stunned to find that

-he apparently had no intention of even apologizing. He was brushing

-past without a word, and all the woman in Emily rose in revolt against

-such boorishness.

-

-"Just a minute!" she said dangerously. "Just one minute, if you please.

-Not so fast, my good man. A word with you, if I may trespass upon your

-valuable time."

-

-The Colonel, chafing beneath the weight of his wrongs, perceived that

-they had been added to by a beast of a hairy dog that stood and yapped

-at him.

-

-"Get out!" he bellowed.

-

-Emily became hysterical.

-

-"Indeed?" she said shrilly. "And who do you think you are, you poor

-clumsy Robot? You come hitting ladies on the nose as if you were the

-King of England, and as if that wasn't enough...."

-

-"Go away, sir."

-

-"Who the devil are you calling Sir?" Emily had the Twentieth Century

-girl's freedom of speech and breadth of vocabulary. "It's people like

-you that cause all this modern unrest and industrial strife. I know

-your sort well. Robbers and oppressors. And let me tell you another

-thing...."

-

-At this point the Colonel very injudiciously aimed a kick at Emily.

-

-It was not much of a kick, and it came nowhere near her, but it

-sufficed. Realizing the futility of words, Emily decided on action. And

-it was just as she had got a preliminary grip on the Colonel's left

-trouser leg that John arrived at the Front.

-

-"Emily!!!" roared John, shocked to the core of his being.

-

-He had excellent lungs, and he used them to the last ounce of their

-power. A young man who sees the father of the girl he loves being

-swallowed alive by a Welsh terrier does not spare his voice. The

-word came out of him like the note of the Last Trump, and Colonel

-Wyvern, leaping spasmodically, dropped his bottle of Brophy. It fell

-on the pavement and exploded, and Emily, who could do her bit in a

-rough-and-tumble but barred bombs, tucked her tail between her legs

-and vanished. A faint, sleepy cheering from outside the Carmody Arms

-announced that she had passed that home from home and was going well.

-

-John continued to be agitated. You would not have supposed, to look

-at Colonel Wyvern, that he could have had an attractive daughter, but

-such was the case, and John's manner was as concerned and ingratiating

-as that of most young men in the presence of the fathers of attractive

-daughters.

-

-"I'm so sorry, Colonel. I do hope you're not hurt, Colonel."

-

-The injured man, maintaining an icy silence, raked him with an eye

-before which sergeant-majors had once drooped like withered roses, and

-walked into the shop. The anxious face of Chas. Bywater loomed up over

-the counter. John hovered in the background. "I want another bottle of

-that stuff," said the Colonel shortly.

-

-"I'm awfully sorry," said John.

-

-"I dropped the other outside. I was attacked by a savage dog."

-

-"I'm frightfully sorry."

-

-"People ought not to have these pests running loose and not under

-proper control."

-

-"I'm fearfully sorry."

-

-"A menace to the community and a nuisance to everybody," said Colonel

-Wyvern.

-

-"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.

-

-Conversation languished. Chas. Bywater, realizing that this was no

-moment for lingering lovingly over brown paper and toying dreamily with

-string, lowered the record for wrapping a bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir by such a margin that he set up a mark for other chemists to

-shoot at for all time. Colonel Wyvern snatched it and stalked out,

-and John, who had opened the door for him and had not been thanked,

-tottered back to the counter and in a low voice expressed a wish for

-two ounces of the Special Mixture.

-

-"Quite," said Mr. Bywater. "In one moment, Mr. John."

-

-With the passing of Colonel Wyvern a cloud seemed to have rolled

-away from the chemist's world. He was his old, charmingly chatty self

-again. He gave John his tobacco, and, detaining him by the simple means

-of not handing over his change, surrendered himself to the joys of

-conversation.

-

-"The Colonel appears a little upset, sir."

-

-"Have you got my change?" said John.

-

-"It seems to me he hasn't been the same man since that unfortunate

-episode up at the Hall. Not at all the same sunny gentleman."

-

-"Have you got my change?"

-

-"A very unfortunate episode, that," sighed Mr. Bywater.

-

-"My change?"

-

-"I could see, the moment he walked in here, that he was not himself.

-Shaken. Something in the way he looked at one. I said to myself 'The

-Colonel's shaken!'"

-

-John, who had had such recent experience of the way Colonel Wyvern

-looked at one, agreed. He then asked if he might have his change.

-

-"No doubt he misses Miss Wyvern," said Chas. Bywater, ignoring the

-request with an indulgent smile. "When a man's had a shock like the

-Colonel's had--when he's shaken, if you understand what I mean--he

-likes to have his loved ones around him. Stands to reason," said Mr.

-Bywater.

-

-John had been anxious to leave, but he was so constituted that he could

-not tear himself away from anyone who had touched on the subject of

-Patricia Wyvern. He edged a little nearer the counter.

-

-"Well, she'll be home again soon," said Chas. Bywater. "To-morrow, I

-understand."

-

-A powerful current of electricity seemed to pass itself through John's

-body. Pat Wyvern had been away so long that he had fallen into a sort

-of dull apathy in which he wondered sometimes if he would ever see her

-again.

-

-"What!"

-

-"Yes, sir. She returned from France yesterday. She had a good crossing.

-She is at the Lincoln Hotel, Curzon Street, London. She thinks of

-taking the three-o'clock train to-morrow. She is in excellent health."

-

-It did not occur to John to question the accuracy of the other's

-information, nor to be surprised at its minuteness of detail. Mr.

-Bywater, he was aware, had a daughter in the post office.

-

-"To-morrow!" he gasped.

-

-"Yes, sir. To-morrow."

-

-"Give me my change," said John.

-

-He yearned to be off. He wanted air and space in which he could ponder

-over this wonderful news.

-

-"No doubt," said Mr. Bywater, "she...."

-

-"Give me my change," said John.

-

-Chas. Bywater, happening to catch his eye, did so.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-To reach Rudge Hall from the door of Chas. Bywater's shop, you go up

-the High Street, turn sharp to the left down River Lane, cross the

-stone bridge that spans the slow-flowing Skirme as it potters past on

-its way to join the Severn, carry on along the road till you come to

-the gates of Colonel Wyvern's nice little house, and then climb a stile

-and take to the fields. And presently you are in the park and can see

-through the trees the tall chimneys and red walls of the ancient home

-of the Carmodys.

-

-The scene, when they are not touching off dynamite there under the

-noses of retired military officers, is one of quiet peace. For John

-it had always held a peculiar magic. In the fourteen years which had

-passed since the Wyverns had first come to settle in Rudge Pat had

-contrived, so far as he was concerned, to impress her personality

-ineffaceably on the landscape. Almost every inch of it was in some

-way associated with her. Stumps on which she had sat and swung her

-brown-stockinged legs; trees beneath which she had taken shelter with

-him from summer storms; gates on which she had climbed, fields across

-which she had raced, and thorny bushes into which she had urged him to

-penetrate in search of birds' eggs--they met his eye on every side.

-The very air seemed to be alive with her laughter. And not even the

-recollection that that laughter had generally been directed at himself

-was able to diminish for John the glamour of this mile of Fairyland.

-

-Half-way across the park, Emily rejoined him with a defensive,

-Where-on-earth-did-you-disappear-to manner, and they moved on in

-company till they rounded the corner of the house and came to the

-stable yard. John had a couple of rooms over the stables, and thither

-he made his way, leaving Emily to fuss round Bolt, the chauffeur, who

-was washing the Dex-Mayo.

-

-Arrived in his sitting room, he sank into a deck chair and filled his

-pipe with Mr. Bywater's Special Mixture. Then, putting his feet up on

-the table, he stared hard and earnestly at the photograph of Pat which

-stood on the mantelpiece.

-

-It was a pretty face that he was looking at--one whose charm not even

-a fashionable modern photographer, of the type that prefers to depict

-his sitters in a gray fog with most of their features hidden from

-view, could altogether obscure. In the eyes, a little slanting, there

-was a Puck-like look, and the curving lips hinted demurely at amusing

-secrets. The nose had that appealing, yet provocative, air which slight

-tip-tiltedness gives. It seemed to challenge, and at the same time to

-withdraw.

-

-This was the latest of the Pat photographs, and she had given it to him

-three months ago, just before she left to go and stay with friends at

-Le Touquet. And now she was coming home....

-

-John Carroll was one of those solid persons who do not waver in their

-loyalties. He had always been in love with Pat, and he always would

-be, though he would have had to admit that she gave him very little

-encouragement. There had been a period when, he being fifteen and she

-ten, Pat had lavished on him all the worship of a small girl for a big

-boy who can wiggle his ears and is not afraid of cows. But since then

-her attitude had changed. Her manner toward him nowadays alternated

-between that of a nurse toward a child who is not quite right in the

-head and that of the owner of a clumsy but rather likable dog.

-

-Nevertheless, he loved her. And she was coming home....

-

-John sat up suddenly. He was a slow thinker, and only now did it occur

-to him just what the position of affairs would be when she did come

-home. With this infernal feud going on between his uncle Lester and

-the old Colonel she would probably look on him as in the enemy's camp

-and refuse to see or speak to him.

-

-The thought chilled him to the marrow. Something, he felt, must be

-done, and swiftly. And, with a flash of inspiration of a kind that

-rarely came to him, he saw what that something was. He must go up

-to London this afternoon, tell her the facts, and throw himself on

-her clemency. If he could convince her that he was whole-heartedly

-pro-Colonel and regarded his uncle Lester as the logical successor

-to Doctor Crippen and the Brides-in-the-Bath murderer, things might

-straighten themselves.

-

-Once the brain gets working, there is no knowing where it will stop.

-The very next instant there had come to John Carroll a thought so new

-and breathtaking that he uttered an audible gasp.

-

-Why shouldn't he ask Pat to marry him?

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-John sat tingling from head to foot. The scales seemed to have fallen

-from his eyes, and he saw clearly where he might quite conceivably have

-been making a grave blunder all these years. Deeply as he had always

-loved Pat, he had never--now he came to think of it--told her so. And

-in this sort of situation the spoken word is quite apt to make all the

-difference.

-

-Perhaps that was why she laughed at him so frequently--because she was

-entertained by the spectacle of a man, obviously in love with her,

-refraining year after year from making any verbal comment on the state

-of his emotions.

-

-Resolution poured over John in a strengthening flood. He looked at

-his watch. It was nearly three. If he got the two-seater and started

-at once, he could be in London by seven, in nice time to take her to

-dinner somewhere. He hurried down the stairs and out into the stable

-yard.

-

-"Shove that car out of the way, Bolt," said John, eluding Emily, who,

-wet to the last hair, was endeavouring to climb up him. "I want to get

-the two-seater."

-

-"Two-seater, sir?"

-

-"Yes. I'm going to London."

-

-"It's not there, Mr. John," said the chauffeur, with the gloomy

-satisfaction which he usually reserved for telling his employer that

-the battery had run down.

-

-"Not there? What do you mean?"

-

-"Mr. Hugo took it, sir, an hour ago. He told me he was going over to

-see Mr. Carmody at Healthward Ho. Said he had important business and

-knew you wouldn't object."

-

-The stable yard reeled before John. Not for the first time in his life,

-he cursed his light-hearted cousin. "Knew you wouldn't object!" It was

-just the fat-headed sort of thing Hugo would have said.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER II

-

-

-                                   I

-

-There is something about those repellent words, Healthward Ho, that has

-a familiar ring. You feel that you have heard them before. And then you

-remember. They have figured in letters to the daily papers from time to

-time.

-

-                       THE STRAIN OF MODERN LIFE

-

-    TO THE EDITOR

-

-    _The Times._

-

-    SIR:

-

-    In connection with the recent correspondence in your columns on the

-    Strain of Modern Life, I wonder if any of your readers are aware

-    that there exists in the county of Worcestershire an establishment

-    expressly designed to correct this strain. At Healthward Ho

-    (formerly Graveney Court), under the auspices of the well-known

-    American physician and physical culture expert, Doctor Alexander

-    Twist, it is possible for those who have allowed the demands of

-    modern life to tax their physique too greatly to recuperate in

-    ideal surroundings and by means of early hours, wholesome exercise,

-    and Spartan fare to build up once more their debilitated tissues.

-

-    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.

-

-                                                             I am, sir,

-                                                             Yrs. etc.,

-                                             MENS SANA IN CORPORE SANO.

-

-

-                          DO WE EAT TOO MUCH?

-

-    TO THE EDITOR

-

-    _Daily Mail._

-

-    SIR:

-

-    The correspondence in your columns on the above subject calls to

-    mind a remark made to me not long ago by Doctor Alexander Twist,

-    the well-known American physician and physical culture expert.

-    "Over-eating," said Doctor Twist emphatically, "is the curse of the

-    Age."

-

-    At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), his physical culture

-    establishment in Worcestershire, wholesale exercise and Spartan

-    fare are the order of the day, and Doctor Twist has, I understand,

-    worked miracles with the most apparently hopeless cases.

-

-    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.

-

-                                                             I am, sir,

-                                                             Yrs. etc.,

-                                              MODERATION IN ALL THINGS.

-

-

-                   SHOULD THE CHAPERONE BE RESTORED?

-

-    TO THE EDITOR

-

-    _Daily Express._

-

-    SIR:

-

-    A far more crying need than that of the Chaperone in these modern

-    days is for a Supervisor of the middle-aged man who has allowed

-    himself to get "out of shape."

-

-    At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), in Worcestershire,

-    where Doctor Alexander Twist, the well-known American physician and

-    physical culture expert, ministers to such cases, wonders have been

-    achieved by means of simple fare and mild, but regular, exercise.

-

-    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.

-

-                                                             I am, sir,

-                                                              Yrs. etc.

-                                                              VIGILANT.

-

-These letters and many others, though bearing a pleasing variety of

-signatures, proceeded in fact from a single gifted pen--that of Doctor

-Twist himself--and among that class of the public which consistently

-does itself too well when the gong goes and yet is never wholly free

-from wistful aspirations toward a better liver they had created a

-scattered but quite satisfactory interest in Healthward Ho. Clients

-had enrolled themselves on the doctor's books, and now, on this summer

-afternoon, he was enabled to look down from his study window at a group

-of no fewer than eleven of them, skipping with skipping ropes under the

-eye of his able and conscientious assistant, ex-Sergeant-Major Flannery.

-

-Sherlock Holmes--and even, on one of his bright days, Doctor

-Watson--could have told at a glance which of those muffled figures was

-Mr. Flannery. He was the only one who went in instead of out at the

-waist-line. All the others were well up in the class of man whom Julius

-Cæsar once expressed a desire to have about him. And pre-eminent among

-them in stoutness, dampness, and general misery was Mr. Lester Carmody,

-of Rudge Hall.

-

-The fact that Mr. Carmody was by several degrees the most

-unhappy-looking member of this little band of martyrs was due to his

-distress, unlike that of his fellow-sufferers, being mental as well as

-physical. He was allowing his mind, for the hundredth time, to dwell on

-the paralyzing cost of these hygienic proceedings.

-

-Thirty guineas a week, thought Mr. Carmody as he bounded up and down.

-Four pound ten a day.... Three shillings and ninepence an hour....

-Three solid farthings a minute.... To meditate on these figures was

-like turning a sword in his heart. For Lester Carmody loved money as he

-loved nothing else in this world except a good dinner.

-

-Doctor Twist turned from the window. A maid had appeared bearing a card

-on a salver.

-

-"Show him in," said Doctor Twist, having examined this. And presently

-there entered a lissom young man in a gray flannel suit.

-

-"Doctor Twist?"

-

-"Yes, sir."

-

-The newcomer seemed a little surprised. It was as if he had been

-expecting something rather more impressive, and was wondering why, if

-the proprietor of Healthward Ho had the ability which he claimed, to

-make New Men for Old, he had not taken the opportunity of effecting

-some alterations in himself. For Doctor Twist was a small man, and

-weedy. He had a snub nose and an expression of furtive slyness. And he

-wore a waxed moustache.

-

-However, all this was not the visitor's business. If a man wishes to

-wax his moustache, it is a matter between himself and his God.

-

-"My name's Carmody," he said. "Hugo Carmody."

-

-"Yes. I got your card."

-

-"Could I have a word with my uncle?"

-

-"Sure, if you don't mind waiting a minute. Right now," explained Doctor

-Twist, with a gesture toward the window, "he's occupied."

-

-Hugo moved to the window, looked out, and started violently.

-

-"Great Scott!" he exclaimed.

-

-He gaped down at the group below. Mr. Carmody and colleagues

-had now discarded the skipping ropes and were performing some

-unpleasant-looking bending and stretching exercises, holding their

-hands above their heads and swinging painfully from what one may

-loosely term their waists. It was a spectacle well calculated to

-astonish any nephew.

-

-"How long has he got to go on like that?" asked Hugo, awed.

-

-Doctor Twist looked at his watch.

-

-"They'll be quitting soon now. Then a cold shower and rub down, and

-they'll be through till lunch."

-

-"Cold shower?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"You mean to say you make my uncle Lester take cold shower baths?"

-

-"That's right."

-

-"Good God!"

-

-A look of respect came into Hugo's face as he gazed upon this master

-of men. Anybody who, in addition to making him tie himself in knots

-under a blazing sun, could lure Uncle Lester within ten yards of a cold

-shower bath was entitled to credit.

-

-"I suppose after all this," he said, "they do themselves pretty well at

-lunch?"

-

-"They have a lean mutton chop apiece, with green vegetables and dry

-toast."

-

-"Is that all?"

-

-"That's all."

-

-"And to drink?"

-

-"Just water."

-

-"Followed, of course, by a spot of port?"

-

-"No, sir."

-

-"No port?"

-

-"Certainly not."

-

-"You mean--literally--no port?"

-

-"Not a drop. If your old man had gone easier on the port, he'd not have

-needed to come to Healthward Ho."

-

-"I say," said Hugo, "did you invent that name?"

-

-"Sure. Why?"

-

-"Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd ask."

-

-"Say, while I think of it," said Doctor Twist, "have you any

-cigarettes?"

-

-"Oh, rather." Hugo produced a bulging case. "Turkish this side,

-Virginian that."

-

-"Not for me. I was only going to say that when you meet your uncle just

-bear in mind he isn't allowed tobacco."

-

-"Not allowed...? You mean to say you tie Uncle Lester into a lover's

-knot, shoot him under a cold shower, push a lean chop into him

-accompanied by water, and then don't even let the poor old devil get

-his lips around a single gasper?"

-

-"That's right."

-

-"Well, all I can say is," said Hugo, "it's no life for a refined

-Caucasian."

-

-Dazed by the information he had received, he began to potter aimlessly

-about the room. He was not particularly fond of his uncle. Mr. Carmody

-Senior's practice of giving him no allowance and keeping him imprisoned

-all the year round at Rudge would alone have been enough to check

-anything in the nature of tenderness, but he did not think he deserved

-quite all that seemed to be coming to him at Healthward Ho.

-

-He mused upon his uncle. A complex character. A man with Lester

-Carmody's loathing for expenditure ought by rights to have been a

-simple liver, existing off hot milk and triturated sawdust like an

-American millionaire. That Fate should have given him, together with

-his prudence in money matters, a recklessness as regarded the pleasures

-of the table seemed ironic.

-

-"I see they've quit," said Doctor Twist, with a glance out of the

-window. "If you want to have a word with your uncle you could do it

-now. No bad news, I hope?"

-

-"If there is I'm the one that's going to get it. Between you and me,"

-said Hugo, who had no secrets from his fellow men, "I've come to try to

-touch him for a bit of money."

-

-"Is that so?" said Doctor Twist, interested. Anything to do with money

-always interested the well-known American physician and physical

-culture expert.

-

-"Yes," said Hugo. "Five hundred quid, to be exact."

-

-He spoke a little despondently, for, having arrived at the window

-again, he was in a position now to take a good look at his uncle. And

-so forbidding had bodily toil and mental disturbance rendered the

-latter's expression that he found the fresh young hopes with which he

-had started out on this expedition rapidly ebbing away. If Mr. Carmody

-were to burst--and he looked as if he might do so at any moment--he,

-Hugo, being his nearest of kin, would inherit, but, failing that,

-there seemed to be no cash in sight whatever.

-

-"Though when I say 'touch'," he went on, "I don't mean quite that. The

-stuff is really mine. My father left me a few thousand, you see, but

-most injudiciously made Uncle Lester my trustee, and I'm not allowed to

-get at the capital without the old blighter's consent. And now a pal of

-mine in London has written offering me a half share in a new night club

-which he's starting if I will put up five hundred pounds."

-

-"I see."

-

-"And what I ask myself," said Hugo, "is will Uncle Lester part? That's

-what I ask myself. I can't say I'm betting on it."

-

-"From what I have seen of Mr. Carmody, I shouldn't say that parting was

-the thing he does best."

-

-"He's got absolutely no gift for it whatever," said Hugo gloomily.

-

-"Well, I wish you luck," said Doctor Twist. "But don't you try to bribe

-him with cigarettes."

-

-"Do what?"

-

-"Bribe him with cigarettes. After they have been taking the treatment

-for a while, most of these birds would give their soul for a coffin

-nail."

-

-Hugo started. He had not thought of this; but, now that it had been

-called to his attention, he saw that it was most certainly an idea.

-

-"And don't keep him standing around longer than you can help. He ought

-to get under that shower as soon as possible."

-

-"I suppose I couldn't tell him that owing to my pleading and

-persuasion you've consented to let him off a cold shower to-day?"

-

-"No, sir."

-

-"It would help," urged Hugo. "It might just sway the issue, as it were."

-

-"Sorry. He must have his shower. When a man's been exercising and has

-got himself into a perfect lather of sweat...."

-

-"Keep it clean," said Hugo coldly. "There is no need to stress the

-physical side. Oh, very well, then, I suppose I shall have to trust to

-tact and charm of manner. But I wish to goodness I hadn't got to spring

-business matters on him on top of what seems to have been a slightly

-hectic morning."

-

-He shot his cuffs, pulled down his waistcoat, and walked with a

-resolute step out of the room. He was about to try to get into the ribs

-of a man who for a lifetime had been saving up to be a miser and who,

-even apart from this trait in his character, held the subversive view

-that the less money young men had the better for them. Hugo was a gay

-optimist, cheerful of soul and a mighty singer in the bath tub, but

-he could not feel very sanguine. However, the Carmodys were a bulldog

-breed. He decided to have a pop at it.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Theoretically, no doubt, the process of exercising flaccid muscles,

-opening hermetically sealed pores, and stirring up a liver which had

-long supposed itself off the active list ought to engender in a man

-a jolly sprightliness. In practice, however, this is not always so.

-That Lester Carmody was in no radiant mood was shown at once by the

-expression on his face as he turned in response to Hugo's yodel from

-the rear. In spite of all that Healthward Ho had been doing to Mr.

-Carmody this last ten days, it was plain that he had not yet got that

-Kruschen feeling.

-

-Nor, at the discovery that a nephew whom he had supposed to be twenty

-miles away was standing at his elbow, did anything in the nature of

-sudden joy help to fill him with sweetness and light.

-

-"How the devil did you get here?" were his opening words of welcome.

-His scarlet face vanished for an instant into the folds of a large

-handkerchief; then reappeared, wearing a look of acute concern. "You

-didn't," he quavered, "come in the Dex-Mayo?"

-

-A thought to shake the sturdiest man. It was twenty miles from Rudge

-Hall to Healthward Ho, and twenty miles back again from Healthward Ho

-to Rudge Hall. The Dex-Mayo, that voracious car, consumed a gallon of

-petrol for every ten miles it covered. And for a gallon of petrol they

-extorted from you nowadays the hideous sum of one shilling and sixpence

-halfpenny. Forty miles, accordingly, meant--not including oil, wear and

-tear of engines, and depreciation of tires--a loss to his purse of over

-six shillings--a heavy price to pay for the society of a nephew whom he

-had disliked since boyhood.

-

-"No, no," said Hugo hastily. "I borrowed John's two-seater,"

-

-"Oh," said Mr. Carmody, relieved.

-

-There was a pause, employed by Mr. Carmody in puffing; by Hugo in

-trying to think of something to say that would be soothing, tactful,

-ingratiating, and calculated to bring home the bacon. He turned over in

-his mind one or two conversational gambits.

-

-("Well, Uncle, you look very rosy."

-

-Not quite right.

-

-"I say, Uncle what ho the School-Girl Complexion?"

-

-Absolutely _no_! The wrong tone altogether.

-

-Ah! That was more like it. "Fit." Yes, that was the word.)

-

-"You look very fit, Uncle," said Hugo.

-

-Mr. Carmody's reply to this was to make a noise like a buffalo pulling

-its foot out of a swamp. It might have been intended to be genial, or

-it might not. Hugo could not tell. However, he was a reasonable young

-man, and he quite understood that it would be foolish to expect the

-milk of human kindness instantly to come gushing like a geyser out of

-a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound uncle who had just been doing bending

-and stretching exercises. He must be patient and suave--the Sympathetic

-Nephew.

-

-"I expect it's been pretty tough going, though," he proceeded. "I mean

-to say, all these exercises and cold showers and lean chops and so

-forth. Terribly trying. Very upsetting. A great ordeal. I think it's

-wonderful the way you've stuck it out. Simply wonderful. It's Character

-that does it. That's what it is. Character. Many men would have chucked

-the whole thing up in the first two days."

-

-"So would I," said Mr. Carmody, "only that damned doctor made me give

-him a cheque in advance for the whole course."

-

-Hugo felt damped. He had had some good things to say about Character,

-and it seemed little use producing them now.

-

-"Well, anyway, you look very fit. Very fit indeed. Frightfully fit.

-Remarkably fit. Extraordinarily fit." He paused. This was getting him

-nowhere. He decided to leap straight to the point at issue. To put his

-fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. "I say, Uncle Lester, what

-I really came about this afternoon was a matter of business."

-

-"Indeed? I supposed you had come merely to babble. What business?"

-

-"You know a friend of mine named Fish?"

-

-"I do not know a friend of yours named Fish."

-

-"Well, he's a friend of mine. His name's Fish. Ronnie Fish."

-

-"What about him?"

-

-"He's starting a new night club."

-

-"I don't care," said Mr. Carmody, who did not.

-

-"It's just off Bond Street, in the heart of London's pleasure-seeking

-area. He's calling it the Hot Spot."

-

-The only comment Mr. Carmody vouchsafed on this piece of information

-was a noise like another buffalo. His face was beginning to lose its

-vermilion tinge, and it seemed possible that in a few moments he might

-come off the boil.

-

-"I had a letter from him this morning. He says he will give me a half

-share if I put up five hundred quid."

-

-"Then you won't get a half share," predicted Mr. Carmody.

-

-"But I've got five hundred. I mean to say, you're holding a lot more

-than that in trust for me."

-

-"Holding," said Mr. Carmody, "is the right word."

-

-"But surely you'll let me have this quite trivial sum for a really

-excellent business venture that simply can't fail? Ronnie knows all

-about night clubs. He's practically lived in them since he came down

-from Cambridge."

-

-"I shall not give you a penny. Have you no conception of the duties of

-a trustee? Trust money has to be invested in gilt-edged securities."

-

-"You'll never find a gilter-edged security than a night club run by

-Ronnie Fish."

-

-"If you have finished this nonsense I will go and take my shower bath."

-

-"Well, look here, Uncle, may I invite Ronnie to Rudge, so that you can

-have a talk with him?"

-

-"You may not. I have no desire to talk with him."

-

-"You'd like Ronnie. He has an aunt in the looney-bin."

-

-"Do you consider that a recommendation?"

-

-"No, I just mentioned it."

-

-"Well, I refuse to have him at Rudge."

-

-"But listen, Uncle. The vicar will be round any day now to get me to

-perform at the village concert. If Ronnie were on the spot, he and I

-could do the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_ and really give the

-customers something for their money."

-

-Even this added inducement did not soften Mr. Carmody.

-

-"I will not invite your friends to Rudge."

-

-"Right ho," said Hugo, a game loser. He was disappointed, but not

-surprised. All along he had felt that that Hot Spot business was merely

-a Utopian dream. There are some men who are temperamentally incapable

-of parting with five hundred pounds, and his uncle Lester was one of

-them. But in the matter of a smaller sum it might be that he would

-prove more pliable, and of this smaller sum Hugo had urgent need.

-"Well, then, putting that aside," he said, "there's another thing I'd

-like to chat about for a moment, if you don't mind."

-

-"I do," said Mr. Carmody.

-

-"There's a big fight on to-night at the Albert Hall. Eustace Rodd

-and Cyril Warburton are going twenty rounds for the welter-weight

-championship. Have you ever noticed," said Hugo, touching on a matter

-to which he had given some thought, "a rather odd thing about boxers

-these days? A few years ago you never heard of one that wasn't Beefy

-This or Porky That or Young Cat's-meat or something. But now they're

-all Claudes and Harolds and Cuthberts. And when you consider that the

-heavyweight champion of the world is actually named Eugene, it makes

-you think a bit. However, be that as it may, these two birds are going

-twenty rounds to-night, and there you are."

-

-"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is all this drivel?"

-

-He eyed his young relative balefully. In an association that had lasted

-many years, he had found Hugo consistently irritating to his nervous

-system, and he was finding him now rather more trying than usual.

-

-"I only meant to point out that Ronnie Fish has sent me a ticket,

-and I thought that, if you were to spring a tenner for the necessary

-incidental expenses--bed, breakfast, and so on ... well, there I would

-be, don't you know."

-

-"You mean you wish to go to London to see a boxing contest?"

-

-"That's it."

-

-"Well, you're not going. You know I have expressly forbidden you to

-visit London. The last time I was weak enough to allow you to go there,

-what happened? You spent the night in a police station."

-

-"Yes, but that was Boat-Race Night."

-

-"And I had to pay five pounds for your fine."

-

-Hugo dismissed the past with a gesture.

-

-"The whole thing," he said, "was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and,

-if you ask me, the verdict of posterity will be that the policeman was

-far more to blame than I was. They're letting a bad type of men into

-the force nowadays. I've noticed it on several occasions. Besides, it

-won't happen again."

-

-"You are right. It will not."

-

-"On second thoughts, then, you will spring that tenner?"

-

-"On first, second, third, and fourth thoughts I will do nothing of the

-kind."

-

-"But, Uncle, do you realize what it would mean if you did?"

-

-"The interpretation I would put upon it is that I was suffering from

-senile decay."

-

-"What it would mean is that I should feel you trusted me, Uncle Lester,

-that you had faith in me. There's nothing so dangerous as a want of

-trust. Ask anybody. It saps a young man's character."

-

-"Let it," said Mr. Carmody callously.

-

-"If I went to London, I could see Ronnie Fish and explain all the

-circumstances about my not being able to go into that Hot Spot thing

-with him."

-

-"You can do that by letter."

-

-"It's so hard to put things properly in a letter."

-

-"Then put them improperly," said Mr. Carmody. "Once and for all, you

-are not going to London."

-

-He had started to turn away as the only means possible of concluding

-this interview, when he stopped, spellbound. For Hugo, as was his habit

-when matters had become difficult and required careful thought, was

-pulling out of his pocket a cigarette case.

-

-"Goosh!" said Mr. Carmody, or something that sounded like that.

-

-He made an involuntary motion with his hand, as a starving man will

-make toward bread: and Hugo, with a strong rush of emotion, realized

-that the happy ending had been achieved and that at the eleventh hour

-matters could at last be put on a satisfactory business basis.

-

-"Turkish this side, Virginian that," he said. "You can have the lot for

-ten quid."

-

-"Say, I think you'd best be getting along and taking your shower, Mr.

-Carmody," said the voice of Doctor Twist, who had come up unobserved

-and was standing at his elbow.

-

-The proprietor of Healthward Ho had a rather unpleasant voice, but

-never had it seemed so unpleasant to Mr. Carmody as it did at that

-moment. Parsimonious though he was, he would have given much for the

-privilege of heaving a brick at Doctor Twist. For at the very instant

-of this interruption he had conceived the Machiavellian idea of

-knocking the cigarette case out of Hugo's hand and grabbing what he

-could from the débris: and now this scheme must be abandoned.

-

-With a snort which came from the very depths of an overwrought soul,

-Lester Carmody turned and shuffled off toward the house.

-

-"Say, you shouldn't have done that," said Doctor Twist, waggling a

-reproachful head at Hugo. "No, sir, you shouldn't have done that. Not

-right to tantalize the poor fellow."

-

-Hugo's mind seldom ran on parallel lines with that of his uncle, but it

-was animated now by the identical thought which only a short while back

-Mr. Carmody had so wistfully entertained. He, too, was feeling that

-what Doctor Twist needed was a brick thrown at him. When he was able to

-speak, however, he did not mention this, but kept the conversation on a

-pacific and businesslike note.

-

-"I say," he said, "you couldn't lend me a tenner, could you?"

-

-"I could not," agreed Doctor Twist.

-

-In Hugo's mind the inscrutable problem of why an all-wise Creator

-should have inflicted a man like this on the world deepened.

-

-"Well, I'll be pushing along, then," he said moodily.

-

-"Going already?"

-

-"Yes, I am."

-

-"I hope," said Doctor Twist, as he escorted his young guest to his

-car, "you aren't sore at me for calling you down about those student's

-lamps. You see, maybe your uncle was hoping you would slip him one, and

-the disappointment will have made him kind of mad. And part of the

-system here is to have the patients think tranquil thoughts."

-

-"Think what?"

-

-"Tranquil, beautiful thoughts. You see, if your mind's all right, your

-body's all right. That's the way I look at it."

-

-Hugo settled himself at the wheel.

-

-"Let's get this clear," he said. "You expect my uncle Lester to think

-beautiful thoughts?"

-

-"All the time."

-

-"Even under a cold shower?"

-

-"Yes, sir."

-

-"God bless you!" said Hugo.

-

-He stepped on the self-starter, and urged the two-seater pensively

-down the drive. He was glad when the shrubberies hid him from the view

-of Doctor Twist, for one wanted to forget a fellow like that as soon

-as possible. A moment later, he was still gladder: for, as he turned

-the first corner, there popped out suddenly from a rhododendron bush

-a stout man with a red and streaming face. Lester Carmody had had to

-hurry, and he was not used to running.

-

-"Woof!" he ejaculated, barring the fairway.

-

-Relief flooded over Hugo. The marts of trade had not been closed after

-all.

-

-"Give me those cigarettes!" panted Mr. Carmody.

-

-For an instant Hugo toyed with the idea of creating a rising market.

-But he was no profiteer. Hugo Carmody, the Square Dealer.

-

-"Ten quid," he said, "and they're yours."

-

-Agony twisted Mr. Carmody's glowing features.

-

-"Five," he urged.

-

-"Ten," said Hugo.

-

-"Eight."

-

-"Ten."

-

-Mr. Carmody made the great decision.

-

-"Very well. Give me them. Quick."

-

-"Turkish this side, Virginian that," said Hugo.

-

-The rhododendron bush quivered once more from the passage of a heavy

-body: birds in the neighbouring trees began to sing again their anthems

-of joy: and Hugo, in his trousers pocket two crackling five-pound

-notes, was bowling off along the highway.

-

-Even Doctor Twist could have found nothing to cavil at in the beauty

-of the thoughts he was thinking. He carolled like a linnet in the

-springtime.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER III

-

-

-"Yes, sir," Hugo Carmody was assuring a listening world as he turned

-the two-seater in at the entrance of the stable yard of Rudge Hall some

-thirty minutes later, "that's my baby. No, sir, don't mean maybe. Yes,

-sir, that's my baby now. And, by the way, by the way...."

-

-"Blast you!" said his cousin John, appearing from nowhere. "Get out of

-that car."

-

-"Hullo, John," said Hugo. "So there you are, John. I say, John, I've

-just been paying a call on the head of the family over at Healthward

-Ho. Why they don't run excursion trains of sightseers there is more

-than I can understand. It's worth seeing, believe me. Large, fat men

-doing bending and stretching exercises. Tons of humanity leaping about

-with skipping ropes. Never a dull moment from start to finish, and

-all clean, wholesome fun, mark you, without a taint of vulgarity or

-suggestiveness. Pack some sandwiches and bring the kiddies. And let me

-tell you the best thing of all, John...."

-

-"I can't stop to listen. You've made me late already."

-

-"Late for what?"

-

-"I'm going to London."

-

-"You are?" said Hugo, with a smile at the happy coincidence. "So am I.

-You can give me a lift."

-

-"I won't."

-

-"I am certainly not going to run behind."

-

-"You're not going to London."

-

-"You bet I'm going to London."

-

-"Well, go by train, then."

-

-"And break into hard-won cash, every penny of which will be needed for

-the big time in the metropolis? A pretty story!"

-

-"Well, anyway, you aren't coming with me."

-

-"Why not?"

-

-"I don't want you."

-

-"John," said Hugo, "there is more in this than meets the eye. You can't

-deceive me. You are going to London for a purpose. What purpose?"

-

-"If you really want to know, I'm going to see Pat."

-

-"What on earth for? She'll be here to-morrow. I looked in at Chas.

-Bywater's this morning for some cigarettes--and, gosh, how lucky it was

-I did!--by the way, he's putting them down to you--and he told me she's

-arriving by the three-o'clock train."

-

-"I know. Well, I happen to want to see her very particularly to-night."

-

-Hugo eyed his cousin narrowly. He was marshalling the facts and drawing

-conclusions.

-

-"John," he said, "this can mean but one thing. You are driving a

-hundred miles in a shaky car--that left front tire wants a spot of

-air. I should look to it before you start, if I were you--to see a

-girl whom you could see to-morrow in any case by the simple process of

-meeting the three-o'clock train. Your state of mind is such that you

-prefer--actually prefer--not to have my company. And, as I look at you,

-I note that you are blushing prettily. I see it all. You've at last

-decided to propose to Pat. Am I right or wrong?"

-

-John drew a deep breath. He was not one of those men who derive

-pleasure from parading their inmost feelings and discussing with others

-the secrets of their hearts. Hugo, in a similar situation, would have

-advertised his love like the hero of a musical comedy; he would have

-made the round of his friends, confiding in them; and, when the supply

-of friends had given out, would have buttonholed the gardener. But

-John was different. To hear his aspirations put into bald words like

-this made him feel as if he were being divested of most of his more

-important garments in a crowded thoroughfare.

-

-"Well, that settles it," said Hugo briskly. "Such being the case, of

-course you must take me along. I will put in a good word for you. Pave

-the way."

-

-"Listen," said John, finding speech. "If you dare to come within twenty

-miles of us...."

-

-"It would be wiser. You know what you're like. Heart of gold but no

-conversation. Try to tackle this on your own and you'll bungle it."

-

-"You keep out of this," said John, speaking in a low, husky voice that

-suggested the urgent need of one of those throat lozenges purveyed by

-Chas. Bywater and so esteemed by the dog Emily. "You keep right out of

-this."

-

-Hugo shrugged his shoulders.

-

-"Just as you please. Hugo Carmody is the last man," he said, a little

-stiffly, "to thrust his assistance on those who do not require same.

-But a word from me would make all the difference, and you know it.

-Rightly or wrongly, Pat has always looked up to me, regarded me as

-a wise elder brother, and, putting it in a nutshell, hung upon my

-lips. I could start you off right. However, since you're so blasted

-independent, carry on, only bear this in mind--when it's all over and

-you are shedding scalding tears of remorse and thinking of what might

-have been, don't come yowling to me for sympathy, because there won't

-be any."

-

-John went upstairs and packed his bag. He packed well and thoroughly.

-This done, he charged down the stairs, and perceived with annoyance

-that Hugo was still inflicting the stable yard with his beastly

-presence.

-

-But Hugo was not there to make jarring conversation. He was present

-now, it appeared, solely in the capacity of Good Angel.

-

-"I've fixed up that tire," said Hugo, "and filled the tank and put in a

-drop of oil and passed an eye over the machinery in general. She ought

-to run nicely now."

-

-John melted. His mood had softened, and he was in a fitter frame of

-mind to remember that he had always been fond of his cousin.

-

-"Thanks. Very good of you. Well, good-bye."

-

-"Good-bye," said Hugo. "And heaven speed your wooing, boy."

-

-Freed from the restrictions placed upon a light two-seater by the

-ruts and hillocks of country lanes, John celebrated his arrival on

-the broad main road that led to London by placing a large foot on the

-accelerator and keeping it there. He was behind time, and he intended

-to test a belief which he had long held, that a Widgeon Seven can, if

-pressed, do fifty. To the scenery, singularly beautiful in this part

-of England, he paid no attention. Automatically avoiding wagons by an

-inch and dreamily putting thoughts of the hereafter into the startled

-minds of dogs and chickens, he was out of Worcestershire and into

-Gloucestershire almost before he had really settled in his seat. It

-was only when the long wall that fringes Blenheim Park came into view

-that it was borne in upon him that he would be reaching Oxford in a

-few minutes and could stop for a well-earned cup of tea. He noted with

-satisfaction that he was nicely ahead of the clock.

-

-He drifted past the Martyrs' Memorial, and, picking his way through the

-traffic, drew up at the door of the Clarendon. He alighted stiffly, and

-stretched himself. And as he did so, something caught his attention out

-of the corner of his eye. It was his cousin Hugo, climbing down from

-the dickey.

-

-"A very nice run," said Hugo with satisfaction. "I should say we made

-pretty good time."

-

-He radiated kindliness and satisfaction with all created things. That

-John was looking at him in rather a peculiar way, and apparently trying

-to say something, he did not seem to notice.

-

-"A little refreshment would be delightful," he observed. "Dusty work,

-sitting in dickeys. By the way, I got on to Pat on the 'phone before

-we left, and there's no need to hurry. She's dining out and going to a

-theatre to-night."

-

-"What!" cried John, in agony.

-

-"It's all right. Don't get the wind up. She's meeting us at

-eleven-fifteen at the Mustard Spoon. I'll come on there from the

-fight and we'll have a nice home evening. I'm still a member, so I'll

-sign you in. And, what's more, if all goes well at the Albert Hall

-and Cyril Warburton is half the man I think he is and I can get some

-sporting stranger to bet the other way at reasonable odds, I'll pay the

-bill."

-

-"You're very kind!"

-

-"I try to be, John," said Hugo modestly. "I try to be. I don't think we

-ought to leave it all to the Boy Scouts."

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER IV

-

-

-                                   I

-

-A man whose uncle jerks him away from London as if he were picking a

-winkle out of its shell with a pin and keeps him for months and months

-immured in the heart of Worcestershire must inevitably lose touch

-with the swiftly-changing kaleidoscope of metropolitan night-life.

-Nothing in a big city fluctuates more rapidly than the status of its

-supper-dancing clubs; and Hugo, had he still been a lad-about-town in

-good standing, would have been aware that recently the Mustard Spoon

-had gone down a good deal in the social scale. Society had migrated to

-other, newer institutions, leaving it to become the haunt of the lesser

-ornaments of the stage and the Portuguese, the Argentines and the

-Greeks.

-

-To John Carroll, however, as he stood waiting in the lobby, the place

-seemed sufficiently gay and glittering. Nearly a year had passed since

-his last visit to London: and the Mustard Spoon rather impressed him.

-An unseen orchestra was playing with extraordinary vigour, and from

-time to time ornate persons of both sexes drifted past him into the

-brightly lighted supper room. Where an established connoisseur of

-night clubs would have pursed his lips and shaken his head, John was

-conscious only of feeling decidedly uplifted and exhilarated.

-

-But then he was going to see Pat again, and that was enough to

-stimulate any man.

-

-She arrived unexpectedly, at a moment when he had taken his eye off the

-door to direct it in mild astonishment at a lady in an orange dress

-who, doubtless with the best motives, had dyed her hair crimson and was

-wearing a black-rimmed monocle. So absorbed was he with this spectacle

-that he did not see her enter, and was only made aware of her presence

-when there spoke from behind him a clear little voice which, even when

-it was laughing at you, always seemed to have in it something of the

-song of larks on summer mornings and winds whispering across the fields

-in spring.

-

-"Hullo, Johnnie."

-

-The hair, scarlet though it was, lost its power to attract. The appeal

-of the monocle waned. John spun round.

-

-"Pat!"

-

-She was looking lovelier than ever. That was the thing that first

-presented itself to John's notice. If anybody had told him that Pat

-could possibly be prettier than the image of her which he had been

-carrying about with him all these months, he would not have believed

-him. But so it was. Some sort of a female with plucked eyebrows and

-a painted face had just come in, and she might have been put there

-expressly for purposes of comparison. She made Pat seem so healthy,

-so wholesome, such a thing of the open air and the clean sunshine,

-so pre-eminently fit. She looked as if she had spent her time at Le

-Touquet playing thirty-six holes of golf a day.

-

-"Pat!" cried John, and something seemed to catch at his throat. There

-was a mist in front of his eyes. His heart was thumping madly.

-

-She extended her hand composedly. In her this meeting after long

-separation had apparently stirred no depths. Her demeanour was

-friendly, but matter-of-fact.

-

-"Well, Johnnie. How nice to see you again. You're looking very brown

-and rural. Where's Hugo?"

-

-It takes two to hoist a conversation to an emotional peak. John choked,

-and became calmer.

-

-"He'll be here soon, I expect," he said.

-

-Pat laughed indulgently.

-

-"Hugo'll be late for his own funeral--if he ever gets to it. He said

-eleven-fifteen and it's twenty-five to twelve. Have you got a table?"

-

-"Not yet."

-

-"Why not?"

-

-"I'm not a member," said John, and saw in her eyes the scorn which

-women reserve for male friends and relations who show themselves

-wanting in enterprise. "You have to be a member," he said, chafing

-under the look.

-

-"I don't," said Pat with decision. "If you think I'm going to wait all

-night for old Hugo in a small lobby with six draughts whizzing through

-it, correct that impression. Go and find the head waiter and get a

-table while I leave my cloak. Back in a minute."

-

-John's emotions as he approached the head waiter rather resembled

-those with which years ago he had once walked up to a bull in a field,

-Pat having requested him to do so because she wanted to know if bulls

-in fields really are fierce or if the artists who depict them in

-comic papers are simply trying to be funny. He felt embarrassed and

-diffident. The head waiter was a large, stout, smooth-faced man who

-would have been better for a couple of weeks at Healthward Ho, and he

-gave the impression of having disliked John from the start.

-

-John said it was a nice evening. The head waiter did not seem to

-believe him.

-

-"Has--er--has Mr. Carmody booked a table?" asked John.

-

-"No, monsieur."

-

-"I'm meeting him here to-night."

-

-The head waiter appeared uninterested. He began to talk to an underling

-in rapid French. John, feeling more than ever an intruder, took

-advantage of a lull in the conversation to make another attempt.

-

-"I wonder.... Perhaps.... Can you give me a table?"

-

-Most of the head waiter's eyes were concealed by the upper strata of

-his cheeks, but there was enough of them left visible to allow him to

-look at John as if he were something unpleasant that had come to light

-in a portion of salad.

-

-"Monsieur is a member?"

-

-"Er--no."

-

-"If you will please wait in the lobby, thank you."

-

-"But I was wondering...."

-

-"If you will wait in the lobby, please," said the head waiter, and,

-dismissing John from the scheme of things, became gruesomely obsequious

-to an elderly man with diamond studs, no hair, an authoritative

-manner, and a lady in pink. He waddled before them into the supper

-room, and Pat reappeared.

-

-"Got that table?"

-

-"I'm afraid not. He says...."

-

-"Oh, Johnnie, you are maddening. Why are you so helpless?"

-

-Women are unjust in these matters. When a man comes into a night club

-of which he is not a member and asks for a table he feels that he is

-butting in, and naturally is not at his best. This is not helplessness,

-it is fineness of soul. But women won't see that.

-

-"I'm awfully sorry."

-

-The head waiter had returned, and was either doing sums or drawing

-caricatures on a large pad chained to a desk. He seemed so much the

-artist absorbed in his work that John would not have dreamed of

-venturing to interrupt him. Pat had no such delicacy.

-

-"I want a table, please," said Pat.

-

-"Madame is a member?"

-

-"A table, please. A nice, large one. I like plenty of room. And when

-Mr. Carmody arrives tell him that Miss Wyvern and Mr. Carroll are

-inside."

-

-"Very good, madame. Certainly, madame. This way, madame."

-

-Just as simple as that! John, making a physically impressive but

-spiritually negligible tail to the procession, wondered, as he crossed

-the polished floor, how Pat did these things. It was not as if she

-were one of those massive, imperious women whom you would naturally

-expect to quell head waiters with a glance. She was no Cleopatra, no

-Catherine of Russia--just a slim, slight girl with a tip-tilted nose.

-And yet she had taken this formidable magnifico in her stride, kicked

-him lightly in the face, and passed on. He sat down, thrilled with a

-worshipping admiration.

-

-Pat, as always happened after one of her little spurts of irritability,

-was apologetic.

-

-"Sorry I bit your head off, Johnnie," she said. "It was a shame, after

-you had come all this way just to see an old friend. But it makes me so

-angry when you're meek and sheep-y and let people trample on you. Still

-I suppose it's not your fault." She smiled across at him. "You always

-were a slow, good-natured old thing, weren't you, like one of those big

-dogs that come and bump their head on your lap and snuffle. Poor old

-Johnnie!"

-

-John felt depressed. The picture she had conjured up was not a

-flattering one; and, as for this "Poor Old Johnnie!" stuff, it struck

-just the note he most wanted to avoid. If one thing is certain in the

-relations of the sexes, it is that the Poor Old Johnnies of this world

-get nowhere. But before he could put any of these feelings into words

-Pat had changed the subject.

-

-"Johnnie," she said, "what's all this trouble between your uncle and

-Father? I had a letter from Father a couple of weeks ago, and as far as

-I could make out Mr. Carmody seems to have been trying to murder him.

-What's it all about?"

-

-Not so eloquently, nor with such a wealth of imagery as Colonel Wyvern

-had employed in sketching out the details of the affair of the dynamite

-outrage for the benefit of Chas. Bywater, Chemist, John answered the

-question.

-

-"Good heavens!" said Pat.

-

-"I--I hope...." said John.

-

-"What do you hope?"

-

-"Well, I--I hope it's not going to make any difference?"

-

-"Difference? How do you mean?"

-

-"Between us. Between you and me, Pat."

-

-"What sort of difference?"

-

-John had his cue.

-

-"Pat, darling, in all these years we've known one another haven't you

-ever guessed that I've been falling more and more in love with you

-every minute? I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. I loved

-you as a kid in short skirts and a blue jersey. I loved you when you

-came back from that school of yours, looking like a princess. And

-I love you now more than I have ever loved you. I worship you, Pat

-darling. You're the whole world to me, just the one thing that matters

-the least little bit. And don't you try to start laughing at me again

-now, because I've made up my mind that, whatever else you laugh at,

-you've got to take me seriously. I may have been Poor Old Johnnie in

-the past, but the time has come when you've got to forget all that. I

-mean business. You're going to marry me, and the sooner you make up

-your mind to it, the better."

-

-That was what John had intended to say. What he actually did say was

-something briefer and altogether less effective.

-

-"Oh, I don't know," said John.

-

-"Do you mean you're afraid I'm going to stop being friends with you

-just because my father and your uncle have had a quarrel?"

-

-"Yes," said John. It was not quite all he had meant, but it gave the

-general idea.

-

-"What a weird notion! After all these years? Good heavens, no. I'm much

-too fond of you, Johnnie."

-

-Once more John had his cue. And this time he was determined that he

-would not neglect it. He stiffened his courage. He cleared his throat.

-He clutched the tablecloth.

-

-"Pat...."

-

-"Oh, there's Hugo at last," she said, looking past him. "And about

-time. I'm starving. Hullo! Who are the people he's got with him? Do you

-know them?"

-

-John heaved a silent sigh. Yes, he could have counted on Hugo arriving

-at just this moment. He turned, and perceived that unnecessary young

-man crossing the floor. With him were a middle-aged man and a younger

-and extremely dashing-looking girl. They were complete strangers to

-John.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Hugo pranced buoyantly up to the table, looking like the Laughing

-Cavalier, clean-shaved.

-

-He was wearing the unmistakable air of a man who has been to a

-welter-weight boxing contest at the Albert Hall and backed the winner.

-

-"Hullo, Pat," he said jovially. "Hullo, John. Sorry I'm late. Mitt--if

-that is the word I want--my dear old friend ... I've forgotten your

-name," he added, turning to his companion.

-

-"Molloy, brother. Thomas G. Molloy."

-

-Hugo's dear old friend spoke in a deep, rich voice, well in keeping

-with his appearance. He was a fine, handsome, open-faced person in the

-early forties, with grizzled hair that swept in a wave off a massive

-forehead. His nationality was plainly American, and his aspect vaguely

-senatorial.

-

-"Molloy," said Hugo, "Thomas G. and daughter. This is Miss Wyvern. And

-this is my cousin, Mr. Carroll. And now," said Hugo, relieved at having

-finished with the introductions, "let's try to get a bit of supper."

-

-The service at the Mustard Spoon is not what it was; but by the

-simple process of clutching at the coat tails of a passing waiter and

-holding him till he consented to talk business Hugo contrived to get

-fairly rapid action. Then, after an interval of the rather difficult

-conversation which usually marks the first stages of this sort of

-party, the orchestra burst into a sudden torrent of what it evidently

-mistook for music and Thomas G. Molloy rose and led Miss Molloy out on

-to the floor. He danced a little stiffly, but he knew how to give the

-elbow and he appeared, as the crowd engulfed him, to be holding his own.

-

-"Who are your friends, Hugo?" asked Pat.

-

-"Thos. G...."

-

-"Yes, I know. But who are they?"

-

-"Well, there," said Hugo, "you rather have me. I sat next to Thos. at

-the fight, and I rather took to the fellow. He seemed to me a man full

-of noble qualities, including a looney idea that Eustace Rodd was some

-good as a boxer. He actually offered to give me three to one, and I

-cleaned up substantially at the end of the seventh round. After that, I

-naturally couldn't very well get out of giving the man supper. And as

-he had promised to take his daughter out to-night, I said bring her

-along. You don't mind?"

-

-"Of course not. Though it would have been cosier, just we three."

-

-"Quite true. But never forget that, if it had not been for this Thos.,

-you would not be getting the jolly good supper which I have now ample

-funds to supply. You may look on Thos. as practically the Founder of

-the Feast." He cast a wary eye at his cousin, who was leaning back in

-his chair with the abstracted look of one in deep thought. "Has old

-John said anything to you yet?"

-

-"John? What do you mean? What about?"

-

-"Oh, things in general. Come and dance this. I want to have a very

-earnest word with you, young Pat. Big things are in the wind."

-

-"You're very mysterious."

-

-"Ah!" said Hugo.

-

-Left alone at the table with nothing to entertain him but his

-thoughts, John came almost immediately to the conclusion that his

-first verdict on the Mustard Spoon had been an erroneous one. Looking

-at it superficially, he had mistaken it for rather an attractive

-place: but now, with maturer judgment, he saw it for what it was--a

-blot on a great city. It was places like the Mustard Spoon that made

-a man despair of progress. He disliked the clientèle. He disliked the

-head waiter. He disliked the orchestra. The clientèle was flashy and

-offensive and, as regarded the male element of it, far too given to the

-use of hair oil. The head waiter was a fat parasite who needed kicking.

-And, as for Ben Baermann's Collegiate Buddies, he resented the fact

-that they were being paid for making the sort of noises which he,

-when a small boy, had produced--for fun and with no thought of sordid

-gain--on a comb with a bit of tissue paper over it.

-

-He was brooding on the scene in much the same spirit of captious

-criticism as that in which Lot had once regarded the Cities of the

-Plain, when the Collegiate Buddies suddenly suspended their cacophony,

-and he saw Pat and Hugo coming back to the table.

-

-But the Buddies had only been crouching, the better to spring. A moment

-later they were at it again, and Pat, pausing, looked expectantly at

-Hugo.

-

-Hugo shook his head.

-

-"I've just seen Ronnie Fish up in the balcony," he said. "I positively

-must go and confer with him. I have urgent matters to discuss with the

-old leper. Sit down and talk to John. You've got lots to talk about.

-See you anon. And, if there's anything you want, order it, paying no

-attention whatever to the prices in the right-hand column. Thanks to

-Thos., I'm made of money to-night."

-

-Hugo melted away: Pat sat down: and John, with another abrupt change

-of mood, decided that he had misjudged the Mustard Spoon. A very

-jolly little place, when you looked at it in the proper spirit. Nice

-people, a distinctly lovable head waiter, and as attractive a lot of

-musicians as he remembered ever to have seen. He turned to Pat, to seek

-her confirmation of these views, and, meeting her gaze, experienced a

-rather severe shock. Her eyes seemed to have frozen over. They were

-cold and hard. Taken in conjunction with the fact that her nose turned

-up a little at the end, they gave her face a scornful and contemptuous

-look.

-

-"Hullo!" he said, alarmed. "What's the matter?"

-

-"Nothing."

-

-"Why are you looking like that?"

-

-"Like what?"

-

-"Well...."

-

-John had little ability as a word painter. He could not on the spur of

-the moment give anything in the nature of detailed description of the

-way Pat was looking. He only knew he did not like it.

-

-"I suppose you expected me to look at you 'with eyes overrunning with

-laughter'?"

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"'Archly the maiden smiled, and with eyes overrunning with laughter

-said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"'"

-

-"I don't know what you're talking about."

-

-"Don't you know _The Courtship of Miles Standish_? I thought that

-must have been where you got the idea. I had to learn chunks of it at

-school, and even at that tender age I always thought Miles Standish a

-perfect goop. 'If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed

-me, Why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me? If I

-am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning.' And yards

-more of it. I knew it by heart once. Well, what I want to know is, do

-you expect my answer direct, or would you prefer that I communicated

-with your agent?"

-

-"I don't understand."

-

-"Don't you? No? Really?"

-

-"Pat, what's the matter?"

-

-"Oh, nothing much. When we were dancing just now, Hugo proposed to me."

-

-A cold hand clutched at John's heart. He had not a high opinion of his

-cousin's fascinations, but the thought of anybody but himself proposing

-to Pat was a revolting one.

-

-"Oh, did he?'

-

-"Yes, he did. For you."

-

-"For me? How do you mean, for me?"

-

-"I'm telling you. He asked me to marry you. And very eloquent he was,

-too. All the people who heard him--and there must have been dozens who

-did--were much impressed."

-

-She stopped: and, as far as such a thing is possible at the Mustard

-Spoon when Baermann's Collegiate Buddies are giving an encore of "My

-Sweetie Is A Wow," there was silence. Emotion of one sort or another

-had deprived Pat of words: and, as for John, he was feeling as if he

-could never speak again.

-

-He had flushed a dusky red, and his collar had suddenly become so tight

-that he had all the sensations of a man who is being garrotted. And so

-powerfully had the shock of this fearful revelation affected his mind

-that his only coherent thought was a desire to follow Hugo up to the

-balcony, tear him limb from limb, and scatter the fragments onto the

-tables below.

-

-Pat was the first to find speech. She spoke quickly, stormily.

-

-"I can't understand you, Johnnie. You never used to be such a

-jellyfish. You did have a mind of your own once. But now ... I believe

-it's living at Rudge all the time that has done it. You've got lazy

-and flabby. It's turned you into a vegetable. You just loaf about and

-go on and on, year after year, having your three fat meals a day and

-your comfortable rooms and your hot-water bottle at night...."

-

-"I don't!" cried John, stung by this monstrous charge from the coma

-which was gripping him.

-

-"Well, bed socks, then," amended Pat. "You've just let yourself be

-cosseted and pampered and kept in comfort till the You that used to be

-there has withered away and you've gone blah. My dear, good Johnnie,"

-said Pat vehemently, riding over his attempt at speech and glaring at

-him above a small, perky nose whose tip had begun to quiver even as it

-had always done when she lost her temper as a child. "My poor, idiotic,

-flabby, fat-headed Johnnie, do you seriously expect a girl to want to

-marry a man who hasn't the common, elementary pluck to propose to her

-for himself and has to get someone else to do it for him?"

-

-"I didn't!"

-

-"You did."

-

-"I tell you I did not."

-

-"You mean you never asked Hugo to sound me out?"

-

-"Of course not. Hugo is a meddling, officious idiot, and if I'd got him

-here now, I'd wring his neck."

-

-He scowled up at the balcony. Hugo, who happened to be looking down at

-the moment, beamed encouragingly and waved a friendly hand as if to

-assure his cousin that he was with him in spirit. Silence, tempered

-by the low wailing of the Buddy in charge of the saxophone and the

-unpleasant howling of his college friends, who had just begun to sing

-the chorus, fell once more.

-

-"This opens up a new line of thought," said Pat at length. "Our Miss

-Wyvern appears to have got the wires crossed," she looked at him

-meditatively. "It's funny. Hugo seemed so convinced about the way you

-felt."

-

-John's collar tightened up another half inch, but he managed to get his

-vocal chords working.

-

-"He was quite right about the way I felt."

-

-"You mean.... Really?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"You mean you're ... fond of me?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"But, Johnnie!"

-

-"Damn it, are you blind?" cried John, savage from shame and the agony

-of harrowed feelings, not to mention a collar which appeared to have

-been made for a man half his size. "Can't you see? Don't you know I've

-always loved you? Yes, even when you were a kid."

-

-"But, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" Distress was making Pat's silver

-voice almost squeaky. "You can't have done. I was a horrible kid. I did

-nothing but bully you from morning till night."

-

-"I liked it."

-

-"But how can you want me to marry you? We know each other too well.

-I've always looked on you as a sort of brother."

-

-There are words in the language which are like a knell. Keats

-considered "forlorn" one of them. John Carroll was of opinion that

-"brother" was a second.

-

-"Oh, I know. I was a fool. I knew you would simply laugh at me."

-

-Pat's eyes were misty. The tip of her nose no longer quivered, but now

-it was her mouth that did so. She reached out across the table and her

-hand rested on his for a brief instant.

-

-"I'm not laughing at you, Johnnie, you--you chump. What would I want to

-laugh at you for? I'm much nearer crying. I'd do anything in the world

-rather than hurt you. You must know that. You're the dearest old thing

-that ever lived. There's no one on earth I'm fonder of." She paused.

-"But this ... it--it simply isn't on the board."

-

-She was looking at him, furtively, taking advantage of the fact

-that his face was turned away and his eyes fixed on the broad,

-swallow-tailed back of Mr. Ben Baermann. It was odd, she felt, all very

-odd. If she had been asked to describe the sort of man whom one of

-these days she hoped to marry, the description, curiously enough, would

-not have been at all unlike dear old Johnnie. He had the right clean,

-fit look--she knew she could never give a thought to anything but an

-outdoor man--and the straightness and honesty and kindliness which she

-had come, after moving for some years in a world where they were rare,

-to look upon as the highest of masculine qualities. Nobody could have

-been farther than John from the little, black-moustached dancing-man

-type which was her particular aversion, and yet ... well, the idea of

-becoming his wife was just simply too absurd and that was all there was

-to it.

-

-But why? What, then, was wrong with Johnnie? Simply, she felt, the

-fact that he was Johnnie. Marriage, as she had always envisaged it,

-was an adventure. Poor cosy, solid old Johnnie would have to display

-quite another side of himself, if such a side existed, before she could

-regard it as an adventure to marry him.

-

-"That man," said John, indicating Mr. Baermann, "looks like a Jewish

-black beetle."

-

-Pat was relieved. If by this remark he was indicating that he wished

-the recent episode to be taken as concluded, she was very willing to

-oblige him.

-

-"Doesn't he?" she said. "I don't know where they can have dug him up

-from. The last time I was here, a year ago, they had another band, a

-much better one. I think this place has gone down. I don't like the

-look of some of these people. What do you think of Hugo's friends?"

-

-"They seem all right." John cast a moody eye at Miss Molloy, a

-prismatic vision seen fitfully through the crowd. She was laughing, and

-showing in the process teeth of a flashing whiteness. "The girl's the

-prettiest girl I've seen for a long time."

-

-Pat gave an imperceptible start. She was suddenly aware of a feeling

-which was remarkably like uneasiness. It lurked at the back of her

-consciousness like a small formless cloud.

-

-"Oh!" she said.

-

-Yes, the feeling was uneasiness. Any other man who at such a moment had

-said those words she would have suspected of a desire to pique her, to

-stir her interest by a rather obviously assumed admiration of another.

-But not John. He was much too honest. If Johnnie said a thing, he meant

-it.

-

-A quick flicker of concern passed through Pat. She was always candid

-with herself, and she knew quite well that, though she did not want

-to marry him, she regarded John as essentially a piece of personal

-property. If he had fallen in love with her, that was, of course, a

-pity: but it would, she realized, be considerably more of a pity if he

-ever fell in love with someone else. A Johnnie gone out of her life and

-assimilated into that of another girl would leave a frightful gap. The

-Mustard Spoon was one of those stuffy, overheated places, but, as she

-meditated upon this possibility, Pat shivered.

-

-"Oh!" she said.

-

-The music stopped. The floor emptied. Mr. Molloy and his daughter

-returned to the table. Hugo remained up in the gallery, in earnest

-conversation with his old friend, Mr. Fish.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-Ronald Overbury Fish was a pink-faced young man of small stature and

-extraordinary solemnity. He had been at school with Hugo and also at

-the university. Eton was entitled to point with pride at both of them,

-and only had itself to blame if it failed to do so. The same remark

-applies to Trinity College, Cambridge. From earliest days Hugo had

-always entertained for R. O. Fish an intense and lively admiration,

-and the thought of being compelled to let his old friend down in this

-matter of the Hot Spot was doing much to mar an otherwise jovial

-evening.

-

-"I'm most frightfully sorry, Ronnie, old thing," he said immediately

-the first greetings were over. "I sounded the aged relative this

-afternoon about that business, and there's nothing doing."

-

-"No hope?"

-

-"None."

-

-Ronnie Fish surveyed the dancers below with a grave eye. He removed the

-stub of his cigarette from its eleven-inch holder, and recharged that

-impressive instrument.

-

-"Did you reason with the old pest?"

-

-"You can't reason with my uncle Lester."

-

-"I could," said Mr. Fish.

-

-Hugo did not doubt this. Ronnie, in his opinion, was capable of any

-feat.

-

-"Yes, but the only trouble is," he explained, "you would have to do it

-at long range. I asked if I might invite you down to Rudge and he would

-have none of it."

-

-Ronnie Fish relapsed into silence. It seemed to Hugo, watching him,

-that that great brain was busy, but upon what train of thought he could

-not conjecture.

-

-"Who are those people you're with?" he asked at length.

-

-"The big chap with the fair hair is my cousin John. The girl in green

-is Pat Wyvern. She lives near us."

-

-"And the others? Who's the stately looking bird with the brushed-back

-hair who has every appearance of being just about to address a

-gathering of constituents on some important point of policy?"

-

-"That's a fellow named Molloy. Thos. G. I met him at the fight. He's an

-American."

-

-"He looks prosperous."

-

-"He is not so prosperous, though, as he was before the fight started. I

-took thirty quid off him."

-

-"Your uncle, from what you have told me, is pretty keen on rich men,

-isn't he?"

-

-"All over them."

-

-"Then the thing's simple," said Ronnie Fish. "Invite this Mulcahy or

-whatever his name is to Rudge, and invite me at the same time. You'll

-find that in the ecstasy of getting a millionaire on the premises your

-uncle will forget to make a fuss about my coming. And once I am in I

-can talk this business over with him. I'll guarantee that if I can get

-an uninterrupted half hour with the old boy I can easily make him see

-the light."

-

-A rush of admiration for his friend's outstanding brain held Hugo

-silent for a moment. The bold simplicity of the move thrilled him.

-

-"What it amounts to," continued Ronnie Fish, "is that your uncle is

-endeavouring to do you out of a vast fortune. I tell you, the Hot Spot

-is going to be a gold mine. To all practical intents and purposes he is

-just as good as trying to take thousands of pounds out of your pocket.

-I shall point this out to him, and I shall be surprised if I can't put

-the thing through. When would you like me to come down?"

-

-"Ronnie," said Hugo, "this is absolute genius." He hesitated. He

-had no wish to discourage his friend, but he desired to be fair and

-above-board. "There's just one thing. Would you have any objection to

-performing at the village concert?"

-

-"I should enjoy it."

-

-"They're sure to rope you in. I thought you and I might do the Quarrel

-Scene from _Julius Cæsar_ again."

-

-"Excellent."

-

-"And this time," said Hugo generously, "you can be Brutus."

-

-"No, no," said Ronnie, moved.

-

-"Yes, yes."

-

-"Very well. Then fix things up with this American bloke, and leave the

-rest to me. Shall I like your uncle?"

-

-"No," said Hugo confidently.

-

-"Ah well," said Mr. Fish equably, "I don't for a moment suppose he'll

-like me."

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-The respite afforded to their patrons' ear drums by the sudden

-cessation of activity on the part of the Buddies proved of brief

-duration. Men like these ex-collegians, who have really got the

-saxophone virus into their systems, seldom have long lucid intervals

-between the attacks. Very soon they were at it again, and Mr. Molloy,

-rising, led Pat gallantly out onto the floor. His daughter, following

-them with a bright eye as she busied herself with a lip stick, laughed

-amusedly.

-

-"She little knows!"

-

-John, like Pat a short while before, had fallen into a train of

-thought. From this he now woke with a start to the realization that he

-was alone with this girl and presumably expected by her to make some

-effort at being entertaining.

-

-"I beg your pardon?" he said.

-

-Even had he been less preoccupied, he would have found small pleasure

-in this tête-à-tête. Miss Molloy--her father addressed her as

-Dolly--belonged to the type of girl in whose society a diffident man

-is seldom completely at ease. There hung about her like an aura a sort

-of hard glitter. Her challenging eyes were of a bright hazel--beautiful

-but intimidating. She looked supremely sure of herself.

-

-"I was saying," she explained, "that your Girl Friend little knows what

-she has taken on, going out to step with Soapy."

-

-"Soapy?"

-

-It seemed to John that his companion had momentarily the appearance of

-being a little confused.

-

-"My father, I mean," she said quickly. "I call him Soapy."

-

-"Oh?" said John. He supposed the practice of calling a father by a

-nickname in preference to the more old-fashioned style of address was

-the latest fad of the Modern Girl.

-

-"Soapy," said Miss Molloy, developing her theme, "is full of Sex

-Appeal, but he has two left feet." She emitted another little gurgle of

-laughter. "There! Would you just look at him now!"

-

-John was sorry to appear dull, but, eyeing Mr. Molloy as requested, he

-could not see that he was doing anything wrong. On the contrary, for

-one past his first youth, the man seemed to him enviably efficient.

-

-"I'm afraid I don't know anything about dancing," he said

-apologetically.

-

-"At that, you're ahead of Soapy. He doesn't even suspect anything.

-Whenever I get into the ring with him and come out alive I reckon I've

-broke even. It isn't so much his dancing on my feet that I mind--it's

-the way he jumps on and off that slays me. Don't you ever hoof?"

-

-"Oh, yes. Sometimes. A little."

-

-"Well, come and do your stuff, then. I can't sit still while they're

-playing that thing."

-

-John rose reluctantly. Their brief conversation had made it clear to

-him that in the matter of dancing this was a girl of high ideals, and

-he feared he was about to disappoint her. If she regarded with derision

-a quite adequate performer like Mr. Molloy, she was obviously no

-partner for himself. But there was no means of avoiding the ordeal. He

-backed her out into mid-stream, hoping for the best.

-

-Providence was in a kindly mood. By now the floor had become so

-congested that skill was at a discount. Even the sallow youths with

-the marcelled hair and the india-rubber legs were finding little scope

-to do anything but shuffle. This suited John's individual style. He,

-too, shuffled: and, playing for safety, found that he was getting along

-better than he could have expected. His tension relaxed, and he became

-conversational.

-

-"Do you often come to this place?" he asked, resting his partner

-against the slim back of one of the marcelled-hair brigade who, like

-himself, had been held up in the traffic block.

-

-"I've never been here before. And it'll be a long time before I come

-again. A more gosh-awful aggregation of yells for help, than this gang

-of whippets," said Miss Molloy, surveying the company with a critical

-eye, "I've never seen. Look at that dame with the eyeglass."

-

-"Rather weird," agreed John.

-

-"A cry for succour," said Miss Molloy severely. "And why, when you can

-buy insecticide at any drug store, people let these boys with the shiny

-hair go around loose beats me."

-

-John began to warm to this girl. At first, he had feared that he and

-she could have little in common. But this remark told him that on

-certain subjects, at any rate, they saw eye to eye. He, too, had felt

-an idle wonder that somebody did not do something about these youths.

-

-The Buddies had stopped playing: and John, glowing with the strange

-new spirit of confidence which had come to him, clapped loudly for an

-encore.

-

-But the Buddies were not responsive. Hitherto, a mere tapping of the

-palms had been enough to urge them to renewed epileptic spasms; but now

-an odd lethargy seemed to be upon them, as if they had been taking some

-kind of treatment for their complaint. They were sitting, instruments

-in hand, gazing in a spellbound manner at a square-jawed person in

-ill-fitting dress clothes who had appeared at the side of Mr. Baermann.

-And the next moment, there shattered the stillness a sudden voice that

-breathed Vine Street in every syllable.

-

-"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice, proceeding, as nearly as John

-could ascertain, from close to the main entrance, "will you kindly take

-your seats."

-

-"Pinched!" breathed Miss Molloy in his ear. "Couldn't you have betted

-on it!"

-

-Her diagnosis was plainly correct. In response to the request, most of

-those on the floor had returned to their tables, moving with the dull

-resignation of people to whom this sort of thing has happened before:

-and, enjoying now a wider range of vision, John was able to see that

-the room had become magically filled with replicas of the sturdy figure

-standing beside Mr. Baermann. They were moving about among the tables,

-examining with an offensive interest the bottles that stood thereon and

-jotting down epigrams on the subject in little notebooks. Time flies

-on swift wings in a haunt of pleasure like the Mustard Spoon, and it

-was evident that the management, having forgotten to look at its watch,

-had committed the amiable error of serving alcoholic refreshments after

-prohibited hours.

-

-"I might have known," said Miss Molloy querulously, "that something of

-the sort was bound to break loose in a dump like this."

-

-John, like all dwellers in the country as opposed to the wicked

-inhabitants of cities, was a law-abiding man. Left to himself, he would

-have followed the crowd and made for his table, there to give his name

-and address in the sheepish undertone customary on these occasions. But

-he was not left to himself. A moment later it had become plain that the

-dashing exterior of Miss Molloy was a true index to the soul within.

-She grasped his arm and pulled him commandingly.

-

-"Snap into it!" said Miss Molloy.

-

-The "it" into which she desired him to snap was apparently a small

-door that led to the club's service quarters. It was the one strategic

-point not yet guarded by a stocky figure with large feet and an eye

-like a gimlet. To it his companion went like a homing rabbit, dragging

-him with her. They passed through; and John, with a resourcefulness of

-which he was surprised to find himself capable, turned the key in the

-lock.

-

-"Smooth!" said Miss Molloy approvingly. "Nice work! That'll hold them

-for a while."

-

-It did. From the other side of the door there proceeded a confused

-shouting, and somebody twisted the handle with a good deal of

-petulance, but the Law had apparently forgotten to bring its axe with

-it to-night, and nothing further occurred. They made their way down a

-stuffy passage, came presently to a second door, and, passing through

-this, found themselves in a backyard, fragrant with the scent of old

-cabbage stalks and dish water.

-

-Miss Molloy listened. John listened. They could hear nothing but a

-distant squealing and tooting of horns, which, though it sounded like

-something out of the repertoire of the Collegiate Buddies, was in

-reality the noise of the traffic in Regent Street.

-

-"All quiet along the Potomac," said Miss Molloy with satisfaction.

-"Now," she added briskly, "if you'll just fetch one of those ash cans

-and put it alongside that wall and give me a leg-up and help me round

-that chimney and across that roof and down into the next yard and over

-another wall or two, I think everything will be more or less jake."

-

-

-                                   V

-

-John sat in the lobby of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street. A lifetime

-of activity and dizzy hustle had passed, but it had all been crammed

-into just under twenty minutes, and, after seeing his fair companion

-off in a taxicab, he had made his way to the Lincoln, to ascertain from

-a sleepy night porter that Miss Wyvern had not yet returned. He was now

-awaiting her coming.

-

-She came some little while later, escorted by Hugo. It was a fair

-summer night, warm and still, but with her arrival a keen east wind

-seemed to pervade the lobby. Pat was looking pale and proud, and Hugo's

-usually effervescent demeanour had become toned down to a sort of

-mellow sadness. He had the appearance of a man who has recently been

-properly ticked off by a woman for Taking Me to Places Like That.

-

-"Oh, hullo, John," he murmured in a low, bedside voice. He brightened

-a little, as a man will who, after a bad quarter of an hour with an

-emotional girl, sees somebody who may possibly furnish an alternative

-target for her wrath. "Where did you get to? Left early to avoid the

-rush?"

-

-"It was this way ..." began John. But Pat had turned to the desk, and

-was asking the porter for her key. If a female martyr in the rougher

-days of the Roman Empire had had occasion to ask for a key, she would

-have done it in just the voice which Pat employed. It was not a loud

-voice, nor an angry one,--just the crushed, tortured voice of a girl

-who has lost her faith in the essential goodness of humanity.

-

-"You see ..." said John.

-

-"Are there any letters for me?" asked Pat.

-

-"No, no letters," said the night porter; and the unhappy girl gave a

-little sigh, as if that was just what might be expected in a world

-where men who had known you all your life took you to Places which

-they ought to have Seen from the start were just Drinking-Hells, while

-other men, who also had known you all your life, and, what was more,

-professed to love you, skipped through doors in the company of flashy

-women and left you to be treated by the police as if you were a common

-criminal.

-

-"What happened," said John, "was this...."

-

-"Good night," said Pat.

-

-She followed the porter to the lift, and Hugo, producing a

-handkerchief, dabbed it lightly over his forehead.

-

-"Dirty weather, shipmate!" said Hugo. "A very deep depression off the

-coast of Iceland, laddie."

-

-He placed a restraining hand on John's arm, as the latter made a

-movement to follow the Snow Queen.

-

-"No good, John," he said gravely. "No good, old man, not the slightest.

-Don't waste your time trying to explain to-night. Hell hath no fury

-like a woman scorned, and not many like a girl who's just had to give

-her name and address in a raided night club to a plain-clothes cop who

-asked her to repeat it twice and then didn't seem to believe her."

-

-"But I want to tell her why...."

-

-"Never tell them why. It's no use. Let us talk of pleasanter things.

-John, I have brought off the coup of a lifetime. Not that it was my

-idea. It was Ronnie Fish who suggested it. There's a fellow with a

-brain, John. There's a lad who busts the seams of any hat that isn't a

-number eight."

-

-"What are you talking about?"

-

-"I'm talking about this amazingly intelligent idea of old Ronnie's.

-It's absolutely necessary that by some means Uncle Lester shall be

-persuaded to cough up five hundred quid of my capital to enable me to

-go into a venture second in solidity only to the Mint. The one person

-who can talk him into it is Ronnie. So Ronnie's coming to Rudge."

-

-"Oh?" said John, uninterested.

-

-"And to prevent Uncle Lester making a fuss about this, I've invited old

-man Molloy and daughter to come and visit us as well. That was Ronnie's

-big idea. Thos. is rolling in money, and, once Uncle Lester learns

-that, he won't kick about Ronnie being there. He loves having rich men

-around. He likes to nuzzle them."

-

-"Do you mean," cried John, "that that girl is coming to stay at Rudge?"

-

-He was appalled. Limpidly clear though his conscience was, he was able

-to see that his rather spectacular association with Miss Dolly Molloy

-had displeased Pat, and the last thing he wished for was to be placed

-in a position which was virtually tantamount to hobnobbing with the

-girl. If she came to stay at Rudge, Pat might think.... What might not

-Pat think?

-

-He became aware that Hugo was speaking to him in a quiet, brotherly

-voice.

-

-"How did all that come out, John?"

-

-"All what?"

-

-"About Pat. Did she tell you that I paved the way?"

-

-"She did! And look here...."

-

-"All right, old man," said Hugo, raising a deprecatory hand. "That's

-absolutely all right. I don't want any thanks. You'd have done the same

-for me. Well, what has happened? Everything pretty satisfactory?"

-

-"Satisfactory!"

-

-"Don't tell me she turned you down?"

-

-"If you really want to know, yes, she did."

-

-Hugo sighed.

-

-"I feared as much. There was something about her manner when I was

-paving the way that I didn't quite like. Cold. Not responsive. A

-bit glassy-eyed. What an amazing thing it is," said Hugo, tapping a

-philosophical vein, "that in spite of all the ways there are of saying

-Yes, a girl on an occasion like this nearly always says No. An American

-statistician has estimated that, omitting substitutes like 'All right,'

-'You bet,' 'O.K.,' and nasal expressions like 'Uh-huh,' the English

-language provides nearly fifty different methods of replying in the

-affirmative, including Yeah, Yeth, Yum, Yo, Yaw, Chess, Chass, Chuss,

-Yip, Yep, Yop, Yup, Yurp...."

-

-"Stop it!" cried John forcefully.

-

-Hugo patted him affectionately on the shoulder.

-

-"All right, John. All right, old man. I quite understand. You're upset.

-A little on edge, yes? Of course you are. But listen, John, I want to

-talk to you very seriously for a moment, in a broad-minded spirit of

-cousinly good will. If I were you, laddie, I would take myself firmly

-in hand at this juncture. You must see for yourself by now that you're

-simply wasting your time fooling about after dear old Pat. A sweet

-girl, I grant you--one of the best: but if she won't have you she

-won't, and that's that. Isn't it or is it? Take my tip and wash the

-whole thing out and start looking round for someone else. Now, there's

-Miss Molloy, for instance. Pretty. Pots of money. If I were you, while

-she's at Rudge, I'd have a decided pop at her. You see, you're one of

-those fellows that Nature intended for a married man right from the

-start. You're a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap that likes

-to roll the garden lawn and then put on his slippers and light a pipe

-and sit side by side with the little woman, sharing a twin set of head

-phones. Pull up your socks, John, and have a dash at this Molloy girl.

-You'd be on velvet with a rich wife."

-

-At several points during this harangue John had endeavoured to speak,

-and he was just about to do so now, when there occurred that which

-rendered speech impossible. From immediately behind them, as they stood

-facing the door, a voice spoke.

-

-"I want my bag, Hugo."

-

-It was Pat. She was standing within a yard of them. Her face was still

-that of a martyr, but now she seemed to suggest by her expression a

-martyr whose tormentors have suddenly thought up something new.

-

-"You've got my bag," she said.

-

-"Oh, ah," said Hugo.

-

-He handed over the beaded trifle, and she took it with a cold

-aloofness. There was a pause.

-

-"Well, good night," said Hugo.

-

-"Good night," said Pat.

-

-"Good night," said John.

-

-"Good night," said Pat.

-

-She turned away, and the lift bore her aloft. Its machinery badly

-needed a drop of oil, and it emitted, as it went, a low wailing sound

-that seemed to John like a commentary on the whole situation.

-

-

-                                  VI

-

-Some half a mile from Curzon Street, on the fringe of the Soho

-district, there stands a smaller and humbler hotel named the Belvidere.

-In a bedroom on the second floor of this, at about the moment when Pat

-and Hugo had entered the lobby of the Lincoln, Dolly Molloy sat before

-a mirror, cold-creaming her attractive face. She was interrupted in

-this task by the arrival of the senatorial Thomas G.

-

-"Hello, sweetie-pie," said Miss Molloy. "There you are."

-

-"Yes," replied Mr. Molloy. "Here I am."

-

-Although his demeanour lacked the high tragedy which had made strong

-men quail in the presence of Pat Wyvern, this man was plainly ruffled.

-His fine features were overcast and his frank gray eyes looked sombre.

-

-"Gee! If there's one thing in this world I hate," he said, "it's having

-to talk to policemen."

-

-"What happened?"

-

-"Oh, I gave my name and address. _A_ name and address, that is to say.

-But I haven't got over yet the jar it gave me seeing so many cops all

-gathered together in a small room. And that's not all," went on Mr.

-Molloy, ventilating another grievance. "Why did you make me tell those

-folks you were my daughter?"

-

-"Well, sweetie, it sort of cramps my style, having people know we're

-married."

-

-"What do you mean, cramps your style?"

-

-"Oh, just cramps my style."

-

-"But, darn it," complained Mr. Molloy, going to the heart of the

-matter, "it makes me out so old, folks thinking I'm your father." The

-rather pronounced gap in years between himself and his young bride was

-a subject on which Soapy Molloy was always inclined to be sensitive.

-"I'm only forty-two."

-

-"And you don't seem that, not till you look at you close," said Dolly

-with womanly tact. "The whole thing is, sweetie, being so dignified,

-you can call yourself anybody's father and get away with it."

-

-Mr. Molloy, somewhat soothed, examined himself, not without approval,

-in the mirror.

-

-"I do look dignified," he admitted.

-

-"Like a professor or something."

-

-"That isn't a bald spot coming there, is it?"

-

-"Sure it's not. It's just the way the light falls."

-

-Mr. Molloy resumed his examination with growing content.

-

-"Yes," he said complacently, "that's a face which for business purposes

-is a face. I may not be the World's Sweetheart, but nobody can say I

-haven't got a map that inspires confidence. I suppose I've sold more

-bum oil stock to suckers with it than anyone in the profession. And

-that reminds me, honey, what do you think?"

-

-"What?" asked Mrs. Molloy, removing cream with a towel.

-

-"We're sitting in the biggest kind of luck. You know how I've been

-wanting all this time to get hold of a really good prospect--some guy

-with money to spend who might be interested in a little oil deal?

-Well, that Carmody fellow we met to-night has invited us to go and

-visit at his country home."

-

-"You don't say!"

-

-"I do say!"

-

-"Well, isn't that the greatest thing. Is he rich?"

-

-"He's got an uncle that must be, or he couldn't be living in a place

-like he was telling me. It's one of those stately homes of England you

-read about."

-

-Mrs. Molloy mused. The soft smile on her face showed that her day

-dreams were pleasant ones.

-

-"I'll have to get me some new frocks ... and hats ... and shoes ... and

-stockings ... and ..."

-

-"Now, now, now!" said her husband, with that anxious alarm which

-husbands exhibit on these occasions. "Be yourself, baby! You aren't

-going to stay at Buckingham Palace."

-

-"But a country-house party with swell people...."

-

-"It isn't a country-house party. There's only the uncle besides those

-two boys we met to-night. But I'll tell you what. If I can plant a good

-block of those Silver River shares on the old man, you can go shopping

-all you want."

-

-"Oh, Soapy! Do you think you can?"

-

-"Do I think I can?" echoed Mr. Molloy scornfully. "I don't say I've

-ever sold Central Park or Brooklyn Bridge to anybody, but if I can't

-get rid of a parcel of home-made oil stock to a guy that lives in the

-country I'm losing my grip and ought to retire. Sure, I'll sell him

-those Silver Rivers, honey. These fellows that own these big estates in

-England are only glorified farmers when you come right down to it, and

-a farmer will buy anything you offer him, just so long as it's nicely

-engraved and shines when you slant the light on it."

-

-"But, Soapy...."

-

-"Now what?"

-

-"I've been thinking. Listen, Soapy. A home like this one where we're

-going is sure to have all sorts of things in it, isn't it? Pictures, I

-mean, and silver and antiques and all like that. Well, why can't we,

-once we're in the place, get away with them and make a nice clean-up?"

-

-Mr. Molloy, though conceding that this was the right spirit, was

-obliged to discourage his wife's pretty enthusiasm.

-

-"Where could you sell that sort of stuff?"

-

-"Anywhere, once you got it over to the other side. New York's full of

-rich millionaires who'll buy anything and ask no questions, just so

-long as it's antiques."

-

-Mr. Molloy shook his head.

-

-"Too dangerous, baby. If all that stuff left the house same time as we

-did, we'd have the bulls after us in ten minutes. Besides, it's not in

-my line. I've got my line, and I like to stick to it. Nobody ever got

-anywhere in the long run by going outside of his line."

-

-"Maybe you're right."

-

-"Sure I'm right. A nice conservative business, that's what I aim at."

-

-"But suppose when we get to this joint it looks dead easy?"

-

-"Ah! Well then, I'm not saying. All I'm against is risks. If

-something's handed to you on a plate, naturally no one wouldn't ever

-want to let it get past them."

-

-And with this eminently sound commercial maxim Mr. Molloy reached for

-his pyjamas and prepared for bed. Something attempted, something done,

-had earned, he felt, a night's repose.

-

-

-

-

-                               CHAPTER V

-

-

-                                   I

-

-Some years before the date of the events narrated in this story, at

-the time when there was all that trouble between the aristocratic

-householders of Riverside Row and the humbler dwellers in Budd Street

-(arising, if you remember, from the practice of the latter of washing

-their more intimate articles of underclothing and hanging them to dry

-in back gardens into which their exclusive neighbours were compelled to

-gaze every time they looked out of windows), the vicar of the parish,

-the Rev. Alistair Pond-Pond, always a happy phrase-maker, wound up his

-address at the annual village sports of Rudge with an impressive appeal

-to the good feeling of those concerned.

-

-"We must not," said the Reverend Alistair, "consider ourselves as

-belonging to this section of Rudge-in-the-Vale or to that section of

-Rudge-in-the-Vale. Let us get together. Let us recollect that we are

-all fellow-members of one united community. Rudge must be looked on as

-a whole. And what a whole it is!"

-

-With the concluding words of this peroration Pat Wyvern, by the time

-she had been home a little under a week, found herself in hearty

-agreement. Walking with her father along High Street on the sixth

-morning, she had to confess herself disappointed with Rudge.

-

-There are times in everyone's experience when Life, after running

-merrily for a while through pleasant places, seems suddenly to strike

-a dull and depressing patch of road: and this was what was happening

-now to Pat. The sense, which had come to her so strongly in the lobby

-of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street, of being in a world unworthy

-of her--a world cold and unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade

-of human being, had deepened. Her home-coming, she had now definitely

-decided, was not a success.

-

-Elderly men with a grievance are seldom entertaining companions for

-the young, and five days of the undiluted society of Colonel Wyvern

-had left Pat with the feeling that, much as she loved her father, she

-wished he would sometimes change the subject of his conversation. Had

-she been present in person she could not have had a fuller grasp of the

-facts of that dynamite outrage than she now possessed.

-

-But this was not all. After Mr. Carmody's thug-like behaviour on that

-fatal day, she was given to understand, the Hall and its grounds were

-as much forbidden territory to her as the piazza of the townhouse of

-the Capulets would have been to a young Montague. And, though, being a

-modern girl, she did not as a rule respond with any great alacrity to

-parental mandates, she had her share of clan loyalty and realized that

-she must conform to the rules of the game.

-

-Accordingly she had not been within half a mile of the Hall since her

-arrival, and, having been accustomed for fourteen years to treat the

-place and its grounds as her private property, found Rudge, with a

-deadline drawn across the boundaries of Mr. Carmody's park, a poor sort

-of place. Unlovable character though Mr. Carmody was in many respects,

-she had always been fond of him, and she missed seeing him. She also

-missed seeing Hugo. And, as for John, not seeing him was the heaviest

-blow of all.

-

-From the days of her childhood, John had always been her stand-by.

-Men might come and men might go, but John went on for ever. He had

-never been too old, like Mr. Carmody, or too lazy, like Hugo, to give

-her all the time and attention she required, and she did think that,

-even though there was this absurd feud going on, he might have had

-the enterprise to make an opportunity of meeting her. As day followed

-day her resentment grew, until now she had reached the stage when she

-was telling herself that this was simply what from a knowledge of

-his character she might have expected. John--she had to face it--was

-a jellyfish. And if a man is a jellyfish, he will behave like a

-jellyfish, and it is at times of crisis that his jellyfishiness will be

-most noticeable.

-

-It was conscience that had brought Pat to the High Street this morning.

-Her father had welcomed her with such a pathetic eagerness, and had

-been so plainly pleased to see her back that she was ashamed of herself

-for not feeling happier. And it was in a spirit of remorse that now,

-though she would have preferred to stay in the garden with a book, she

-had come with him to watch him buy another bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir from Chas. Bywater, Chemist.

-

-Brophy, it should be mentioned, had proved a sensational success. His

-Elixir was making the local gnats feel perfect fools. They would bite

-Colonel Wyvern on the face and stand back, all ready to laugh, and he

-would just smear Brophy on himself and be as good as new. It was simply

-sickening, if you were a gnat; but fine, of course, if you were Colonel

-Wyvern, and that just man, always ready to give praise where praise was

-due, said as much to Chas. Bywater.

-

-"That stuff," said Colonel Wyvern, "is good. I wish I'd heard of it

-before. Give me another bottle."

-

-Mr. Bywater was delighted--not merely at this rush of trade, but

-because, good kindly soul, he enjoyed ameliorating the lot of others.

-

-"I thought you would find it capital, Colonel. I get a great many

-requests for it. I sold a bottle yesterday to Mr. Carmody, senior."

-

-Colonel Wyvern's sunniness vanished as if someone had turned it off

-with a tap.

-

-"Don't talk to me about Mr. Carmody," he said gruffly.

-

-"Quite," said Chas. Bywater.

-

-Pat bridged a painful silence.

-

-"Is Mr. Carmody back, then?" she asked. "I heard he was at some sort of

-health place."

-

-"Healthward Ho, miss, just outside Lowick."

-

-"He ought to be in prison," said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-Mr. Bywater stopped himself in the nick of time from saying "Quite,"

-which would have been a deviation from his firm policy of never taking

-sides between customers.

-

-"He returned the day before yesterday, miss, and was immediately bitten

-on the nose by a mosquito."

-

-"Thank God!" said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-"But I sold him one of the three-and-sixpenny size of the Elixir,"

-said Chas. Bywater, with quiet pride, "and a single application

-completely eased the pain."

-

-Colonel Wyvern said he was sorry to hear it, and there is no doubt that

-conversation would once more have become difficult had there not at

-this moment made itself heard from the other side of the door a loud

-and penetrating sniff.

-

-A fatherly smile lit up Chas. Bywater's face.

-

-"That's Mr. John's dog," he said, reaching for the cough drops.

-

-Pat opened the door and the statement was proved correct. With a short

-wooffle, partly of annoyance at having been kept waiting and partly of

-happy anticipation, Emily entered, and seating herself by the counter,

-gazed expectantly at the chemist.

-

-"Hullo, Emily," said Pat.

-

-Emily gave her a brief look in which there was no pleased recognition,

-but only the annoyance of a dog interrupted during an important

-conference. She then returned her gaze to Mr. Bywater.

-

-"What do you say, doggie?" said Mr. Bywater, more paternal than ever,

-poising a cough drop.

-

-"Oh, Hell! Snap into it!" replied Emily curtly, impatient at this

-foolery.

-

-"Hear her speak for it?" said Mr. Bywater. "Almost human, that dog is."

-

-Colonel Wyvern, whom he had addressed, did not seem to share his lively

-satisfaction. He muttered to himself. He regarded Emily sourly, and his

-right foot twitched a little.

-

-"Just like a human being, isn't she, miss?" said Chas. Bywater, damped

-but persevering.

-

-"Quite," said Pat absently.

-

-Mr. Bywater, startled by this infringement of copyright, dropped the

-cough lozenge and Emily snapped it up.

-

-Pat, still distraite, was watching the door. She was surprised to find

-that her breath was coming rather quickly and that her heart had begun

-to beat with more than its usual rapidity. She was amazed at herself.

-Just because John Carroll would shortly appear in that doorway must

-she stand fluttering, for all the world as though poor old Johnnie, an

-admitted jellyfish, were something that really mattered? It was too

-silly, and she tried to bully herself into composure. She failed. Her

-heart, she was compelled to realize, was now simply racing.

-

-A step sounded outside, a shadow fell on the sunlit pavement, and Dolly

-Molloy walked into the shop.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-It is curious, when one reflects, to think how many different

-impressions a single individual can make simultaneously on a number

-of his or her fellow-creatures. At the present moment it was almost

-as though four separate and distinct Dolly Molloys had entered the

-establishment of Chas. Bywater.

-

-The Dolly whom Colonel Wyvern beheld was a beautiful woman with just

-that hint of diablerie in her bearing which makes elderly widowers feel

-that there is life in the old dog yet. Colonel Wyvern was no longer

-the dashing Hussar who in the 'nineties had made his presence felt in

-many a dim sitting-out place and in many a punt beneath the willows

-of the Thames, but there still lingered in him a trace of the old

-barrack-room fire. Drawing himself up, he automatically twirled his

-moustache. To Colonel Wyvern Dolly represented Beauty.

-

-To Chas. Bywater, with his more practical and worldly outlook, she

-represented Wealth. He saw in Dolly not so much a beautiful woman

-as a rich-looking woman. Although Soapy had contrived, with subtle

-reasoning, to head her off from the extensive purchases which she

-had contemplated making in preparation for her visit to Rudge, Dolly

-undoubtedly took the eye. She was, as she would have put it herself, a

-snappy dresser, and in Chas. Bywater's mind she awoke roseate visions

-of large orders for face creams, imported scents and expensive bath

-salts.

-

-Emily, it was evident, regarded Mrs. Molloy as Perfection. A dog who,

-as a rule, kept herself to herself and looked on the world with a cool

-and rather sardonic eye, she had conceived for Dolly the moment they

-met one of those capricious adorations which come occasionally to the

-most hard-boiled Welsh terriers. Hastily swallowing her cough drop, she

-bounded at Dolly and fawned on her.

-

-So far, the reactions caused by the newcomer's entrance have been

-unmixedly favourable. It is only when we come to Pat that we find

-Disapproval rearing its ugly head.

-

-"Disapproval," indeed, is a mild and inadequate word. "Loathing" would

-be more correct. Where Colonel Wyvern beheld beauty and Mr. Bywater

-opulence, Pat saw only flashiness, vulgarity, and general horribleness.

-Piercing with woman's intuitive eye through an outer crust which to

-vapid and irreflective males might possibly seem attractive, she saw

-Dolly as a vampire and a menace--the sort of woman who goes about

-the place ensnaring miserable fat-headed innocent young men who have

-lived all their lives in the country and so lack the experience to see

-through females of her type.

-

-For beyond a question, felt Pat, this girl must have come to Rudge in

-brazen pursuit of poor old Johnnie. The fact that she took her walks

-abroad accompanied by Emily showed that she was staying at the Hall;

-and what reason could she have had for getting herself invited to the

-Hall if not that she wished to continue the acquaintance begun at the

-Mustard Spoon? This, then, was the explanation of John's failure to

-come and pass the time of day with an old friend. What she had assumed

-to be jellyfishiness was in reality base treachery. Like Emily, whom,

-slavering over Mrs. Molloy's shoes, she could gladly have kicked, he

-had been hypnotized by this woman's specious glamour and had forsaken

-old allegiances.

-

-Pat, eyeing Dolly coldly, was filled with a sisterly desire to save

-John from one who could never make him happy.

-

-Dolly was all friendliness.

-

-"Why, hello," she said, removing a shapely foot from Emily's mouth, "I

-was wondering when I was going to run into you. I heard you lived in

-these parts."

-

-"Yes?" said Pat frigidly.

-

-"I'm staying at the Hall."

-

-"Yes?"

-

-"What a wonderful old place it is."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"All those pictures and tapestries and things."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Is this your father?"

-

-"Yes. This is Miss Molloy, Father. We met in London."

-

-"Pleased to meet you," said Dolly.

-

-"Charmed," said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-He gave another twirl of his moustache. Chas. Bywater hovered

-beamingly. Emily, still ecstatic, continued to gnaw one of Dolly's

-shoes. The whole spectacle was so utterly revolting that Pat turned to

-the door.

-

-"I'll be going along, Father," she said. "I want to buy some stamps."

-

-"I can sell you stamps, miss," said Chas. Bywater affably.

-

-"Thank you, I will go to the post office," said Pat. Her manner

-suggested that you got a superior brand of stamps there. She walked

-out. Rudge, as she looked upon it, seemed a more depressing place than

-ever. Sunshine flooded the High Street. Sunshine fell on the Carmody

-Arms, the Village Hall, the Plough and Chickens, the Bunch of Grapes,

-the Waggoner's Rest and the Jubilee Watering Trough. But there was no

-sunshine in the heart of Pat Wyvern.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-And, curiously enough, at this very moment up at the Hall the same

-experience was happening to Mr. Lester Carmody. Staring out of his

-study window, he gazed upon a world bathed in a golden glow: but his

-heart was cold and heavy. He had just had a visit from the Rev.

-Alistair Pond-Pond, and the Reverend Alistair had touched him for five

-shillings.

-

-Many men in Mr. Carmody's place would have considered that they had got

-off lightly. The vicar had come seeking subscriptions to the Church

-Organ Fund, the Mothers' Pleasant Sunday Evenings, the Distressed

-Cottagers' Aid Society, the Stipend of the Additional Curate and

-the Rudge Lads' Annual Summer Outing, and there had been moments of

-mad optimism when he had hoped for as much as a ten-pound note. The

-actual bag, as he totted it up while riding pensively away on his

-motor-bicycle, was the above-mentioned five shillings and a promise

-that the squire's nephew Hugo and his friend Mr. Fish should perform at

-the village concert next week.

-

-And even so, Mr. Carmody was looking on him as a robber. Five shillings

-had gone--just like that--and every moment now he was expecting his

-nephew John to walk in and increase his expenditure. For just after

-breakfast John had asked if he could have a word with him later on in

-the morning, and Mr. Carmody knew what that meant.

-

-John ran the Hall's dairy farm, and he was always coming to Mr.

-Carmody for money to buy exotic machinery which could not, the latter

-considered, be really necessary. To Mr. Carmody a dairy farm was a

-straight issue between man and cow. You backed the cow up against a

-wall, secured its milk, and there you were. John always seemed to want

-to make the thing so complicated and difficult, and only the fact that

-he also made it pay induced his uncle ever to accede to his monstrous

-demands.

-

-Nor was this all that was poisoning a perfect summer day for Mr.

-Carmody. There was in addition the soul-searing behaviour of Doctor

-Alexander Twist, of Healthward Ho.

-

-When Doctor Twist had undertaken the contract of making a new Lester

-Carmody out of the old Lester Carmody, he had cannily stipulated for

-cash down in advance--this to cover a course of three weeks. But at the

-end of the second week Mr. Carmody, learning from his nephew Hugo that

-an American millionaire was arriving at the Hall, had naturally felt

-compelled to forego the final stages of the treatment and return home.

-Equally naturally, he had invited Doctor Twist to refund one-third

-of the fee. This the eminent physician and physical culture expert

-had resolutely declined to do, and Mr. Carmody, re-reading the man's

-letter, thought he had never set eyes upon a baser document.

-

-He was shuddering at the depths of depravity which it revealed, when

-the door opened and John came in. Mr. Carmody beheld him and shuddered.

-John--he could tell it by his eye--was planning another bad dent in the

-budget.

-

-"Oh, Uncle Lester," said John.

-

-"Well?" said Mr. Carmody hopelessly.

-

-"I think we ought to have some new Alpha Separators."

-

-"What?"

-

-"Alpha Separators."

-

-"Why?"

-

-"We need them."

-

-"Why?"

-

-"The old ones are past their work."

-

-"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is an Alpha Separator?"

-

-John said it was an Alpha Separator.

-

-There was a pause. John, who appeared to have something on his mind

-these days, stared gloomily at the carpet. Mr. Carmody shifted in his

-chair.

-

-"Very well," he said.

-

-"And new tractors," said John. "And we could do with a few harrows."

-

-"Why do you want harrows?"

-

-"For harrowing."

-

-Even Mr. Carmody, anxious though he was to find flaws in the other's

-reasoning, could see that this might well be so. Try harrowing without

-harrows, and you are handicapped from the start. But why harrow at

-all? That was what seemed to him superfluous and wasteful. Still, he

-supposed it was unavoidable. After all, John had been carefully trained

-at an agricultural college after leaving Oxford and presumably knew.

-

-"Very well," he said.

-

-"All right," said John.

-

-He went out, and Mr. Carmody experienced a little relief at the thought

-that he had now heard all this morning's bad news.

-

-But dairy farmers have second thoughts. The door opened again.

-

-"I was forgetting," said John, poking his head in.

-

-Mr. Carmody uttered a low moan.

-

-"We want some Thomas tap-cinders."

-

-"Thomas what?"

-

-"Tap-cinders."

-

-"Thomas tap-cinders?"

-

-"Thomas tap-cinders."

-

-Mr. Carmody swallowed unhappily. He knew it was no use asking what

-these mysterious implements were, for his nephew would simply reply

-that they were Thomas tap-cinders or that they were something invented

-by a Mr. Thomas for the purpose of cinder-tapping, leaving his brain in

-the same addled condition in which it was at present. If John wished to

-tap cinders, he supposed he must humour him.

-

-"Very well," he said dully.

-

-He held his breath for a few moments after the door had closed once

-more, then, gathering at length that the assault on his purse was over,

-expelled it in a long sigh and gave himself up to bleak meditation.

-

-The lot of the English landed proprietor, felt Mr. Carmody, is not what

-it used to be in the good old times. When the first Carmody settled in

-Rudge he had found little to view with alarm. He was sitting pretty,

-and he admitted it. Those were the days when churls were churls, and a

-scurvy knave was quite content to work twelve hours a day, Saturdays

-included, in return for a little black bread and an occasional nod of

-approval from his overlord. But in this Twentieth-Century England's

-peasantry has degenerated. They expect coddling. Their roofs leak, and

-you have to mend them; their walls fall down and you have to build them

-up; their lanes develop holes and you have to restore the surface,

-and all this runs into money. The way things were shaping, felt Mr.

-Carmody, in a few years a landlord would be expected to pay for the

-repairs of his tenants' wireless sets.

-

-He wandered to the window and looked out at the sunlit garden. And as

-he did so there came into his range of vision the sturdy figure of his

-guest, Mr. Molloy, and for the first time that morning Lester Carmody

-seemed to hear, beating faintly in the distance, the wings of the blue

-bird. In a world containing anybody as rich-looking as Thomas G. Molloy

-there was surely still hope.

-

-Ronald Fish's prediction that Hugo's uncle would appreciate a visit

-from so solid a citizen of the United States as Mr. Molloy had been

-fulfilled to the letter. Mr. Carmody had welcomed his guest with open

-arms. The more rich men he could gather about him, the better he was

-pleased, for he was a man of vision, and had quite a number of schemes

-in his mind for which he was anxious to obtain financial support.

-

-He decided to go and have a chat with Mr. Molloy. On a morning like

-this, with all Nature smiling, an American millionaire might well

-feel just in the mood to put up a few hundred thousand dollars for

-something. For July had come in on golden wings, and the weather now

-was the kind of weather to make a poet sing, a lover love, and a Scotch

-business man subscribe largely to companies formed for the purpose of

-manufacturing diamonds out of coal tar. On such a morning, felt Mr.

-Carmody, anybody ought to be willing to put up any sum for anything.

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-Nature continued to smile for about another three and a quarter

-minutes, and then, as far as Mr. Carmody was concerned, the sun

-went out. With a genial heartiness, which gashed him like a knife,

-the plutocratic Mr. Molloy declined to invest even a portion of his

-millions in a new golf course, a cinema de luxe to be established in

-Rudge High Street, or any of the four other schemes which his host

-presented to his notice.

-

-"No, sir," said Mr. Molloy. "I'm mighty sorry I can't meet you in any

-way, but the fact is I'm all fixed up in Oil. Oil's my dish. I began in

-Oil and I'll end in Oil. I wouldn't be happy outside of Oil."

-

-"Oh?" said Mr. Carmody, regarding this Human Sardine with as little

-open hostility and dislike as he could manage on the spur of the moment.

-

-"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, still in lyrical vein, "I put my

-first thousand into Oil and I'll put my last thousand into Oil. Oil's

-been a good friend to me. There's money in Oil."

-

-"There is money," urged Mr. Carmody, "in a cinema in Rudge High Street."

-

-"Not the money there is in Oil."

-

-"You are a stranger here," went on Mr. Carmody patiently, "so you have

-no doubt got a mistaken idea of the potentialities of Rudge. Rudge,

-you must remember, is a centre. Small though it is, never forget that

-it lies just off the main road in the heart of a prosperous county.

-Worcester is only seven miles away, Birmingham only eighteen. People

-would come in their motors...."

-

-"I'm not stopping them," said Mr. Molloy generously. "All I'm saying is

-that my money stays in little old Oil."

-

-"Or take Golf," said Mr. Carmody, side-stepping and attacking from

-another angle. "The only good golf course in Worcestershire at present

-is at Stourbridge. Worcestershire needs more golf courses. You know how

-popular Golf is nowadays."

-

-"Not so popular as Oil. Oil," said Mr. Molloy, with the air of one

-making an epigram, "is Oil."

-

-Mr. Carmody stopped himself just in time from saying what he thought of

-Oil. To relieve his feelings he ground his heel into the soft gravel

-of the path, and had but one regret, that Mr. Molloy's most sensitive

-toe was not under it. Half turning in the process of making this bitter

-gesture, he perceived that Providence, since the days of Job always

-curious to know just how much a good man can bear, had sent Ronald

-Overbury Fish to add to his troubles. Young Mr. Fish was sauntering up

-behind his customary eleven inches of cigarette holder, his pink face

-wearing that expression of good-natured superiority which, ever since

-their first meeting, had afflicted Mr. Carmody sorely.

-

-From the list of Mr. Carmody's troubles, recently tabulated, Ronnie

-Fish was inadvertently omitted. Although to Lady Julia Fish, his

-mother, this young gentleman, no doubt, was all the world, Lester

-Carmody had found him nothing but a pain in the neck. Apart from

-the hideous expense of entertaining a man who took twice of nearly

-everything, and helped himself unblushingly to more port, he chafed

-beneath his guest's curiously patronizing manner. He objected to being

-treated as a junior--and, what was more, as a half-witted junior--by

-solemn young men with pink faces.

-

-"What's the argument?" asked Ronnie Fish, anchoring self and cigarette

-holder at Mr. Carmody's side.

-

-Mr. Molloy smiled genially.

-

-"No argument, brother," he replied with that bluff heartiness which

-Lester Carmody had come to dislike so much. "I was merely telling our

-good friend and host here that the best investment under the broad blue

-canopy of God's sky is Oil."

-

-"Quite right," said Ronnie Fish. "He's perfectly correct, my dear

-Carmody."

-

-"Our good host was trying to interest me in golf courses."

-

-"Don't touch 'em," said Mr. Fish.

-

-"I won't," said Mr. Molloy. "Give me Oil. Oil's oil. First in war,

-first in peace, first in the hearts of its countrymen, that's what Oil

-is. The Universal Fuel of the Future."

-

-"Absolutely," said Ronnie Fish. "What did Gladstone say in '88? You can

-fuel some of the people all the time, and you can fuel all the people

-some of the time, but you can't fuel all the people all of the time. He

-was forgetting about Oil. Probably he meant coal."

-

-"Coal?" Mr. Molloy laughed satirically. You could see he despised the

-stuff. "Don't talk to me about Coal."

-

-This was another disappointment for Mr. Carmody. Cinemas _de luxe_ and

-golf courses having failed, Coal was just what he had been intending to

-talk about. He suspected its presence beneath the turf of the park, and

-would have been glad to verify his suspicions with the aid of someone

-else's capital.

-

-"You listen to this bird, Carmody," said Mr. Fish, patting his host on

-the back. "He's talking sense. Oil's the stuff. Dig some of the savings

-out of the old sock, my dear Carmody, and wade in. You'll never regret

-it."

-

-And, having delivered himself of this advice with a fatherly

-kindliness which sent his host's temperature up several degrees, Ronnie

-Fish strolled on.

-

-Mr. Molloy watched him disappear with benevolent approval. He said to

-Mr. Carmody that that young man had his head screwed on the right way,

-and seemed not to notice a certain lack of responsive enthusiasm on the

-other's part. Ronnie Fish's head was not one of Mr. Carmody's favourite

-subjects at the moment.

-

-"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, resuming. "Any man that goes into Oil

-is going into a good thing. Oil's all right. You don't see John D.

-Rockefeller running round asking for hand-outs from his friends, do

-you? No, sir! John's got his modest little competence, same as me, and

-he got it, like I did, out of Oil. Say, listen, Mr. Carmody, it isn't

-often I give up any of my holdings, but you've been mighty nice to me,

-inviting me to your home and all, and I'd like to do something for you

-in return. What do you say to a good, solid block of Silver River stock

-at just the price it cost me? And let me tell you I'm offering you

-something that half the big men on our side would give their eye teeth

-for. Only a couple of days before I sailed I was in Charley Schwab's

-office, and he said to me, 'Tom,' said Charley, 'right up till now

-I've stuck to Steel and I've done well. Understand,' he said, 'I'm not

-knocking Steel. But Oil's the stuff, and if you want to part with any

-of that Silver River of yours, Tom,' he said, 'pass it across this desk

-and write your own ticket.' That'll show you."

-

-There is no anguish like the anguish of the man who is trying to

-extract cash from a fellow human being and suddenly finds the fellow

-human being trying to extract it from him. Mr. Carmody laughed a bitter

-laugh.

-

-"Do you imagine," he said, "that I have money to spare for speculative

-investments?"

-

-"Speculative?" Mr. Molloy seemed to suspect his ears of playing tricks.

-"Silver River spec----?"

-

-"By the time I've finished paying the bills for the expenses of this

-infernal estate I consider myself lucky if I've got a few hundred that

-I can call my own."

-

-There was a pause.

-

-"Is that so?" said Mr. Molloy in a thin voice.

-

-Strictly speaking, it was not. Before succeeding to his present

-position of head of the family and squire of Rudge Hall, Lester Carmody

-had contrived to put away in gilt-edged securities a very nice sum

-indeed, the fruit of his labours in the world of business. But it was

-his whim to regard himself as a struggling pauper.

-

-"But all this...." Mr. Molloy indicated with a wave of his hand the

-smiling gardens, the rolling park and the opulent-looking trees

-reflected in the waters of the moat. "Surely this means a barrel of

-money?"

-

-"Everything that comes in goes out again in expenses. There's no end to

-my expenses. Farmers in England to-day sit up at night trying to think

-of new claims they can make against a landlord."

-

-There was another pause.

-

-"That's bad," said Mr. Molloy thoughtfully. "Yes, sir, that's bad."

-

-His commiseration was not all for Mr. Carmody. In fact, very little

-of it was. Most of it was reserved for himself. It began to look, he

-realized, as though in coming to this stately home of England he had

-been simply wasting valuable time. It was not as if he enjoyed staying

-at country houses in a purely æsthetic spirit. On the contrary, a place

-like Rudge Hall afflicted his town-bred nerves. Being in it seemed to

-him like living in the first-act set of an old-fashioned comic opera.

-He always felt that at any moment a band of villagers and retainers

-might dance out and start a drinking chorus.

-

-"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "that must grind you a good deal."

-

-"What must?"

-

-It was not Mr. Carmody who had spoken, but his guest's attractive

-young wife, who, having returned from the village, had come up from

-the direction of the rose garden. From afar she had observed her

-husband spreading his hands in broad, persuasive gestures, and from

-her knowledge of him had gathered that he had embarked on one of those

-high-pressure sales talks of his which did so much to keep the wolf

-from the door. Then she had seen a shadow fall athwart his fine face,

-and, scenting a hitch in the negotiations, had hurried up to lend

-wifely assistance.

-

-"What must grind him?" she asked.

-

-Mr. Molloy kept nothing from his bride.

-

-"I was offering our host here a block of those Silver River shares...."

-

-"Oh, you aren't going to sell Silver Rivers!" cried Mrs. Molloy in

-pretty concern. "Why, you've always told me they're the biggest thing

-you've got."

-

-"So they are. But...."

-

-"Oh, well," said Dolly with a charming smile, "seeing it's Mr. Carmody.

-I wouldn't mind Mr. Carmody having them."

-

-"Nor would I," said Mr. Molloy sincerely. "But he can't afford to buy."

-

-"What!"

-

-"You tell her," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-Mr. Carmody told her. He was never averse to speaking of the

-unfortunate position in which the modern owner of English land found

-himself.

-

-"Well, I don't get it," said Dolly, shaking her head. "You call

-yourself a poor man. How can you be poor, when that gallery place you

-showed us round yesterday is jam full of pictures worth a fortune an

-inch and tapestries and all those gold coins?"

-

-"Heirlooms."

-

-"How's that?"

-

-"They're heirlooms," said Mr. Carmody bitterly.

-

-He always felt bitter when he thought of the Rudge Hall heirlooms. He

-looked upon them as a mean joke played on him by a gang of sardonic

-ancestors.

-

-To a man, lacking both reverence for family traditions and appreciation

-of the beautiful in art, who comes into possession of an ancient house

-and its contents, there must always be something painfully ironical

-about heirlooms. To such a man they are simply so much potential wealth

-which is being allowed to lie idle, doing no good to anybody. Mr.

-Carmody had always had that feeling very strongly.

-

-Unlike the majority of heirs, he had not been trained from boyhood

-to revere the home of his ancestors, and to look forward to its

-possession as a sacred trust. He had been the second son of a second

-son, and his chance of ever succeeding to the property was at the

-outset so remote that he had seldom given it a thought. He had gone

-into business at an early age, and when, in middle life, a series of

-accidents made him squire of Rudge Hall, he had brought with him to the

-place a practical eye and the commercial outlook. The result was that

-when he walked in the picture gallery and thought how much solid cash

-he could get for this Velasquez or that Gainsborough, if only he were

-given a free hand, the iron entered into Lester Carmody's soul.

-

-"They're heirlooms," he said. "I can't sell them."

-

-"How come? They're yours, aren't they?"

-

-"No," said Mr. Carmody, "they belong to the estate."

-

-On Mr. Molloy, as he listened to his host's lengthy exposition of the

-laws governing heirlooms, there descended a deepening cloud of gloom.

-You couldn't, it appeared, dispose of the darned things without the

-consent of trustees; while even if the trustees gave their consent

-they collared the money and invested it on behalf of the estate. And

-Mr. Molloy, though ordinarily a man of sanguine temperament, could not

-bring himself to believe that a hard-boiled bunch of trustees, most of

-them probably lawyers with tight lips and suspicious minds, would ever

-have the sporting spirit to take a flutter in Silver River Ordinaries.

-

-"Hell!" said Mr. Molloy with a good deal of feeling.

-

-Dolly linked her arm in his with a pretty gesture of affectionate

-solicitude.

-

-"Poor old Pop!" she said. "He's all broken up about this."

-

-Mr. Carmody regarded his guest sourly.

-

-"What's he got to worry about?" he asked with a certain resentment.

-

-"Why, Pop was sort of hoping he'd be able to buy all this stuff," said

-Dolly. "He was telling me only this morning that, if you felt like

-selling, he would write you out his cheque for whatever you wanted

-without thinking twice."

-

-

-                                   V

-

-Moodily scanning his wife's face during Mr. Carmody's lecture on

-Heirloom Law, Mr. Molloy had observed it suddenly light up in a manner

-which suggested that some pleasing thought was passing through her

-always agile brain; but, presented now in words, this thought left him

-decidedly cold. He could not see any sense in it.

-

-"For the love of Pete...!" began Mr. Molloy.

-

-His bride had promised to love, honour, and obey him, but she had never

-said anything about taking any notice of him when he tried to butt in

-on her moments of inspiration. She ignored the interruption.

-

-"You see," she said, "Pop collects old junk--I mean antiques and all

-like that. Over in America he's got a great big museum place full of

-stuff. He's going to present it to the nation when he hands in his

-dinner pail. Aren't you, Pop?"

-

-It became apparent to Mr. Molloy that at the back of his wife's mind

-there floated some idea at which, handicapped by his masculine slowness

-of wit, he could not guess. It was plain to him, however, that she

-expected him to do his bit, so he did it.

-

-"You betcher," he said.

-

-"How much would you say all that stuff in your museum was worth, Pop?"

-

-Mr. Molloy was still groping in outer darkness, but he persevered.

-

-"Oo," he said, "worth? Call it a million.... Two millions.... Three,

-maybe."

-

-"You see," explained Dolly, "the place is so full up, he doesn't really

-know what he's got. But Pierpont Morgan offered you a million for the

-pictures alone, didn't he?"

-

-Now that figures had crept into the conversation, Mr. Molloy was

-feeling more at his ease. He liked figures.

-

-"You're thinking of Jake Shubert, honey," he said. "It was the

-tapestries that Pierp. wanted. And it wasn't a million, it was seven

-hundred thousand. I laughed in his face. I asked him if he thought

-he was trying to buy cheese sandwiches at the delicatessen store or

-something. Pierp. was sore." Mr. Molloy shook his head regretfully,

-and you could see he was thinking that it was too bad that his little

-joke should have caused a coolness between himself and an old friend.

-"But, great guns!" he said, in defence of his attitude. "Seven hundred

-thousand! Did he think I wanted carfare?"

-

-Mr. Carmody's always rather protuberant eyes had been bulging farther

-and farther out of their sockets all through this exchange of remarks,

-and now they reached the farthest point possible and stayed there.

-His breath was coming in little gasps, and his fingers twitched

-convulsively. He was suffering the extreme of agony.

-

-It was all very well for a man like Mr. Molloy to speak sneeringly of

-$700,000. To most people--and Mr. Carmody was one of them--$700,000 is

-quite a nice little sum. Mr. Molloy, if he saw $700,000 lying in the

-gutter, might not think it worth his while to stoop and pick it up,

-but Mr. Carmody could not imitate that proud detachment. The thought

-that he had as his guest at Rudge a man who combined with a bottomless

-purse a taste for antiquities and that only the imbecile laws relating

-to heirlooms prevented them consummating a deal racked him from head to

-foot.

-

-"How much would you have given Mr. Carmody for all those pictures and

-things he showed us yesterday?" asked Dolly, twisting the knife in the

-wound.

-

-Mr. Molloy spread his hands carelessly.

-

-"Two hundred thousand ... three ... we wouldn't have quarrelled about

-the price. But what's the use of talking? He can't sell 'em."

-

-"Why can't he?"

-

-"Well, how can he?"

-

-"I'll tell you how. Fake a burglary."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Sure. Have the things stolen and slipped over to you without anybody

-knowing, and then you hand him your cheque for two hundred thousand or

-whatever it is, and you're happy and he's happy and everybody's happy.

-And, what's more, I guess all this stuff is insured, isn't it? Well

-then, Mr. Carmody can stick to the insurance money, and he's that much

-up besides whatever he gets from you."

-

-There was a silence. Dolly had said her say, and Mr. Molloy felt for

-the moment incapable of speech. That he had not been mistaken in

-supposing that his wife had a scheme at the back of her head was now

-plain, but, as outlined, it took his breath away. Considered purely

-as a scheme, he had not a word to say against it. It was commercially

-sound and did credit to the ingenuity of one whom he had always

-regarded as the slickest thinker of her sex. But it was not the sort of

-scheme, he considered, which ought to have emanated from the presumably

-innocent and unspotted daughter of a substantial Oil millionaire. It

-was calculated, he felt, to create in their host's mind doubts and

-misgivings as to the sort of people he was entertaining.

-

-He need have no such apprehension. It was not righteous disapproval

-that was holding Mr. Carmody dumb.

-

-It has been laid down by an acute thinker that there is a subtle

-connection between felony and fat. Almost all embezzlers, for instance,

-says this authority, are fat men. Whether this is or is not true,

-the fact remains that the sensational criminality of the suggestion

-just made to him awoke no horror in Mr. Carmody's ample bosom. He

-was startled, as any man might be who had this sort of idea sprung

-suddenly on him in his own garden, but he was not shocked. A youth and

-middle age spent on the London Stock Exchange had left Lester Carmody

-singularly broad-minded. He had to a remarkable degree that specious

-charity which allows a man to look indulgently on any financial

-project, however fishy, provided he can see a bit in it for himself.

-

-"It's money for nothing," urged Dolly, misinterpreting his silence.

-"The stuff isn't doing any good, just lying around the way it is now.

-And it isn't as if it didn't really belong to you. All what you were

-saying awhile back about the law is simply mashed potatoes. The things

-belong to the house, and the house belongs to you, so where's the harm

-in your selling them? Who's supposed to get them after you?"

-

-Mr. Carmody withdrew his gaze from the middle distance.

-

-"Eh? Oh. My nephew Hugo."

-

-"Well, you aren't worrying about him?"

-

-Mr. Carmody was not. What he was worrying about was the practicability

-of the thing. Could it, he was asking himself, be put safely through

-without the risk, so distasteful to a man of sensibility, of landing

-him for a lengthy term of years in a prison cell? It was on this aspect

-of the matter that he now touched.

-

-"It wouldn't be safe," he said, and few men since the world began have

-ever spoken more wistfully. "We would be found out."

-

-"Not a chance. Who would find out? Who's going to say anything? You're

-not. I'm not. Pop's not."

-

-"You bet your life Pop's not," asserted Mr. Molloy.

-

-Mr. Carmody gazed out over the waters of the moat. His brain, quickened

-by the stimulating prospect of money for nothing, detected another

-doubtful point.

-

-"Who would take the things?"

-

-"You mean get them out of the house?"

-

-"Exactly. Somebody would have to take them. It would be necessary to

-create the appearance of an actual burglary."

-

-"Well, there'll be an actual burglary."

-

-"But whom could we trust in such a vital matter?"

-

-"That's all right. Pop's got a friend, another millionaire like

-himself, who would put this thing through just for the fun of it, to

-oblige Pop. You could trust him."

-

-"Who?" asked Mr. Molloy, plainly surprised that any friend of his could

-be trusted.

-

-"Chimp," said Dolly briefly.

-

-"Oh, Chimp," said Mr. Molloy, his face clearing. "Yes, Chimp would do

-it."

-

-"Who," asked Mr. Carmody, "is Chimp?"

-

-"A good friend of mine. You wouldn't know him."

-

-Mr. Carmody scratched at the gravel with his toe, and for a long minute

-there was silence in the garden. Mr. Molloy looked at Mrs. Molloy.

-Mrs. Molloy looked at Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy closed his left eye for

-a fractional instant, and in response Mrs. Molloy permitted her right

-eyelid to quiver. But, perceiving that this was one of the occasions on

-which a strong man wishes to be left alone to commune with his soul,

-they forebore to break in upon his reverie with jarring speech.

-

-"Well, I'll think it over," said Mr. Carmody.

-

-"Atta-boy!" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Sure. You take a nice walk around the block all by yourself," advised

-Mrs. Molloy, "and then come back and issue a bulletin."

-

-Mr. Carmody moved away, pondering deeply, and Mr. Molloy turned to his

-wife.

-

-"What made you think of Chimp?" he asked doubtfully.

-

-"Well, he's the only guy on this side that we really know. We can't

-pick and choose, same as if we were in New York."

-

-Mr. Molloy eyed the moat with a thoughtful frown.

-

-"Well, I'll tell you, honey. I'm not so darned sure that I sort of kind

-of like bringing Chimp into a thing like this. You know what he is--as

-slippery as an eel that's been rubbed all over with axle grease. He

-might double-cross us."

-

-"Not if we double-cross him first."

-

-"But could we?"

-

-"Sure we could. And, anyway, it's Chimp or no one. This isn't the sort

-of affair you can just go out into the street and pick up the first

-man you run into. It's a job where you've got to have somebody you've

-worked with before."

-

-"All right, baby. If you say so. You always were the brains of the

-firm. If you think it's kayo, then it's all right by me and no more to

-be said. Cheese it! Here's his nibs back again."

-

-Mr. Carmody was coming up the gravel path, his air that of a man who

-has made a great decision. He had evidently been following a train of

-thought, for he began abruptly at the point to which it had led him.

-

-"There's only one thing," he said. "I don't like the idea of bringing

-in this friend of yours. He may be all right or he may not. You say you

-can trust him, but it seems to me the fewer people who know about this

-business, the better."

-

-These were Mr. Molloy's sentiments, also. He would vastly have

-preferred to keep it a nice, cosy affair among the three of them. But

-it was no part of his policy to ignore obvious difficulties.

-

-"I'd like that, too," he said. "I don't want to call in Chimp any more

-than you do. But there's this thing of getting the stuff out of the

-house."

-

-"What you were saying just now," Mrs. Molloy reminded Mr. Carmody.

-"It's got to look like an outside job, what I mean."

-

-"As it's called," said Mr. Molloy hastily. "She's always reading these

-detective stories," he explained. "That's where she picks up these

-expressions. Outside job, ha, ha! But she's dead right, at that. You

-said yourself it would be necessary to create the appearance of an

-actual burglary. If we don't get Chimp, who is going to take the stuff?"

-

-"I am."

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"I am," repeated Mr. Carmody stoutly. "I have been thinking the whole

-matter out, and it will be perfectly simple. I shall get up very early

-to-morrow morning and enter the picture gallery through the window by

-means of a ladder. This will deceive the police into supposing the

-theft to have been the work of a professional burglar."

-

-Mr. Molloy was regarding him with affectionate admiration.

-

-"I never knew you were such a hot sketch!" said Mr. Molloy. "You

-certainly are one smooth citizen. Looks to me as if you'd done this

-sort of thing before."

-

-"Wear gloves," advised Mrs. Molloy.

-

-"What she means," said Mr. Molloy, again speaking with a certain

-nervous haste, "is that the first thing the bulls--as the expression

-is--they always call the police bulls in these detective stories--the

-first thing the police look for is fingerprints. The fellows in the

-books always wear gloves."

-

-"A very sensible precaution," said Mr. Carmody, now thoroughly in the

-spirit of the thing. "I am glad you mentioned it. I shall make a point

-of doing so."

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER VI

-

-

-                                   I

-

-The picture gallery of Rudge Hall, the receptacle of what Mrs. Soapy

-Molloy had called the antiques and all like that, was situated on the

-second floor of that historic edifice. To Mr. Carmody, at five-thirty

-on the following morning, as he propped against the broad sill of the

-window facing the moat a ladder, which he had discovered in one of the

-barns, it looked much higher. He felt, as he gazed upward, like an

-inexpert Jack about to mount the longest bean stalk on record.

-

-Even as a boy, Lester Carmody had never been a great climber. While

-his young companions, reckless of risk to life and limb, had swarmed

-to the top of apple trees, Mr. Carmody had preferred to roam about on

-solid ground, hunting in the grass for windfalls. He had always hated

-heights, and this morning found him more prejudiced against them than

-ever. It says much for crime as a wholesome influence in a man's life

-that the lure of the nefarious job which he had undertaken should

-have induced him eventually after much hesitation to set foot on the

-ladder's lowest rung. Nothing but a single-minded desire to do down an

-innocent insurance company could have lent him the necessary courage.

-

-Mind having triumphed over matter to this extent, Mr. Carmody found

-the going easier. Carefully refraining from looking down, he went

-doggedly upward. Only the sound of his somewhat stertorous breathing

-broke the hushed stillness of the summer morning. As far as the weather

-was concerned, it was the start of a perfect day. But Mr. Carmody paid

-no attention to the sunbeams creeping over the dewy grass, nor, when

-the quiet was broken by the first piping of birds, did he pause to

-listen. He had not, he considered, time for that sort of thing. He was

-to have ample leisure later, but of this he was not aware.

-

-He continued to climb, using the extreme of caution--a method which,

-while it helped to ease his mind, necessarily rendered progress slow.

-Before long, he was suffering from a feeling that he had been climbing

-this ladder all his life. The thing seemed to have no end. He was now,

-he felt, at such a distance from the earth that he wondered the air was

-not more rarefied, and it appeared incredible to him that he should not

-long since have reached the window sill.

-

-Looking up at this point, a thing he had not dared to do before, he

-found that steady perseverance had brought about its usual result. The

-sill was only a few inches above his head, and with the realization

-of this fact there came to him something that was almost a careless

-jauntiness. He quickened his pace, and treading heavily on an upper

-rung snapped it in two as if it had been matchwood.

-

-When this accident occurred, he had been on a level with the sill and

-just about to step warily on to it. The effect of the breaking of the

-rung was to make him execute this movement at about fifteen times the

-speed which he had contemplated. There was a moment in which the whole

-universe seemed to dissolve, and then he was on the sill, his fingers

-clinging with a passionate grip to a small piece of lead piping that

-protruded from the wall and his legs swinging dizzily over the abyss.

-The ladder, urged outward by his last frenzied kick, tottered for an

-instant, then fell to the ground.

-

-The events just described, though it seemed longer to the principal

-actor in them, had occupied perhaps six seconds. They left Mr. Carmody

-in a world that jumped and swam before his eyes, feeling as though

-somebody had extracted his heart and replaced it with some kind of

-lively firework. This substitute, whatever it was, appeared to be

-fizzing and leaping inside his chest, and its gyrations interfered with

-his breathing. For some minutes his only conscious thought was that he

-felt extremely ill. Then becoming by slow degrees more composed, he was

-enabled to examine the situation.

-

-It was not a pleasant one. At first, it had been agreeable enough

-simply to allow his mind to dwell on the fact that he was alive and in

-one piece. But now, probing beneath this mere surface aspect of the

-matter, he perceived that, taking the most conservative estimate, he

-must acknowledge himself to be in a peculiarly awkward position.

-

-The hour was about a quarter to six. He was thirty feet or so above the

-ground. And, though reason told him that the window sill on which he

-sat was thoroughly solid and quite capable of bearing a much heavier

-weight, he could not rid himself of the feeling that at any moment it

-might give way and precipitate him into the depths.

-

-Of course, looked at in the proper spirit, his predicament had all

-sorts of compensations. The medical profession is agreed that there is

-nothing better for the health than the fresh air of the early morning:

-and this he was in a position to drink into his lungs in unlimited

-quantities. Furthermore, nobody could have been more admirably situated

-than he to compile notes for one of those Country Life articles which

-are so popular with the readers of daily papers.

-

-"As I sit on my second-floor window sill and gaze about me," Mr.

-Carmody ought to have been saying to himself, "I see Dame Nature busy

-about her morning tasks. Everything in my peaceful garden is growing

-and blowing. Here I note that most gem-like of all annuals, the African

-nemesia with its brilliant ruby and turquoise tints; there the lovely

-tangle of blue, purple, and red formed by the blending shades of

-delphiniums, Canterbury bells, and the popular geum. Birds, too, are

-chanting everywhere their morning anthems. I see the Jay (_Garrulus

-Glandarius Rufitergum_), the _Corvus Monedula Spermologus_ or Jackdaw,

-the Sparrow (better known, perhaps, to some of my readers as _Prunella

-Modularis Occidentalis_) and many others...."

-

-But Mr. Carmody's reflections did not run on these lines. It was

-with a gloomy and hostile eye that he regarded the grass, the trees,

-the flowers, the birds and dew that lay like snow upon the turf: and

-of all these, it was possibly the birds that he disliked most. They

-were an appalling crowd--noisy, fussy, and bustling about with a

-sort of overdone heartiness that seemed to Mr. Carmody affected and

-offensive. They got on his nerves and stayed there: and outstanding

-among the rest in general lack of charm was a certain Dartford Warbler

-(_Melizophilus Undatus Dartfordiensis_) which, instead of staying in

-Dartford, where it belonged, had come all the way up to Worcestershire

-simply, it appeared, for the purpose of adding to his discomfort.

-

-This creature, flaunting a red waistcoat which might have been all

-right for a frosty day in winter but on a summer morning seemed

-intolerably loud and struck the jarring note of a Fair Isle sweater in

-the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, arrived at five minutes past six and,

-sitting down on the edge of Mr. Carmody's window sill, looked long and

-earnestly at that unfortunate man with its head cocked on one side.

-

-"This can't be real," said the Dartford Warbler in a low voice.

-

-It then flew away and did some rough work among the insects under a

-bush. At six-ten it returned.

-

-"It is real," it soliloquized. "But if real, what is it?"

-

-Pondering this problem, it returned to its meal, and Mr. Carmody was

-left for some considerable time to his meditations. It may have been

-about twenty-five minutes to seven when a voice at his elbow aroused

-him once more. The Dartford Warbler was back again, its eye now a

-little glazed and wearing the replete look of the bird that has done

-itself well at the breakfast table.

-

-"And why?" mused the Dartford Warbler, resuming at the point where he

-had left off.

-

-To Mr. Carmody, conscious now of a devouring hunger, the spectacle of

-this bloated bird was the last straw. He struck out at it in a spasm

-of irritation and nearly overbalanced. The Warbler uttered a shrill

-exclamation of terror and disappeared, looking like an absconding

-bookmaker. Mr. Carmody huddled back against the window, palpitating.

-And more time passed.

-

-It was at half-past seven, when he was beginning to feel that he had

-not tasted food since boyhood, that there sounded from somewhere below

-on his right a shrill whistling.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-He looked cautiously down. It gave him acute vertigo to do so, but he

-braved this in his desire to see. Since his vigil began, he had heard

-much whistling. In addition to the _Garrulus Glandarius Rufitergum_

-and the _Corvus Monedula Spermologus_, he had been privileged for the

-last hour or so to listen to a concert featuring such artists as the

-_Dryobates Major Anglicus_, the _Sturnus Vulgaris_, the _Emberiza

-Curlus_, and the _Muscicapa Striata_, or Spotted Flycatcher: and, a

-moment before, he would have said that in the matter of whistling he

-had had all he wanted. But this latest outburst sounded human. It

-stirred in his bosom something approaching hope.

-

-So Mr. Carmody, craning his neck, waited: and presently round the

-corner of the house, a towel about his shoulders, suggesting that he

-was on his way to take an early morning dip in the moat, came his

-nephew Hugo.

-

-Mr. Carmody, as this chronicle has shown, had never entertained for

-Hugo quite that warmth of affection which one likes to see in an uncle

-toward his nearest of kin, but at the present moment he could not have

-appreciated him more if he had been a millionaire anxious to put up

-capital for a new golf course in the park.

-

-"Hoy!" he cried, much as the beleaguered garrison of Lucknow must have

-done to the advance guard of the relieving Highlanders. "Hoy!"

-

-Hugo stopped. He looked to his right, then to his left, then in front

-of him, and then, turning, behind him. It was a spectacle that chilled

-in an instant the new sensation of kindness which his uncle had been

-feeling toward him.

-

-"Hoy!" cried Mr. Carmody. "Hugo! Confound the boy! Hugo!"

-

-For the first time the other looked up. Perceiving Mr. Carmody in his

-eyrie, he stood rigid, gazing with opened mouth. He might have been

-posing for a statue of Young Man Startled By Snake in Path While About

-to Bathe.

-

-"Great Scot!" said Hugo, looking to his uncle's prejudiced eye exactly

-like the Dartford Warbler. "What on earth are you doing up there?"

-

-Mr. Carmody would have writhed in irritation, had not prudence reminded

-him that he was thirty feet too high in the air to do that sort of

-thing.

-

-"Never mind what I'm doing up here! Help me down."

-

-"How did you get there?"

-

-"Never mind how I got here!"

-

-"But what," persisted Hugo insatiably, "is the big--or general--idea?"

-

-Withheld from the relief of writhing, Mr. Carmody gritted his teeth.

-

-"Put that ladder up," he said in a strained voice.

-

-"Ladder?"

-

-"Yes, ladder."

-

-"What ladder?"

-

-"There is a ladder on the ground."

-

-"Where?"

-

-"There. No, not there. There. There. Not there, I tell you. There.

-There."

-

-Hugo, following these directions, concluded a successful search.

-

-"Right," he said. "Ladder, long, wooden, for purposes of climbing, one.

-Correct as per memo. Now what?"

-

-"Put it up."

-

-"Right."

-

-"And hold it very carefully."

-

-"Esteemed order booked," said Hugo. "Carry on."

-

-"Are you sure you are holding it carefully?"

-

-"As in a vise."

-

-"Well, don't let go."

-

-Mr. Carmody, dying a considerable number of deaths in the process,

-descended. He found his nephew's curiosity at close range even more

-acute than it had been from a distance.

-

-"What on earth were you doing up there?" said Hugo, starting again at

-the beginning.

-

-"Never mind."

-

-"But what were you?"

-

-"If you wish to know, a rung broke and the ladder slipped."

-

-"But what were you doing on a ladder?"

-

-"Never mind!" cried Mr. Carmody, regretting more bitterly than ever

-before in his life that his late brother Eustace had not lived and died

-a bachelor. "Don't keep saying What--What--What!"

-

-"Well, why?" said Hugo, conceding the point. "Why were you climbing

-ladders?"

-

-Mr. Carmody hesitated. His native intelligence returning, he perceived

-now that this was just what the great public would want to know. It was

-little use urging a human talking machine like his nephew to keep quiet

-and say nothing about this incident. In a couple of hours it would be

-all over Rudge. He thought swiftly.

-

-"I fancied I saw a swallow's nest under the eaves."

-

-"Swallow's nest?"

-

-"Swallow's nest. The nest," said Mr. Carmody between his teeth, "of a

-swallow."

-

-"Did you think swallows nested in July?"

-

-"Why shouldn't they?"

-

-"Well, they don't."

-

-"I never said they did. I merely said...."

-

-"No swallow has ever nested in July."

-

-"I never...."

-

-"April," said our usually well-informed correspondent.

-

-"What?"

-

-"April. Swallows nest in April."

-

-"Damn all swallows!" said Mr. Carmody. And there was silence for a

-moment, while Hugo directed his keen young mind to other aspects of

-this strange affair.

-

-"How long had you been up there?"

-

-"I don't know. Hours. Since half-past five."

-

-"Half-past five? You mean you got up at half-past five to look for

-swallows' nests in July?"

-

-"I did not get up to look for swallows' nests."

-

-"But you said you were looking for swallows' nests."

-

-"I did not say I was looking for swallows' nests. I merely said I

-fancied I saw a swallow's nest...."

-

-"You couldn't have done. Swallows don't nest in July.... April."

-

-The sun was peeping over the elms. Mr. Carmody raised his clenched

-fists to it.

-

-"I did not say I saw a swallow's nest. I said I thought I saw a

-swallow's nest."

-

-"And got a ladder out and climbed up for it?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Having risen from couch at five-thirty ante meridian?"

-

-"Will you kindly stop asking me all these questions."

-

-Hugo regarded him thoughtfully.

-

-"Just as you like, Uncle. Well, anything further this morning? If not,

-I'll be getting along and taking my dip."

-

-

-                                  III

-

-"I say, Ronnie," said Hugo, some two hours later, meeting his friend en

-route for the breakfast table. "You know my uncle?"

-

-"What about him?"

-

-"He's loopy."

-

-"What?"

-

-"Gone clean off his castors. I found him at seven o'clock this morning

-sitting on a second-floor window sill. He said he'd got up at

-five-thirty to look for swallows' nests."

-

-"Bad," said Mr. Fish, shaking his head with even more than his usual

-solemnity. "Second-floor window sill, did you say?"

-

-"Second-floor window sill."

-

-"Exactly how my aunt started," said Ronnie Fish.

-

-"They found her sitting on the roof of the stables, playing the ukulele

-in a blue dressing gown. She said she was Boadicea. And she wasn't.

-That's the point, old boy," said Mr. Fish earnestly. "She wasn't. We

-must get you out of this as quickly as possible, or before you know

-where you are you'll find yourself being murdered in your bed. It's

-this living in the country that does it. Six consecutive months in the

-country is enough to sap the intellect of anyone. Looking for swallows'

-nests, was he?"

-

-"So he said. And swallows don't nest in July. They nest in April."

-

-Mr. Fish nodded.

-

-"That's how I always heard the story," he agreed. "The whole thing

-looks very black to me, and the sooner you're safe out of this and in

-London, the better."

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-At about the same moment, Mr. Carmody was in earnest conference with

-Mr. Molloy.

-

-"That man you were telling me about," said Mr. Carmody. "That friend of

-yours who you said would help us."

-

-"Chimp?"

-

-"I believe you referred to him as Chimp. How soon could you get in

-touch with him?"

-

-"Right away, brother."

-

-Mr. Carmody objected to being called brother, but this was no time for

-being finicky.

-

-"Send for him at once."

-

-"Why, have you given up the idea of getting that stuff out of the house

-yourself?"

-

-"Entirely," said Mr. Carmody. He shuddered slightly. "I have been

-thinking the matter over very carefully, and I feel that this is an

-affair where we require the services of some third party. Where is this

-friend of yours? In London?"

-

-"No. He's right around the corner. His name's Twist. He runs a sort of

-health-farm place only a few miles from here."

-

-"God bless my soul! Healthward Ho?"

-

-"That's the spot. Do you know it?"

-

-"Why, I have only just returned from there."

-

-Mr. Molloy was conscious of a feeling of almost incredulous awe. It

-was the sort of feeling which would come to a man who saw miracles

-happening all around him. He could hardly believe that things could

-possibly run as smoothly as they appeared to be doing. He had

-anticipated a certain amount of difficulty in selling Chimp Twist to

-Mr. Carmody, as he phrased it to himself, and had looked forward with

-not a little apprehension to a searching inquisition into Chimp Twist's

-_bona fides_. And now, it seemed, Mr. Carmody knew Chimp personally and

-was, no doubt, prepared to receive him without a question. Could luck

-like this hold? That was the only thought that disturbed Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Well, isn't that interesting!" he said slowly. "So you know my old

-friend Twist, do you?"

-

-"Yes," said Mr. Carmody, speaking, however, as if the acquaintanceship

-were not one to which he looked back with any pleasure. "I know him

-very well."

-

-"Fine!" said Mr. Molloy. "You see, if I thought we were getting in

-somebody you knew nothing about and felt you couldn't trust, it would

-sort of worry me."

-

-Mr. Carmody made no comment on this evidence of his guest's nice

-feeling. He was meditating and did not hear it. What he was meditating

-on was the agreeable fact that money which he had been trying so vainly

-to recover from Doctor Twist would not be a dead loss after all. He

-could write if off as part of the working expenses of this little

-venture. He beamed happily at Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Healthward Ho is on the telephone," he said. "Go and speak to Doctor

-Twist now and ask him to come over here at once." He hesitated for a

-moment, then came bravely to a decision. After all, whatever the cost

-in petrol, oil, and depreciation of tires, it was for a good object.

-More working expenses. "I will send my car for him," he said.

-

-If you wish to accumulate, you must inevitably speculate, felt Mr.

-Carmody.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER VII

-

-

-                                   I

-

-The strange depression which had come upon Pat in the shop of Chas.

-Bywater did not yield, as these gray moods generally do, to the

-curative influence of time. The following morning found her as gloomy

-as ever--indeed, rather gloomier, for shortly after breakfast the

-_noblesse oblige_ spirit of the Wyverns had sent her on a reluctant

-visit to an old retainer who lived--if you could call it that--in one

-of the smaller and stuffier houses in Budd Street. Pensioned off after

-cooking for the Colonel for eighteen years, this female had retired

-to bed and stayed there, and there was a legend in the family, though

-neither by word nor look did she ever give any indication of it, that

-she enjoyed seeing Pat.

-

-Bedridden ladies of advanced age seldom bubble over with fun and _joie

-de vivre_. This one's attitude toward life seemed to have been borrowed

-from her favourite light reading, the works of the Prophet Jeremiah,

-and Pat, as she emerged into the sunshine after some eighty minutes of

-her society, was feeling rather like Jeremiah's younger sister.

-

-The sense of being in a world unworthy of her--a world cold and

-unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade of human being, had now

-become so oppressive that she was compelled to stop on her way home

-and linger on the old bridge which spanned the Skirme. From the days

-of her childhood this sleepy, peaceful spot had always been a haven

-when things went wrong. She was gazing down into the slow-moving water

-and waiting for it to exercise its old spell, when she heard her name

-spoken and turned to see Hugo.

-

-"What ho," said Hugo, pausing beside her. His manner was genial and

-unconcerned. He had not met her since that embarrassing scene in the

-lobby of the Hotel Lincoln, but he was a man on whom the memory of past

-embarrassments sat lightly. "What do you think you're doing, young Pat?"

-

-Pat found herself cheering up a little. She liked Hugo. The sense of

-being all alone in a bleak world left her.

-

-"Nothing in particular," she said. "Just looking at the water."

-

-"Which in its proper place," agreed Hugo, "is admirable stuff. I've

-been doing a bit of froth-blowing at the Carmody Arms. Also buying

-cigarettes and other necessaries. I say, have you heard about my Uncle

-Lester's brain coming unstuck? Absolutely. He's quite _non compos_.

-Mad as a coot. Belfry one seething mass of bats. He's taken to climbing

-ladders in the small hours after swallows' nests. However, shelving

-that for the moment, I'm very glad I ran into you this morning, young

-Pat. I wish to have a serious talk with you about old John."

-

-"John?"

-

-"John."

-

-"What about John?"

-

-At this moment there whirred past, bearing in its interior a weedy,

-snub-nosed man with a waxed moustache, a large red automobile. Hugo,

-suspending his remarks, followed it with astonished eyes.

-

-"Good Lord!"

-

-"What about Johnnie?"

-

-"That was the Dex-Mayo," said Hugo. "And the gargoyle inside was that

-blighter Twist from Healthward Ho. Great Scott! The car must have been

-over there to fetch him."

-

-"What's so remarkable about that?"

-

-"What's so remarkable?" echoed Hugo, astounded. "What's remarkable

-about Uncle Lester deliberately sending his car twenty miles to fetch

-a man who could have come, if he had to come at all, by train at his

-own expense? My dear old thing, it's revolutionary. It marks an epoch.

-Do you know what I think has happened? You remember that dynamite

-explosion in the park when Uncle Lester nearly got done in?"

-

-"I don't have much chance to forget it."

-

-"Well, what I believe has happened is that the shock he got that day

-has completely changed his nature. It's a well-known thing. You hear

-of such cases all the time. Ronnie Fish was telling me about one only

-yesterday. There was a man he knew in London, a money lender, a fellow

-who had a glass eye, and the only thing that enabled anyone to tell

-which of his eyes was which was that the glass one had rather a more

-human expression than the other. That's the sort of chap he was. Well,

-one day he was nearly konked in a railway accident, and he came out of

-hospital a different man. Slapped people on the back, patted children

-on the head, tore up I.O.U.'s, and talked about its being everybody's

-duty to make the world a better place. Take it from me, young Pat,

-Uncle Lester's whole nature has undergone some sort of rummy change

-like that. That swallow's nest business must have been a preliminary

-symptom. Ronnie tells me that this money lender with the glass eye...."

-

-Pat was not interested in glass-eyed money lenders.

-

-"What were you saying about John?"

-

-"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going home quick, so as to be

-among those present when he starts scattering the stuff. It's quite

-on the cards that I may scoop that five hundred yet. Once a tightwad

-starts seeing the light...."

-

-"You were saying something about John," said Pat, falling into step

-with him as he moved off. His babble irked her, making her wish that

-she could put the clock back a few years. Age, they say, has its

-compensations, but one of the drawbacks of becoming grown-up and

-sedate is that you have to abandon the childish practice of clumping

-your friends on the side of the head when they wander from the point.

-However, she was not too old to pinch her companion in the fleshy part

-of the arm, and she did so.

-

-"Ouch!" said Hugo, coming out of his trance.

-

-"What about John?"

-

-Hugo massaged his arm tenderly. The look of a greyhound pursuing an

-electric hare died out of his eyes.

-

-"Of course, yes. John. Glad you reminded me. Have you seen John lately?"

-

-"No. I'm not allowed to go to the Hall, and he seems too busy to come

-and see me."

-

-"It isn't so much being busy. Don't forget there's a war on. No doubt

-he's afraid of bumping into the parent."

-

-"If Johnnie's scared of Father...."

-

-"There's no need to speak in that contemptuous tone. I am, and there

-are few more intrepid men alive than Hugo Carmody. The old Colonel,

-believe me, is a tough baby. If I ever see him, I shall run like a

-rabbit, and my biographers may make of it what they will. You, being

-his daughter and having got accustomed to his ways, probably look on

-him as something quite ordinary and harmless, but even you will admit

-that he's got eyebrows which must be seen to be believed."

-

-"Oh, never mind Father's eyebrows. Go on about Johnnie."

-

-"Right ho. Well, then, look here, young Pat," said Hugo, earnestly,

-"in the interests of the aforesaid John, I want to ask you a favour. I

-understand he proposed to you that night at the Mustard Spoon."

-

-"Well?"

-

-"And you slipped him the mitten."

-

-"Well?"

-

-"Oh, don't think I'm blaming you," Hugo assured her. "If you don't

-want him, you don't. Nothing could be fairer than that. But what I'm

-asking you to do now is to keep clear of the poor chap. If you happen

-to run into him, that can't be helped, but be a sport and do your best

-to avoid him. Don't unsettle him. If you come buzzing round, stirring

-memories of the past and arousing thoughts of Auld Lang Syne and what

-not, that'll unsettle him. It'll take his mind off his job and ...

-well ... unsettle him. And, providing he isn't unsettled, I have strong

-hopes that we may get old John off this season. Do I make myself

-clear?"

-

-Pat kicked viciously at an inoffensive pebble, whose only fault was

-that it happened to be within reach at the moment.

-

-"I suppose what you're trying to break to me in your rambling,

-woollen-headed way is that Johnnie is mooning round that Molloy girl? I

-met her just now in Bywater's, and she told me she was staying at the

-Hall."

-

-"I wouldn't call it mooning," said Hugo thoughtfully, speaking like a

-man who is an expert in these matters and can appraise subtle values.

-"I wouldn't say it had quite reached the mooning stage yet. But I have

-hopes. You see, John is a bloke whom Nature intended for a married man.

-He's a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap who...."

-

-"You needn't go over all that again. I had the pleasure of hearing your

-views on the subject that night in the lobby of the hotel."

-

-"Oh, you did hear?" said Hugo, unabashed. "Well, don't you think I'm

-right?"

-

-"If you mean do I approve of Johnnie marrying Miss Molloy, I certainly

-do not."

-

-"But if you don't want him...."

-

-"It has nothing to do with my wanting him or not wanting him. I don't

-like Miss Molloy."

-

-"Why not?"

-

-"She's flashy."

-

-"I would have said smart."

-

-"I wouldn't." Pat, with an effort, recovered a certain measure of calm.

-Wrangling, she felt, was beneath her. As she could not hit Hugo with

-the basket in which she had carried two pounds of tea, a bunch of

-roses, and a seed cake to her bedridden pensioner, the best thing to do

-was to preserve a ladylike composure. "Anyway, you're probably taking a

-lot for granted. Probably Johnnie isn't in the least attracted by her.

-Has he ever given any sign of it?"

-

-"Sign?" Hugo considered. "It depends what you mean by sign. You know

-what old John is. One of these strong, silent fellows who looks on all

-occasions like a stuffed frog."

-

-"He doesn't."

-

-"Pardon me," said Hugo firmly. "Have you ever seen a stuffed frog?

-Well, I have. I had one for years when I was a kid. And John has

-exactly the same power of expressing emotion. You can't go by what he

-says or the way he looks. You have to keep an eye out for much subtler

-bits of evidence. Now, last night he was explaining the rules of

-cricket to this girl, and answering all her questions on the subject,

-and, as he didn't at any point in the proceeding punch her on the

-nose, one is entitled to deduce, I consider, that he must be strongly

-attracted by her. Ronnie thinks so, too. So what I'm asking you to

-do...."

-

-"Good-bye," said Pat. They had reached the gate of the little drive

-that led to her house, and she turned sharply.

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"Good-bye."

-

-"But just a moment," insisted Hugo. "Will you...."

-

-At this point he stopped in mid-sentence and began to walk quickly up

-the road; and Pat, puzzled to conjecture the reason for so abrupt a

-departure, received illumination a moment later when she saw her father

-coming down the drive. Colonel Wyvern had been dealing murderously with

-snails in the shadow of a bush, and the expression on his face seemed

-to indicate that he would be glad to extend the treatment to Hugo.

-

-He gazed after that officious young man with a steely eye. The second

-post had arrived a short time before, and it had included among a

-number of bills and circulars a letter from his lawyer, in which the

-latter regretfully gave it as his opinion that an action against Mr.

-Lester Carmody in the matter of that dynamite business would not lie.

-To bring such an action would, in the judgment of Colonel Wyvern's

-lawyer, be a waste both of time and money.

-

-The communication was not calculated to sweeten the Colonel's

-temper, nor did the spectacle of his daughter in apparently pleasant

-conversation with one of the enemy help to cheer him up.

-

-"What are you talking about to that fellow?" he demanded. It was rare

-for Colonel Wyvern to be the heavy father, but there are times when

-heaviness in a father is excusable. "Where did you meet him?"

-

-His tone disagreeably affected Pat's already harrowed nerves, but she

-replied to the question equably.

-

-"I met him on the bridge. We were talking about John."

-

-"Well, kindly understand that I don't want you to hold any

-communication whatsoever with that young man or his cousin John or his

-infernal uncle or any of that Hall gang. Is that clear?"

-

-Her father was looking at her as if she were a snail which he had just

-found eating one of his lettuce leaves, but Pat still contrived with

-some difficulty to preserve a pale, saintlike calm.

-

-"Quite clear."

-

-"Very well, then."

-

-There was a silence.

-

-"I've known Johnnie fourteen years," said Pat in a small voice.

-

-"Quite long enough," grunted Colonel Wyvern.

-

-Pat walked on into the house and up the stairs to her room. There,

-having stamped on the basket and reduced it to a state where it would

-never again carry seed cake to ex-cooks, she sat on her bed and stared,

-dry-eyed, at her reflection in the mirror.

-

-What with Dolly Molloy and Hugo and her father, the whole aspect of

-John Carroll seemed to be changing for her. No longer was she able to

-think of him as Poor Old Johnnie. He had the glamour now of something

-unattainable and greatly to be desired. She looked back at a night,

-some centuries ago, when a fool of a girl had refused the offer of this

-superman's love, and shuddered to think what a mess of things girls can

-make.

-

-And she had no one to confide in. The only person who could have

-understood and sympathized with her was Hugo's glass-eyed money lender.

-He knew what it was to change one's outlook.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Mr. Alexander (Chimp) Twist stood with his shoulders against the

-mantelpiece in Mr. Carmody's study and, twirling his waxed moustache

-thoughtfully, listened with an expressionless face to Soapy Molloy's

-synopsis of the events which had led up to his being at the Hall

-that morning. Dolly reclined in a deep armchair. Mr. Carmody was not

-present, having stated that he would prefer to leave the negotiations

-entirely to Mr. Molloy.

-

-Through the open window the sounds and scents of summer poured in, but

-it is unlikely that Chimp Twist was aware of them. He was a man who

-believed in concentration, and his whole attention now was taken up by

-the remarkable facts which his old acquaintance and partner was placing

-before him.

-

-The latter's conversation on the telephone some two hours ago had left

-Chimp Twist with an open mind. He was hopeful, but cautiously hopeful.

-Soapy had insisted that there was a big thing on, but he had reserved

-his enthusiasm until he should learn the details. The thing, he felt,

-might seem big to Soapy, but to Alexander Twist no things were big

-things unless he could see in advance a substantial profit for A. Twist

-in them.

-

-Mr. Molloy, concluding his story, paused for reply. The visitor gave

-his moustache a final twist, and shook his head.

-

-"I don't get it," he said.

-

-Mrs. Molloy straightened herself militantly in her chair. Of all

-masculine defects, she liked slowness of wit least; and she had never

-been a great admirer of Mr. Twist.

-

-"You poor, nut-headed swozzie," she said with heat. "What don't you

-get? It's simple enough, isn't it? What's bothering you?"

-

-"There's a catch somewhere. Why isn't this guy Carmody able to sell the

-things?"

-

-"It's the law, you poor fish. Soapy explained all that."

-

-"Not to me he didn't," said Chimp. "A lot of words fluttered out of

-him, but they didn't explain anything to me. Do you mean to say there's

-a law in this country that says a man can't sell his own property?"

-

-"It isn't his own property." Dolly's voice was shrill with

-exasperation. "The things belong in the family and have to be kept

-there. Does that penetrate, or have we got to use a steam drill? Listen

-here. Old George W. Ancestor starts one of these English families

-going--way back in the year G.X. something. He says to himself, 'I

-can't last forever, and when I go then what? My son Freddie is a good

-boy, handy with the battle axe and okay at mounting his charger, but

-he's like all the rest of these kids--you can't keep him away from the

-hock shop as long as there's anything in the house he can raise money

-on. It begins to look like the moment I'm gone my collection of old

-antiques can kiss itself good-bye.' And then he gets an idea. He has a

-law passed saying that Freddie can use the stuff as long as he lives

-but he can't sell it. And Freddie, when his time comes, he hands the

-law on to his son Archibald, and so on, down the line till you get to

-this here now Carmody. The only way this Carmody can realize on all

-these things is to sit in with somebody who'll pinch them and then salt

-them away somewheres, so that after the cops are out of the house and

-all the fuss has quieted down they can get together and do a deal."

-

-Chimp's face cleared.

-

-"Now I'm hep," he said. "Now I see what you're driving at. Why couldn't

-Soapy have put it like that before? Well, then, what's the idea? I

-sneak in and swipe the stuff. Then what?"

-

-"You salt it away."

-

-"At Healthward Ho?"

-

-"No!" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"No!" said Mrs. Molloy.

-

-It would have been difficult to say which spoke with the greater

-emphasis, and the effect was to create a rather embarrassing silence.

-

-"It isn't that we don't trust you, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, when this

-silence had lasted some little time.

-

-"Oh?" said Mr. Twist, rather distantly.

-

-"It's simply that this bimbo Carmody naturally don't want the stuff to

-go out of the house. He wants it where he can keep an eye on it."

-

-"How are you going to pinch it without taking it out of the house?"

-

-"That's all been fixed. I was talking to him about it this morning

-after I 'phoned you. Here's the idea. You get the stuff and pack it

-away in a suitcase...."

-

-"Stuff that there's only enough of so's you can put it all in a

-suitcase is a hell of a lot of use to anyone," commented Mr. Twist

-disparagingly.

-

-Dolly clutched her temples. Mr. Molloy brushed his hair back from his

-forehead with a despairing gesture.

-

-"Sweet potatoes!" moaned Dolly. "Use your bean, you poor sap, use your

-bean. If you had another brain you'd just have one. A thing hasn't got

-to be the size of the Singer Building to be valuable, has it? I suppose

-if someone offered you a diamond you'd turn it down because it wasn't

-no bigger than a hen's egg."

-

-"Diamond?" Chimp brightened. "Are there diamonds?"

-

-"No, there aren't. But there's pictures and things, any one of them

-worth a packet. Go on, Soapy. Tell him."

-

-Mr. Molloy smoothed his hair and addressed himself to his task once

-more.

-

-"Well, it's like this, Chimpie," he said. "You put the stuff in a

-suitcase and you take it down into the hall where there's a closet

-under the stairs...."

-

-"We'll show you the closet," interjected Dolly.

-

-"Sure we'll show you the closet," said Mr. Molloy generously. "Well,

-you put the suitcase in this closet and you leave it lay there. The

-idea is that later on I give old man Carmody my cheque and he hands it

-over and we take it away."

-

-"He thinks Soapy owns a museum in America," explained Dolly. "He thinks

-Soapy's got all the money in the world."

-

-"Of course, long before the time comes for giving any cheques, we'll

-have got the stuff away."

-

-Mr. Chimp digested this.

-

-"Who's going to buy it when you do get it away?" he asked.

-

-"Oh, gee!" said Dolly. "You know as well as I do there's dozens of

-people on the other side who'll buy it."

-

-"And how are you going to get it away? If it's in a closet in Carmody's

-house and Carmody has the key...?"

-

-"Now there," said Mr. Molloy, with a deferential glance at his wife, as

-if requesting her permission to re-open a delicate subject, "the madam

-and I had a kind of an argument. I wanted to wait till a chance came

-along sort of natural, but Dolly's all for quick action. You know what

-women are. Impetuous."

-

-"If you'd care to know what we're going to do," said Mrs. Molloy

-definitely, "we're not going to hang around waiting for any chances to

-come along sort of natural. We're going to slip a couple of knock-out

-drops in old man Carmody's port one night after dinner and clear out

-with the stuff while...."

-

-"Knock-out drops?" said Chimp, impressed. "Have you got any knock-out

-drops?"

-

-"Sure we've got knock-out drops. Soapy never travels without them."

-

-"The madam always packs them in their little bottle first thing

-before even my clean collars," said Mr. Molloy proudly. "So you see,

-everything's all arranged, Chimpie."

-

-"Yeah?" said Mr. Twist, "and how about me?"

-

-"How do you mean, how about you?"

-

-"It seems to me," pointed out Mr. Twist, eyeing his business partner in

-rather an unpleasant manner with his beady little eyes, "that you're

-asking me to take a pretty big chance. While you're doping the old man

-I'll be twenty miles away at Healthward Ho. How am I to know you won't

-go off with the stuff and leave me to whistle for my share?"

-

-It is only occasionally that one sees a man who cannot believe his

-ears, but anybody who had been in Mr. Carmody's study at this moment

-would have been able to enjoy that interesting experience. A long

-moment of stunned and horrified amazement passed before Mr. Molloy was

-able to decide that he really had heard correctly.

-

-"Chimpie! You don't suppose we'd double-cross you?"

-

-"Ee-magine!" said Mrs. Molloy.

-

-"Well, mind you don't," said Mr. Twist coldly. "But you can't say I'm

-not taking a chance. And now, talking turkey for a moment, how do we

-share?"

-

-"Equal shares, of course, Chimpie."

-

-"You mean half for me and half for you and Dolly?"

-

-Mr. Molloy winced as if the mere suggestion had touched an exposed

-nerve.

-

-"No, no, no, Chimpie! You get a third, I get a third, and the madam

-gets a third."

-

-"Not on your life!"

-

-"What!"

-

-"Not on your life. What do you think I am?"

-

-"I don't know," said Mrs. Molloy acidly. "But, whatever it is, you're

-the only one of it."

-

-"Is that so?"

-

-"Yes, that is so."

-

-"Now, now, now," said Mr. Molloy, intervening. "Let's not get personal.

-I can't figure this thing out, Chimpie. I can't see where your kick

-comes in. You surely aren't suggesting that you should ought to have as

-much as I and the wife put together?"

-

-"No, I'm not. I'm suggesting I ought to have more."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Sixty-forty's my terms."

-

-A feverish cry rang through the room, a cry that came straight from a

-suffering heart. The temperamental Mrs. Molloy was very near the point

-past which a sensitive woman cannot be pushed.

-

-"Every time we get together on one of these jobs," she said, with deep

-emotion, "we always have this same fuss about the divvying up. Just

-when everything looks nice and settled you start this thing of trying

-to hand I and Soapy the nub end of the deal. What's the matter with you

-that you always want the earth? Be human, why can't you, you poor lump

-of Camembert."

-

-"I'm human all right."

-

-"You've got to prove it to me."

-

-"What makes you say I'm not human?"

-

-"Well, look in the glass and see for yourself," said Mrs. Molloy

-offensively.

-

-The pacific Mr. Molloy felt it time to call the meeting to order once

-more.

-

-"Now, now, now! All this isn't getting us anywheres. Let's stick to

-business. Where do you get that sixty-forty stuff, Chimp?"

-

-"I'll tell you where I get it. I'm going into this thing as a favour,

-aren't I? There's no need for me to sit in at this game at all, is

-there? I've got a good, flourishing, respectable business of my own,

-haven't I? A business that's on the level. Well, then."

-

-Dolly sniffed. Her husband's soothing intervention had failed signally

-to diminish her animosity.

-

-"I don't know what your idea was in starting that Healthward Ho

-joint," she said, "but I'll bet my diamond sunburst it isn't on the

-level."

-

-"Certainly it's on the level. A man with brains can always make a good

-living without descending to anything low and crooked. That's why I say

-that if I go into this thing it will simply be because I want to do a

-favour to two old friends."

-

-"Old what?"

-

-"Friends was what I said," repeated Mr. Twist. "If you don't like my

-terms, say so and we'll call the deal off. It'll be all right by me.

-I'll simply get along back to Healthward Ho and go on running my good,

-flourishing, respectable business. Come to think of it, I'm not any too

-solid on this thing, anyway. I was walking in my garden this morning

-and a magpie come up to me as close as that."

-

-Mrs. Molloy expressed the view that this was tough on the magpie, but

-wanted to know what the bird's misfortune in finding itself so close to

-Mr. Twist that it could not avoid taking a good, square look at him had

-to do with the case.

-

-"Well, I'm superstitious, same as everyone else. I saw the new moon

-through the glass, what's more."

-

-"Oh, stop stringing the beads and talk sense," said Dolly wearily.

-

-"I'm talking sense all right. Sixty per cent. or I don't come in. You

-wouldn't have asked me to come in if you could have done without me.

-Think I don't know that? Sixty's moderate. I'm doing all the hard work,

-aren't I?"

-

-"Hard work?" Dolly laughed bitterly. "Where do you get the idea it's

-going to be hard work? Everybody'll be out of the house on the night

-of this concert thing they're having down in the village, there'll be

-a window left open, and you'll just walk in and pack up the stuff. If

-that's hard, what's easy? We're simply handing you slathers of money

-for practically doing nothing."

-

-"Sixty," said Mr. Twist. "And that's my last word."

-

-"But, Chimpie ..." pleaded Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Sixty."

-

-"Have a heart!"

-

-"Sixty."

-

-"It isn't as though ..."

-

-"Sixty."

-

-Dolly threw up her hands despairingly.

-

-"Oh, give it him," she said. "He won't be happy if you don't. If a

-guy's middle name is Shylock, where's the use wasting time trying to do

-anything about it?"

-

-

-                                  III

-

-Mrs. Molloy's prediction that on the night of Rudge's annual dramatic

-and musical entertainment the Hall would be completely emptied of its

-occupants was not, as it happened, literally fulfilled. A wanderer

-through the stable yard at about the hour of ten would have perceived a

-light in an upper window: and had he taken the trouble to get a ladder

-and climb up and look in would have beheld John Carroll seated at his

-table, busy with a pile of accounts.

-

-In an age so notoriously avid of pleasure as the one in which we live

-it is rare to find a young man of such sterling character that he

-voluntarily absents himself from a village concert in order to sit at

-home and work: and, contemplating John, one feels quite a glow. It was

-not as if he had been unaware of what he was missing. The vicar, he

-knew, was to open the proceedings with a short address: the choir would

-sing old English glees: the Misses Vivien and Alice Pond-Pond were down

-on the programme for refined coon songs: and, in addition to other

-items too numerous and fascinating to mention, Hugo Carmody and his

-friend Mr. Fish would positively appear in person and render that noble

-example of Shakespeare's genius, the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_.

-Yet John Carroll sat in his room, working. England's future cannot be

-so dubious as the pessimists would have us believe while her younger

-generation is made of stuff like this.

-

-John was finding in his work these days a good deal of consolation.

-There is probably no better corrective of the pangs of hopeless love

-than real, steady application to the prosaic details of an estate. The

-heart finds it difficult to ache its hardest while the mind is busy

-with such items as Sixty-one pounds, eight shillings and fivepence, due

-to Messrs. Truby and Gaunt for Fixing Gas Engine, or the claim of the

-Country Gentlemen's Association for eight pounds eight and fourpence

-for seeds. Add drains, manure, and feed of pigs, and you find yourself

-immediately in an atmosphere where Romeo himself would have let his

-mind wander. John, as he worked, was conscious of a distinct easing of

-the strain which had been on him since his return to the Hall. And if

-at intervals he allowed his eyes to stray to the photograph of Pat on

-the mantelpiece, that was the sort of thing that might happen to any

-young man, and could not be helped.

-

-It was seldom that visitors penetrated to this room of his--indeed, he

-had chosen to live above the stables in preference to inside the house

-for this very reason, and on Rudge's big night he had looked forward to

-an unbroken solitude. He was surprised, therefore, as he checked the

-account of the Messrs. Vanderschoot & Son for bulbs, to hear footsteps

-on the stairs. A moment later, the door had opened and Hugo walked in.

-

-John's first impulse, as always when his cousin paid him a visit, was

-to tell him to get out. People who, when they saw Hugo, immediately

-told him to get out generally had the comfortable feeling that they

-were doing the right and sensible thing. But to-night there was in his

-demeanour something so crushed and forlorn that John had not the heart

-to pursue this admirable policy.

-

-"Hullo," he said. "I thought you were down at the concert."

-

-Hugo uttered a short, bitter laugh, and, sinking into a chair, stared

-bleakly before him. His eyelids, like those of the Mona Lisa, were a

-little weary. He looked like the hero of a Russian novel debating the

-advisability of murdering a few near relations before hanging himself

-in the barn.

-

-"I was," he said. "Oh yes, I was down at the concert all right."

-

-"Have you done your bit already?"

-

-"I have. They put Ronnie and me on just after the Vicar's Short

-Address."

-

-"Wanted to get the worst over quick, eh?"

-

-Hugo raised a protesting hand. There was infinite sadness in the

-gesture.

-

-"Don't mock, John. Don't jeer. Don't jibe and scoff. I'm a broken man."

-

-"Only cracked, I should have said."

-

-Hugo was not attuned to cousinly badinage. He frowned austerely.

-

-"Less back-chat," he begged. "I came here for sympathy. And a drink.

-Have you got anything to drink?"

-

-"There's some whisky in that cupboard."

-

-Hugo heaved himself from the chair, looking more Russian than ever.

-John watched his operations with some concern.

-

-"Aren't you mixing it pretty strong?"

-

-"I need it strong." The unhappy man emptied his glass, refilled it, and

-returned to the chair. "In fact, it's a point verging very much on the

-moot whether I ought to have put any water in it at all."

-

-"What's the trouble?"

-

-"This isn't bad whisky," said Hugo, becoming a little brighter.

-

-"I know it isn't. What's the matter?"

-

-The momentary flicker of cheerfulness died out. Gloom once more claimed

-Hugo for its own.

-

-"John, old man," he said. "We got the bird."

-

-"Yes?"

-

-"Don't say 'Yes?' like that, as if you had expected it," said Hugo,

-hurt. "The thing came on me as a stunning blow. I was amazed.

-Astounded. Absolutely nonplussed."

-

-"Could I have knocked you down with a feather?"

-

-"I thought we were going to be a riot. Of course, mind you, we came on

-much too early. It was criminal to bill us next to opening. An audience

-needs careful warming up for an intellectual act like ours!"

-

-"What happened?"

-

-Hugo rose and renewed the contents of his glass.

-

-"There is a spirit creeping into the life of Rudge-in-the-Vale," he

-said, "which I don't like to see. A spirit of lawlessness and licence.

-Disruptive influences are at work. Bolshevik propaganda, I shouldn't

-wonder. Would a Rudge audience have given me the bird a few years ago?

-Not a chance!"

-

-"But you've never tried them with the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_

-before. Everybody has a breaking point."

-

-The argument was specious, but Hugo shook his head.

-

-"In the good old days I could have done Hamlet's Soliloquy, and

-the hall would have rung with hearty cheers. It's just this modern

-lawlessness and Bolshevism. There was a very tough collection of the

-Budd Street element standing at the back, who should never have been

-let in. They started straight away chi-yiking the vicar during his

-short address. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I merely

-supposed that they wanted him to cheese it and let the entertainment

-start. I thought that directly Ronnie and I came on we should grip

-them. But we were barely a third of the way through when there were

-loud cries of 'Tripe!' and 'Get off!'"

-

-"I see what that meant. You hadn't gripped them."

-

-"I was never so surprised in my life. Mark you, I'll admit that

-Ronnie was perfectly rotten. He kept foozling his lines and saying

-'Oh, sorry!' and going back and repeating them. You can't get the

-best out of Shakespeare that way. The fact is, poor old Ronnie is

-feeling a little low just now. He got a letter this morning from his

-man, Bessemer, in London, a fellow who has been with him for years

-and has few equals as a trouser presser, springing the news out of an

-absolutely clear sky that he's been secretly engaged for weeks and is

-just going to get married and leave Ronnie. Naturally, it has upset the

-poor chap badly. With a thing like that on his mind, he should never

-have attempted an exacting part like Brutus in the Quarrel Scene."

-

-"Just what the audience thought, apparently. What happened after that?"

-

-"Well, we buzzed along as well as we could, and we had just got to that

-bit about digesting the venom of your spleen though it do split you,

-when the proletariat suddenly started bunging vegetables."

-

-"Vegetables?"

-

-"Turnips, mostly, as far as I could gather. Now, do you see the

-significance of that, John?"

-

-"How do you mean, the significance?"

-

-"Well, obviously these blighters had come prepared. They had meant to

-make trouble right along. If not, why would they have come to a concert

-with their pockets bulging with turnips?"

-

-"They probably knew by instinct that they would need them."

-

-"No! It was simply this bally Bolshevism one reads so much about."

-

-"You think these men were in the pay of Moscow?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder. Well, that took us off. Ronnie got rather a beefy

-whack on the side of the head and exited rapidly. And I wasn't going to

-stand out there doing the Quarrel Scene by myself, so I exited, too.

-The last I saw, Chas. Bywater had gone on and was telling Irish dialect

-stories with a Swedish accent."

-

-"Did they throw turnips at him?"

-

-"Not one. That's the sinister part of it. That's what makes me so sure

-the thing was an organized outbreak and all part of this Class War you

-hear about. Chas. Bywater, in spite of the fact that his material was

-blue round the edges, goes like a breeze, and gets off without a single

-turnip, whereas Ronnie and I ... well," said Hugo, a hideous grimness

-in his voice, "this has settled one thing. I've performed for the last

-time for Rudge-in-the-Vale. Next year when they may come to me, and

-plead with me to help out with the programme, I shall reply, 'Not after

-what has occurred!' Well, thanks for the drink. I'll be buzzing along."

-Hugo rose and wandered somnambulistically to the table. "What are you

-doing?"

-

-"Working."

-

-"Working?"

-

-"Yes, working."

-

-"What at?"

-

-"Accounts. Stop fiddling with those papers, curse you."

-

-"What's this thing?"

-

-"That," said John, removing it from his listless grasp and putting it

-out of reach in a drawer, "is the diagram of a thing called an Alpha

-Separator. It works by centrifugal force and can separate two thousand

-seven hundred and twenty-four quarts of milk in an hour. It has also

-a Holstein butter-churner attachment, and a boiler which at seventy

-degrees centigrade destroys the obligatory and optional bacteria."

-

-"Yes?

-

-"Positively."

-

-"Oh? Well, damn it, anyway," said Hugo.

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-Hugo crossed the strip of gravel which lay between the stable yard and

-the house, and, having found in his trouser pocket the key of the back

-door, proceeded to let himself in. His objective was the dining room.

-He was feeling so much better after the refreshment of which he had

-just partaken that reason told him he had found the right treatment for

-his complaint. A few more swift ones from the cellarette in the dining

-room and the depression caused by the despicable behaviour of the Budd

-Street Bolshevists might possibly leave him altogether.

-

-The passage leading to his goal was in darkness, but he moved steadily

-forward. Occasionally a chair would dart from its place to crack him

-over the shin, but he was not to be kept from the cellarette by trifles

-like that. Soon his fingers were on the handle of the door, and he

-flung it open and entered. And it was at this moment that there came to

-his ears an odd noise.

-

-It was not the noise itself that was odd. Feet scraping on gravel

-always make that unmistakable sound. What impressed itself on Hugo

-as curious was the fact that on the gravel outside the dining-room

-window, feet at this hour should be scraping at all. His hand had been

-outstretched to switch on the light, but now he paused. He waited,

-listening. And presently in the oblong of the middle of the three large

-windows he saw dimly against the lesser darkness outside a human body.

-It was insinuating itself through the opening and what Hugo felt about

-it was that he liked its dashed nerve.

-

-Hugo Carmody was no poltroon. Both physically and morally he possessed

-more than the normal store of courage. At Cambridge he had boxed for

-his university in the light-weight division and once, in London, the

-petty cash having run short, he had tipped a hat-check boy with an

-aspirin tablet. Moreover, although it was his impression that the few

-drops of whisky which he had drunk in John's room had but scratched

-the surface, their effect in reality had been rather pronounced. "In

-some diatheses," an eminent physician has laid down, "whisky is not

-immediately pathogenic. In other cases the spirit in question produces

-marked cachexia." Hugo's cachexia was very marked indeed. He would

-have resented keenly the suggestion that he was fried, boiled, or even

-sozzled, but he was unquestionably in a definite condition of cachexia.

-

-In a situation, accordingly, in which many householders might have

-quailed, he was filled with gay exhilaration. He felt able and willing

-to chew the head off any burglar that ever packed a centrebit. Glowing

-with cachexia and the spirit of adventure, he switched on the light

-and found himself standing face to face with a small, weedy man beneath

-whose snub nose there nestled a waxed moustache.

-

-"Stand ho!" said Hugo jubilantly, falling at once into the vein of the

-Quarrel Scene.

-

-In the bosom of the intruder many emotions were competing for

-precedence, but jubilation was not one of them. If Mr. Twist had had

-a weak heart, he would by now have been lying on the floor breathing

-his last, for few people can ever have had a nastier shock. He stood

-congealed, blinking at Hugo.

-

-Hugo, meanwhile, had made the interesting discovery that it was no

-stranger who stood before him but an old acquaintance.

-

-"Great Scot!" he exclaimed. "Old Doc. Twist! The beautiful,

-tranquil-thoughts bird!" He chuckled joyously. His was a retentive

-memory, and he could never forget that this man had once come within an

-ace of ruining that big deal in cigarettes over at Healthward Ho, and

-had also callously refused to lend him a tenner. Of such a man he could

-believe anything, even that he combined with the duties of a physical

-culture expert a little housebreaking and burglary on the side. "Well,

-well, well!" said Hugo. "Remember March, the Ides of March remember!

-Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his

-body that did stab and not for justice? Answer me that, you blighter,

-yes or no."

-

-Chimp Twist licked his lips nervously. He was a little uncertain as to

-the exact import of his companion's last words, but almost any words

-would have found in him at this moment a distrait listener.

-

-"Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes!" said Hugo.

-

-Chimp could have done the same. With an intense bitterness he was

-regretting that he had ever allowed Mr. Molloy to persuade him into

-this rash venture. But he was a man of resource. He made an effort to

-mend matters. Soapy, in a similar situation, would have done it better,

-but Chimp, though not possessing his old friend's glib tongue and

-insinuating manners, did the best he could. "You startled me," he said,

-smiling a sickly smile.

-

-"I bet I did," agreed Hugo cordially.

-

-"I came to see your uncle."

-

-"You what?"

-

-"I came to see your uncle."

-

-"Twist, you lie! And, what is more, you lie in your teeth."

-

-"Now, see here...!" began Chimp, with a feeble attempt at belligerence.

-

-Hugo checked him with a gesture.

-

-"There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am armed so

-strong in honesty that they pass by me like the idle wind, which I

-respect not. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be

-frightened when a madman stares? By the gods, you shall digest the

-venom of your spleen though it do split you. And what could be fairer

-than that?" said Hugo.

-

-Mr. Twist was discouraged, but he persevered.

-

-"I guess it looked funny to you, seeing me come in through a window.

-But, you see, I rang the front door bell and couldn't seem to make

-anyone hear."

-

-"Away, slight man!"

-

-"You want me to go away?" said Mr. Twist, with a gleam of hope.

-

-"You stay where you are, unless you'd like me to lean a decanter of the

-best port up against your head," said Hugo. "And don't flicker," he

-added, awakening to another grievance against this unpleasant little

-man.

-

-"Don't what?" inquired Mr. Twist, puzzled but anxious to oblige.

-

-"Flicker. Your outline keeps wobbling, and I don't like it. And there's

-another thing about you that I don't like. I've forgotten what it is

-for the moment, but it'll come back to me soon."

-

-He frowned darkly: and for the first time it was borne in upon Mr.

-Twist that his young host was not altogether himself. There was a gleam

-in his eyes which, in Mr. Twist's opinion, was far too wild to be

-agreeable.

-

-"I know," said Hugo, having reflected. "It's your moustache."

-

-"My moustache?"

-

-"Or whatever it is that's broken out on your upper lip. I dislike it

-intensely. When Cæsar lived," said Hugo querulously, "he durst not thus

-have moved me. And the worst thing of all is that you should have taken

-a quiet, harmless country house and called it such a beastly, repulsive

-name as Healthward Ho. Great Scot!" exclaimed Hugo. "I knew there was

-something I was forgetting. All this while you ought to have been doing

-bending and stretching exercises!"

-

-"Your uncle, I guess, is still down at the concert thing in the

-village?" said Mr. Twist, weakly endeavouring to change the

-conversation.

-

-Hugo started. A look of the keenest suspicion flashed into his eyes.

-

-"Were you at that concert?" he said sternly.

-

-"Me? No."

-

-"Are you sure, Twist? Look me in the face."

-

-"I've never been near any concert."

-

-"I strongly suspect you," said Hugo, "of being one of the ringleaders

-in that concerted plot to give me the bird. I think I recognized you."

-

-"Not me."

-

-"You're sure?"

-

-"Sure."

-

-"Oh? Well, that doesn't alter the cardinal fact that you are the

-bloke who makes poor, unfortunate fat men do bending and stretching

-exercises. So do a few now yourself."

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"Bend!" said Hugo. "Stretch!"

-

-"Stretch?"

-

-"And bend," said Hugo, insisting on full measure. "First bend, then

-stretch. Let me see your chest expand and hear the tinkle of buttons as

-you burst your waistcoat asunder."

-

-Mr. Twist was now definitely of opinion that the gleam in the young

-man's eyes was one of the most unpleasant and menacing things he had

-ever encountered. Transferring his gaze from this gleam to the other's

-well-knit frame, he decided that he was in the presence of one who,

-whether his singular request was due to weakness of intellect or to

-alcohol, had best be humoured.

-

-"Get on with it," said Hugo.

-

-He settled himself in a chair and lighted a cigarette. His whole

-manner was suggestive of the blasé nonchalance of a sultan about to

-be entertained by the court acrobat. But, though his bearing was

-nonchalant, that gleam was still in his eyes, and Chimp Twist hesitated

-no longer. He bent, as requested--and then, having bent, stretched. For

-some moments he jerked his limbs painfully in this direction and in

-that, while Hugo, puffing smoke, surveyed him with languid appreciation.

-

-"Now tie yourself into a reefer knot," said Hugo.

-

-Chimp gritted his teeth. A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering

-happier things, and there came back to him the recollection of mornings

-when he had stood at his window and laughed heartily at the spectacle

-of his patients at Healthward Ho being hounded on to these very

-movements by the vigilant Sergeant Flannery. How little he had supposed

-that there would ever come a time when he would be compelled himself to

-perform these exercises. And how little he had guessed at the hideous

-discomfort which they could cause to a man who had let his body muscles

-grow stiff.

-

-"Wait," said Hugo, suddenly.

-

-Mr. Twist was glad to do so. He straightened himself, breathing heavily.

-

-"Are you thinking beautiful thoughts?"

-

-Chimp Twist gulped. "Yes," he said, with a strong effort.

-

-"Beautiful, tranquil thoughts?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Then carry on."

-

-Chimp resumed his calisthenics. He was aching in every joint now, but

-into his discomfort there had shot a faint gleam of hope. Everything in

-this world has its drawbacks and its advantages. With the drawbacks to

-his present situation he had instantly become acquainted, but now at

-last one advantage presented itself to his notice--the fact, to wit,

-that the staggerings and totterings inseparable from a performance

-of the kind with which he was entertaining his limited but critical

-audience had brought him very near to the open window.

-

-"How are the thoughts?" asked Hugo. "Still beautiful?"

-

-Chimp said they were, and he spoke sincerely. He had contrived to put

-a space of several feet between himself and his persecutor, and the

-window gaped invitingly almost at his side.

-

-"Yours," said Hugo, puffing smoke meditatively, "has been a very happy

-life, Twist. Day after day you have had the privilege of seeing my

-uncle Lester doing just what you're doing now, and it must have beaten

-a circus hollow. It's funny enough even when you do it, and you haven't

-anything like his personality and appeal. If you could see what a

-priceless ass you look it would keep you giggling for weeks. I know,"

-said Hugo, receiving an inspiration; "do the one where you touch your

-toes without bending the knees."

-

-In all human affairs the semblance of any given thing is bound to vary

-considerably with the point of view. To Chimp Twist, as he endeavoured

-to comply with this request, it seemed incredible that what he was

-doing could strike anyone as humorous. To Hugo, on the other hand,

-it appeared as if the entertainment had now reached its apex of

-wholesome fun. As Mr. Twist's purple face came up for the third time,

-he abandoned himself whole-heartedly to mirth. He rocked in his chair,

-and, rashly trying to inhale cigarette smoke at the same time, found

-himself suddenly overcome by a paroxysm of coughing.

-

-It was the moment for which Chimp Twist had been waiting. There is,

-as Ronnie Fish would have observed in the village hall an hour or so

-earlier if the audience had had the self-restraint to let him get as

-far as that, a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood,

-leads on to fortune. Chimp did not neglect the opportunity which

-Fate had granted him. With an agile bound he was at the window, and,

-rendered supple, no doubt, by his recent exercises, leaped smartly

-through it.

-

-He descended heavily on the dog Emily. Emily, wandering out for a

-last stroll before turning in, had just paused beneath the window to

-investigate a smell which had been called to her attention on the

-gravel. She was trying to make up her mind whether it was rats or the

-ghost of a long-lost bone when the skies suddenly started raining heavy

-bodies on her.

-

-

-                                   V

-

-Emily was a dog who, as a rule, took things as they came, her guiding

-motto in life being the old Horatian _nil admirari_, but she could

-lose her poise. She lost it now. A startled oath escaped her, and

-for a brief instant she was completely unequal to the situation. In

-this instant, Chimp, equally startled but far too busy to stop, had

-disengaged himself and was vanishing into the darkness.

-

-A moment later Hugo came through the window. His coughing fit had spent

-itself, and he was now in good voice again. He was shouting.

-

-At once Emily became herself again. All her sporting blood stirred in

-answer to these shouts. She forgot her agony. Her sense of grievance

-left her. Recognizing Hugo, she saw all things clearly, and realized

-in a flash that here at last was the burglar for whom she had been

-waiting ever since her conversation with that wire-haired terrier over

-at Webleigh Manor.

-

-John had taken her to lunch there one day and, fraternizing with

-the Webleigh dog under the table, she had immediately noticed in

-his manner something aloof and distinctly patronizing. It had then

-come out in conversation that they had had a burglary at the Manor

-a couple of nights ago, and the wire-haired terrier, according to

-his own story, had been the hero of the occasion. He spoke with an

-ill-assumed offhandedness of barking and bitings and chasings in the

-night, and, though he did not say it in so many words, gave Emily

-plainly to understand that it took an unusual dog to grapple with such

-a situation, and that in a similar crisis she herself would inevitably

-be found wanting. Ever since that day she had been longing for a chance

-to show her mettle, and now it had come. Calling instructions in a high

-voice, she raced for the bushes into which Chimp had disappeared. Hugo,

-a bad third, brought up the rear of the procession.

-

-Chimp, meanwhile, had been combining with swift movement some very

-rapid thinking. Fortune had been with him in the first moments of this

-dash for safety, but now, he considered, it had abandoned him, and he

-must trust to his native intelligence to see him through. He had not

-anticipated dogs. Dogs altered the whole complexion of the affair. To

-a go-as-you-please race across country with Hugo he would have trusted

-himself, but Hugo in collaboration with a dog was another matter. It

-became now a question not of speed but of craft; and he looked about

-him, as he ran, for a hiding place, for some shelter from this canine

-and human storm which he had unwittingly aroused.

-

-And Fortune, changing sides again, smiled upon him once more. Emily,

-who had been coming nicely, attempted very injudiciously at this

-moment to take a short cut and became involved in a bush. And Chimp,

-accelerating an always active brain, perceived a way out. There was a

-low stone wall immediately in front of him, and beyond it, as he came

-up, he saw the dull gleam of water.

-

-It was not an ideal haven, but he was in no position to pick and

-choose. The interior of the tank from which the gardeners drew

-ammunition for their watering cans had, for one who from childhood had

-always disliked bathing, a singularly repellent air. Those dark, oily

-looking depths suggested the presence of frogs, newts, and other slimy

-things that work their way down a man's back and behave clammily around

-his spine. But it was most certainly a place of refuge.

-

-He looked over his shoulder. An agitated crackling of branches

-announced that Emily had not yet worked clear, and Hugo had apparently

-stopped to render first aid. With a silent shudder Chimp stepped into

-the tank and, lowering himself into the depths, nestled behind a water

-lily.

-

-Hugo was finding the task of extricating Emily more difficult than he

-had anticipated. The bush was one of those thorny, adhesive bushes, and

-it twined itself lovingly in Emily's hair. Bad feeling began to rise,

-and the conversation took on an acrimonious tone.

-

-"Stand still!" growled Hugo. "Stand still, you blighter dog."

-

-"Push," retorted Emily. "Push, I tell you! Push, not pull. Don't you

-realize that all the while we're wasting time here that fellow's

-getting away?"

-

-"Don't wriggle, confound you. How can I get you out if you keep

-wriggling?"

-

-"Try a lift in an upward direction. No, that's no good. Stop pushing

-and pull. Pull, I tell you. Pull not push. Now, when I say '_To_

-you ...'"

-

-Something gave. Hugo staggered back. Emily sprang from his grasp. The

-chase was on again.

-

-But now all the zest had gone out of it. The operations in the bush

-had occupied only a bare couple of minutes, but they had been enough

-to allow the quarry to vanish. He had completely disappeared. Hugo,

-sitting on the wall of the tank and trying to recover his breath,

-watched Emily as she darted to and fro, inspecting paths and drawing

-shrubberies, and knew that he had failed. It was a bitter moment, and

-he sat and smoked moodily. Presently even Emily gave the thing up. She

-came back to where Hugo sat, her tongue lolling, and disgust written

-all over her expressive features. There was a silence. Emily thought

-it was all Hugo's fault, Hugo thought it was Emily's. A stiffness had

-crept into their relations once again, and when at length Hugo, feeling

-a little more benevolent after three cigarettes, reached down and

-scratched Emily's head, the latter drew away coldly.

-

-"Damn fool!" she said.

-

-Hugo started. Was it some sound, some distant stealthy footstep, that

-had caused his companion to speak? He stared into the night.

-

-"Fat head!" said Emily. "Can't even pull somebody out of a bush."

-

-She laughed mirthlessly, and Hugo, now keenly on the alert, rose from

-his seat and gazed this way and that. And then, moving softly away from

-him at the end of the path, he saw a dark figure.

-

-Instantly, Hugo Carmody became once more the man of action. With a

-stern shout he dashed along the path. And he had not gone half a dozen

-feet when the ground seemed suddenly to give way under him.

-

-This path, as he should have remembered, knowing the terrain as he

-did, was a terrace path, set high above the shrubberies below. It was

-a simple enough matter to negotiate it in daylight and at a gentle

-stroll, but to race successfully along it in the dark required a

-Blondin. Hugo's third stride took him well into the abyss. He clutched

-out desperately, grasped only cool Worcestershire night air, and then,

-rolling down the slope, struck his head with great violence against a

-tree which seemed to have been put there for the purpose.

-

-When the sparks had cleared away and the firework exhibition was over,

-he rose painfully to his feet.

-

-A voice was speaking from above--the voice of Ronald Overbury Fish.

-

-"Hullo!" said the voice. "What's up?"

-

-

-                                  VI

-

-Weighed down by the burden of his many sorrows, Ronnie Fish had come

-to this terrace path to be alone. Solitude was what he desired, and

-solitude was what he supposed he had got until, abruptly, without any

-warning but a wild shout, the companion of his school and university

-days had suddenly dashed out from empty space and apparently attempted

-to commit suicide. Ronnie was surprised. Naturally no fellow likes

-getting the bird at a village concert, but Hugo, he considered, in

-trying to kill himself was adopting extreme measures. He peered down,

-going so far in his natural emotion as to remove the cigarette holder

-from his mouth.

-

-"What's up?" he asked again.

-

-Hugo was struggling dazedly up the bank.

-

-"Was that you, Ronnie?"

-

-"Was what me?"

-

-"That."

-

-"Which?"

-

-Hugo approached the matter from another angle.

-

-"Did you see anyone?"

-

-"When?"

-

-"Just now. I thought I saw someone on the path. It must have been you."

-

-"It was. Why?"

-

-"I thought it was somebody else."

-

-"Well, it wasn't."

-

-"I know, but I thought it was."

-

-"Who did you think it was?"

-

-"A fellow called Twist."

-

-"Twist?"

-

-"Yes, Twist."

-

-"Why?"

-

-"I've been chasing him."

-

-"Chasing Twist?"

-

-"Yes. I caught him burgling the house."

-

-They had been walking along, and now reached a spot where the light,

-freed from overhanging branches, was stronger. Mr. Fish became aware

-that his friend had sustained injuries.

-

-"I say," he said, "you've hurt your head."

-

-"I know I've hurt my head, you silly ass."

-

-"It's bleeding, I mean."

-

-"Bleeding?"

-

-"Bleeding."

-

-Blood is always interesting. Hugo put a hand to his wound, took it away

-again, inspected it.

-

-"By Jove! I'm bleeding."

-

-"Yes, bleeding. You'd better go in and have it seen to."

-

-"Yes," Hugo reflected. "I'll go and get old John to fix it. He once put

-six stitches in a cow."

-

-"What cow?"

-

-"One of the cows. I forget its name."

-

-"Where do we find this John?"

-

-"He's in his room over the stables."

-

-"Can you walk it all right?"

-

-"Oh yes, rather,"

-

-Ronnie, relieved, lighted a cigarette, and approached an aspect of the

-affair which had been giving him food for thought.

-

-"I say, Hugo, have you been having a few drinks or anything?"

-

-"What do you mean?"

-

-"Well, buzzing about the place after non-existent burglars."

-

-"They weren't non-existent. I tell you I caught this man Twist...."

-

-"How do you know it was Twist?"

-

-"I've met him."

-

-"Who? Twist?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Where?"

-

-"He runs a place called Healthward Ho near here."

-

-"What's Healthward Ho?"

-

-"It's a place where fellows go to get fit. My uncle was there."

-

-"And Twist runs it?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"And you think this--dash it, this pillar of society was burgling the

-house?"

-

-"I caught him, I tell you."

-

-"Who? Twist?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Well, where is he, then?"

-

-"I don't know."

-

-"Listen, old man," said Ronnie gently. "I think you'd better be pushing

-along and getting that bulb of yours repaired."

-

-He remained gazing after his friend, as he disappeared in the direction

-of the stable yard, with much concern. He hated to think of good old

-Hugo getting into a mental state like this, though, of course, it was

-only what you could expect if a man lived in the country all the time.

-He was still brooding when he heard footsteps behind him and looked

-round and saw Mr. Lester Carmody approaching.

-

-Mr. Carmody was in a condition which in a slimmer man might have

-been called fluttering. He, like John, had absented himself from the

-festivities in the village, wishing to be on the spot when Mr. Twist

-made his entry into the house. He had seen Chimp get through the

-dining-room window and had instantly made his way to the front hall,

-proposing to wait there and see the precious suitcase duly deposited

-in the cupboard under the stairs. He had waited, but no Chimp had

-appeared. And then there had come to his ears barkings and shoutings

-and uproar in the night. Mr. Carmody, like Othello, was perplexed in

-the extreme.

-

-"Ah, Carmody," said Mr. Fish.

-

-He waved a kindly cigarette holder at his host. The latter regarded

-him with tense apprehension. Was his guest about to announce that

-Mr. Twist, caught in the act, was now under lock and key? For some

-reason or other, it was plain, Hugo and this unspeakable friend of his

-had returned at an unexpectedly early hour from the village, and Mr.

-Carmody feared the worst.

-

-"I've got a bit of bad news for you, Carmody," said Mr. Fish. "Brace

-up, my dear fellow."

-

-Mr. Carmody gulped.

-

-"What--what--what...."

-

-"Poor old Hugo. Gone clean off his mental axis."

-

-"What! What do you mean?"

-

-"I found him just now running round in circles and dashing his head

-against trees. He said he was chasing a burglar. Of course there wasn't

-anything of the sort on the premises. For, mark this, my dear Carmody:

-according to his statement, which I carefully checked, the burglar was

-a most respectable fellow named Twist, who runs a sort of health place

-near here. You know him, I believe?"

-

-"Slightly," said Mr. Carmody. "Slightly."

-

-"Well, would a man in that position go about burgling houses? Pure

-delusion, of course."

-

-Mr. Carmody breathed a deep sigh. Relief had made him feel a little

-faint.

-

-"Undoubtedly," he said. "Hugo was always weak-minded from a boy."

-

-"By the way," said Mr. Fish, "did you by any chance get up at five in

-the morning the other day and climb a ladder to look for swallows'

-nests?"

-

-"Certainly not."

-

-"I thought as much. Hugo said he saw you. Delusion again. The whole

-truth of the matter is, my dear Carmody, living in the country has

-begun to soften poor old Hugo's brain. You must act swiftly. You don't

-want a gibbering nephew about the place. Take my tip and send him away

-to London at the earliest possible moment."

-

-It was rare for Lester Carmody to feel gratitude for the advice

-which this young man gave him so freely, but he was grateful now. He

-perceived clearly that a venture like the one on which he and his

-colleagues had embarked should never have been undertaken while the

-house was full of infernal, interfering young men. Such was his emotion

-that for an instant he almost liked Mr. Fish.

-

-"Hugo was saying that you wished him to become your partner in some

-commercial enterprise," he said.

-

-"A night club. The Hot Spot. Situated just off Bond Street, in the

-heart of London's pleasure-seeking area."

-

-"You were going to give him a half share for five hundred pounds, I

-believe?"

-

-"Five hundred was the figure."

-

-"He shall have the cheque immediately," said Mr. Carmody. "I will go

-and write it now. And to-morrow you shall take him to London. The best

-trains are in the morning. I quite agree with you about his mental

-condition. I am very much obliged to you for drawing it to my notice."

-

-"Don't mention it, Carmody," said Mr. Fish graciously. "Only too glad,

-my dear fellow. Always a pleasure, always a pleasure."

-

-

-                                  VII

-

-John had returned to his work and was deep in it when Hugo and his

-wounded head crossed his threshold. He was startled and concerned.

-

-"Good heavens!" he cried. "What's been happening?"

-

-"Fell down a bank and bumped the old lemon against a tree," said Hugo,

-with the quiet pride of a man who has had an accident. "I looked in to

-see if you had got some glue or something to stick it up with."

-

-John, as became one who thought nothing of putting stitches in cows,

-exhibited a cool efficiency. He bustled about, found water and cotton

-wool and iodine, and threw in sympathy as a make-weight. Only when the

-operation was completed did he give way to a natural curiosity.

-

-"How did it happen?"

-

-"Well, it started when I found that bounder Twist burgling the house."

-

-"Twist?"

-

-"Yes. Twist. The Healthward Ho bird."

-

-"You found Doctor Twist burgling the house?"

-

-"Yes, and I made him do bending and stretching exercises. And in the

-middle he legged it through the window, and Emily and I chivvied him

-about the garden. Then he disappeared, and I saw him again at the end

-of that path above the shrubberies, and I dashed after him and took a

-toss and it wasn't Twist at all, it was Ronnie."

-

-John forbore to ask further questions. This incoherent tale satisfied

-him that his cousin, if not delirious, was certainly on the borderland.

-He remembered the whole-heartedness with which Hugo had drowned his

-sorrows only a short while back in this very room, and he was satisfied

-that what the other needed was rest.

-

-"You'd better go to bed," he said. "I think I've fixed you up pretty

-well, but perhaps you had better see the doctor to-morrow."

-

-"Doc. Twist?"

-

-"No, not Doctor Twist," said John soothingly. "Doctor Bain, down in the

-village."

-

-"Something ought to be done about the man Twist," argued Hugo.

-"Somebody ought to pop it across him."

-

-"If I were you I'd just forget all about Twist. Put him right out of

-your mind."

-

-"But are we going to sit still and let perishers with waxed moustaches

-burgle the house whenever they feel inclined and not do a thing to

-bring their gray hairs in sorrow to the grave?"

-

-"I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, I'd just go off and have a

-nice long sleep."

-

-Hugo raised his eyebrows, and, finding that the process caused

-exquisite agony to his wounded head, quickly lowered them again. He

-looked at John with cold disapproval, pained at this evidence of

-supineness in a member of a proud family.

-

-"Oh?" he said. "Well, bung--oh, then!"

-

-"Good night."

-

-"Give my love to the Alpha Separator and all the little Separators."

-

-"I will," said John.

-

-He accompanied his cousin down the stairs and out into the stable yard.

-Having watched him move away and feeling satisfied that he could reach

-the house without assistance, he felt in his pocket for the materials

-for the last smoke of the day, and was filling his pipe when Emily came

-round the corner.

-

-Emily was in great spirits.

-

-"Such larks!" said Emily. "One of those big nights. Burglars dashing

-to and fro, people falling over banks and butting their heads against

-trees, and everything bright and lively. But let me tell you something.

-A fellow like your cousin Hugo is no use whatever to a dog in any real

-emergency. He's not a force. A broken reed. You should have seen him.

-He...."

-

-"Stop that noise and get to bed," said John.

-

-"Right ho," said Emily. "You'll be coming soon, I suppose?"

-

-She charged up the stairs, glad to get to her basket after a busy

-evening. John lighted his pipe, and began to meditate. Usually he

-smoked the last pipe of the day to the accompaniment of thoughts about

-Pat, but now he found his mind turning to this extraordinary delusion

-of Hugo's that he had caught Doctor Twist, of Healthward Ho, burgling

-the house.

-

-John had never met Doctor Twist, but he knew that he was the proprietor

-of a flourishing health-cure establishment and assumed him to be a

-reputable citizen; and the idea that he had come all the way from

-Healthward Ho to burgle Rudge Hall was so bizarre that he could not

-imagine by what weird mental processes his cousin had been led to

-suppose that he had seen him. Why Doctor Twist, of all people? Why not

-the vicar or Chas. Bywater?

-

-Footsteps sounded on the gravel, and he was aware of the subject of his

-thoughts returning. There was a dazed expression on Hugo's face, and in

-his hand there fluttered a small oblong slip of paper.

-

-"John," said Hugo, "look at this and tell me if you see what I see. Is

-it a cheque?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"For five hundred quid, made out to me and signed by Uncle Lester?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Then there _is_ a Santa Claus!" said Hugo reverently. "John, old man,

-it's absolutely uncanny. Directly I got into the house just now Uncle

-Lester called me to his study, handed me this cheque, and told me that

-I could go to London with Ronnie to-morrow and help him start that

-night club. You remember me telling you about Ronnie's night club,

-the Hot Spot, situated just off Bond Street in the heart of London's

-pleasure-seeking area? Or did I? Well, anyway, he is starting a night

-club there, and he offered me a half share if I'd put up five hundred.

-By the way, Uncle Lester wants you to go to London to-morrow, too."

-

-"Me. Why?"

-

-"I fancy he's got the wind up a bit about this burglary business

-to-night. He said something about wanting you to go and see the

-insurance people--to bump up the insurance a trifle, I suppose. He'll

-explain. But, listen, John. It really is the most extraordinary thing,

-this. Uncle Lester starting to unbelt, I mean, and scattering money all

-over the place. I was absolutely right when I told Pat this morning...."

-

-"Have you seen Pat?"

-

-"Met her this morning on the bridge. And I said to her ..."

-

-"Did she--er--ask after me?"

-

-"No."

-

-"No?" said John hollowly.

-

-"Not that I remember. I brought your name into the talk, and we had a

-few words about you, but I don't recollect her asking after you." Hugo

-laid a hand on his cousin's arm. "It's no use, John. Be a man! Forget

-her. Keep plugging away at that Molloy girl. I think you're beginning

-to make an impression. I think she's softening. I was watching her

-narrowly last night, and I fancied I saw a tender look in her eyes when

-they fell on you. I may have been mistaken, but that's what I fancied.

-A sort of shy, filmy look. I'll tell you what it is, John. You're much

-too modest. You underrate yourself. Keep steadily before you the fact

-that almost anybody can get married if they only plug away at it. Look

-at this man Bessemer, for instance, Ronnie's man that I told you about.

-As ugly a devil as you would wish to see outside the House of Commons,

-equipped with number sixteen feet and a face more like a walnut than

-anything. And yet he has clicked. The moral of which is that no one

-need ever lose hope. You may say to yourself that you have no chance

-with this Molloy girl, that she will not look at you. But consider the

-case of Bessemer. Compared with him, you are quite good looking. His

-ears alone...."

-

-"Good night," said John.

-

-He knocked out his pipe and turned to the stairs. Hugo thought his

-manner abrupt.

-

-

-                                 VIII

-

-Sergeant-Major Flannery, that able and conscientious man, walked

-briskly up the main staircase of Healthward Ho. Outside a door off the

-second landing he stopped and knocked.

-

-A loud sneeze sounded from within.

-

-"Cub!" called a voice.

-

-Chimp Twist, propped up with pillows, was sitting in bed, swathed in

-a woollen dressing gown. His face was flushed, and he regarded his

-visitor from under swollen eyelids with a moroseness which would have

-wounded a more sensitive man. Sergeant-Major Flannery stood six feet

-two in his boots: he had a round, shiny face at which it was agony for

-a sick man to look, and Chimp was aware that when he spoke it would

-be in a rolling, barrack-square bellow which would go clean through

-him like a red-hot bullet through butter. One has to be in rude health

-and at the top of one's form to bear up against the Sergeant-Major

-Flannerys of this world.

-

-"Well?" he muttered thickly.

-

-He broke off to sniff at a steaming jug which stood beside his bed, and

-the Sergeant-Major, gazing down at him with the offensive superiority

-of a robust man in the presence of an invalid, fingered his waxed

-moustache. The action intensified Chimp's dislike. From the first he

-had been jealous of that moustache. Until it had come into his life

-he had always thought highly of his own fungoid growth, but one look

-at this rival exhibit had taken all the heart out of him. The thing

-was long and blond and bushy, and it shot heavenward into two glorious

-needle-point ends, a shining zareba of hair quite beyond the scope of

-any mere civilian. Non-army men may grow moustaches and wax them and

-brood over them and be fond and proud of them, but to obtain a waxed

-moustache in the deepest and holiest sense of the words you have to be

-a sergeant-major.

-

-"Oo-er!" said Mr. Flannery. "That's a nasty cold you've got."

-

-Chimp, as if to endorse this opinion, sneezed again.

-

-"A nasty, feverish cold," proceeded the Sergeant-Major in the tones in

-which he had once been wont to request squads of recruits to number off

-from the right. "You ought to do something about that cold."

-

-"I ab dog sobthig about it," growled Chimp, having recourse to the jug

-once more.

-

-"I don't mean sniffing at jugs, sir. You won't do yourself no good

-sniffing at jugs, Mr. Twist. You want to go to the root of the matter,

-if you understand the expression. You want to attack it from the

-stummick. The stummick is the seat of the trouble. Get the stummick

-right and the rest follows natural."

-

-"Wad do you wad?"

-

-"There's some say quinine and some say a drop of camphor on a lump of

-sugar and some say cinnamon, but you can take it from me the best thing

-for a nasty feverish cold in the head is taraxacum and hops. There is

-no occasion to damn my eyes, Mr. Twist. I am only trying to be 'elpful.

-You send out for some taraxacum and hops, and before you know where you

-are...."

-

-"Wad do you wad?"

-

-"I'm telling you. There's a gentleman below--a gentleman who's called,"

-said Sergeant-Major Flannery, making his meaning clear. "A gentleman,"

-being still more precise, "who's called at the front door in a

-nortermobile. He wants to see you."

-

-"Well, he can't."

-

-"Says his name's Molloy."

-

-"Molloy?"

-

-"That's what he _said_," replied Mr. Flannery, as one declining to be

-quoted or to accept any responsibility.

-

-"Oh? All right. Send him up."

-

-"Taraxacum and hops," repeated the Sergeant-Major, pausing at the door.

-

-He disappeared, and a few moments later returned, ushering in Soapy. He

-left the two old friends together, and Soapy approached the bed with

-rather an awe-struck air.

-

-"You've got a cold," he said.

-

-Chimp sniffed--twice. Once with annoyance and once at the jug.

-

-"So would you have a code if you'd been sitting up to your neck in

-water for half an hour last night and had to ride home tweddy biles

-wriggig wet on a motorcycle."

-

-"Says which?" exclaimed Soapy, astounded.

-

-Chimp related the saga of the previous night, touching disparagingly on

-Hugo and saying some things about Emily which it was well she could not

-hear.

-

-"And that leds me out," he concluded.

-

-"No, no!"

-

-"I'm through."

-

-"Don't say that."

-

-"I do say thad."

-

-"But, Chimpie, we've got it all fixed for you to get away with the

-stuff to-night."

-

-Chimp stared at him incredulously.

-

-"To-night? You thig I'm going out to-night with this code of mine, to

-clibe through windows and be run off my legs by ..."

-

-"But, Chimpie, there's no danger of that now. We've got everything set.

-That guy Hugo and his friend are going to London this morning, and so's

-the other fellow. You won't have a thing to do but walk in."

-

-"Oh?" said Chimp.

-

-He relapsed into silence, and took a thoughtful sniff at the jug.

-This information, he was bound to admit, did alter the complexion of

-affairs. But he was a business man.

-

-"Well, if I do agree to go out and risk exposing this nasty, feverish

-code of mine to the night air, which is the worst thig a man can

-do--ask any doctor...."

-

-"Chimpie!" cried Mr. Molloy in a stricken voice. His keen intuition

-told him what was coming.

-

-"... I don't do it on any sigsdy-forty basis. Sigsdy-five--thirty-five

-is the figure."

-

-Mr. Molloy had always been an eloquent man--without a natural turn

-for eloquence you cannot hope to traffic successfully in the baser

-varieties of oil stocks; but never had he touched the sublime heights

-of oratory to which he soared now. Even the first few words would have

-been enough to melt most people. Nevertheless when at the end of five

-minutes he paused for breath, he knew that he had failed to grip his

-audience.

-

-"Sigsdy-five--thirty-five," said Chimp firmly. "You need me, or you

-wouldn't have brought me into this. If you could have worked the job by

-yourself, you'd never have tode me a word about it."

-

-"I can't work it by myself. I've got to have an alibi. I and the wife

-are going to a theatre to-night in Birmingham."

-

-"That's what I'm saying. You can't get alog without me. And that's why

-it's going to be sigsdy-five--thirty-five."

-

-Mr. Molloy wandered to the window and looked hopelessly out over the

-garden.

-

-"Think what Dolly will say when I tell her," he pleaded.

-

-Chimp replied ungallantly that Dolly and what she might say meant

-little in his life. Mr. Molloy groaned hollowly.

-

-"Well, I guess if that's the way you feel...."

-

-Chimp assured him it was.

-

-"Then I suppose that's the way we'll have to fix it."

-

-"All right," said Chimp. "Then I'll be there somewheres about eleven,

-or a little later, maybe. And you needn't bother to leave any window

-opud this time. Just have a ladder laying around and I'll bust the

-window of the picture gallery, where the stuff is. It'll be more

-trouble, but I dode bide takid a bidder trouble to make thigs look more

-natural. You just see thad ladder's where I can fide it, and then you

-can leave all the difficud part of it to me."

-

-"Difficult!"

-

-"Difficud was what I said," returned Chimp. "Suppose I trip over

-somethig id the dark? Suppose I slip on the stairs? Suppose the ladder

-breaks? Suppose that dog gets after me again? That dog's not going to

-London, is it? Well, then! Besides, considering that I may quide ligely

-get pneumonia and pass in my checks.... What did you say?"

-

-Mr. Molloy had not spoken. He had merely sighed wistfully.

-

-

-

-

-                             CHAPTER VIII

-

-

-                                   I

-

-Although anxious thought for the comfort of his juniors was not

-habitually one of Lester Carmody's outstanding qualities, in planning

-his nephew John's expedition to London he had been considerateness

-itself. John, he urged, must on no account dream of trying to make the

-double journey in a single day. Apart from the fatigue inseparable from

-such a performance, he was a young man, and young men, Mr. Carmody

-pointed out, are always the better for a little relaxation, and an

-occasional taste of the pleasures which a metropolis has to offer. Let

-John have a good dinner in London, go to a theatre, sleep comfortably

-at a first-class hotel and return at his leisure on the morrow.

-

-Nevertheless, in spite of his uncle's solicitude nightfall found the

-latter hurrying back into Worcestershire in the Widgeon Seven. He did

-not admit that he was nervous, yet there had undoubtedly come upon

-him something that resembled uneasiness. He had been thinking a good

-deal during his ride to London about the peculiar behaviour of his

-cousin Hugo on the previous night. The supposition that Hugo had found

-Doctor Twist of Healthward Ho trying to burgle Rudge Hall was, of

-course, too absurd for consideration, but it did seem possible that he

-had surprised some sort of an attempt upon the house. Rambling and

-incoherent as his story had been, it had certainly appeared to rest

-upon that substratum of fact, and John had protested rather earnestly

-to his uncle against being sent to London, on an errand which could

-have been put through much more simply by letter, at a time when

-burglars were in the neighbourhood.

-

-Mr. Carmody had laughed at his apprehensions. It was most unlikely, he

-pointed out, that Hugo had ever seen a marauder at all. But assuming

-that he had done so, and that he had surprised him and pursued him

-about the garden, was it reasonable to suppose that the man would

-return on the very next night? And if, finally, he did return, the mere

-absence of John would make very little difference. Unless he proposed

-to patrol the grounds all night, John, sleeping as he did over the

-stable yard, could not be of much help, and even without him Rudge

-Hall was scarcely in a state of defencelessness. Sturgis, the butler,

-it was true, must, on account of age and flat feet, be reckoned a

-non-combatant, but apart from Mr. Carmody himself the garrison, John

-must recollect, included the intrepid Thomas G. Molloy, a warrior at

-the very mention of whose name Bad Men in Western mining camps had in

-days gone by trembled like aspens.

-

-It was all very plausible, yet John, having completed his business in

-London, swallowed an early dinner and turned the head of the Widgeon

-Seven homeward.

-

-It is often the man with smallest stake in a venture that has its

-interests most deeply at heart. His uncle Lester John had always

-suspected of a complete lack of interest in the welfare of Rudge Hall;

-and, as for Hugo, that urban-minded young man looked on the place as a

-sort of penitentiary, grudging every moment he was compelled to spend

-within its ancient walls. To John it was left to regard Rudge in the

-right Carmody spirit, the spirit of that Nigel Carmody who had once

-held it for King Charles against the forces of the Commonwealth. Where

-Rudge was concerned, John was fussy. The thought of intruders treading

-its sacred floors appalled him. He urged the Widgeon Seven forward at

-its best speed and reached Rudge as the clock over the stables was

-striking eleven.

-

-The first thing that met his eye as he turned in at the stable yard

-was the door of the garage gaping widely open and empty space in the

-spot where the Dex-Mayo should have stood. He ran the two-seater in,

-switched off the engine and the lights, and, climbing down stiffly,

-proceeded to ponder over this phenomenon. The only explanation he could

-think of was that his uncle must have ordered the car out after dinner

-on an expedition of some kind. To Birmingham, probably. The only place

-you ever went to from Rudge after nightfall was Birmingham.

-

-John thought he could guess what must have happened. He did not often

-read the Birmingham papers himself, but the _Post_ came to the house

-every morning: and he seemed to see Miss Molloy, her appetite for

-entertainment whetted rather than satisfied by the village concert,

-finding in its columns the announcement that one of the musical

-comedies of her native land was playing at the Prince of Wales. No

-doubt she had wheedled his uncle into taking herself and her father

-over there, with the result that here the house was without anything in

-the shape of protection except butler Sturgis, who had been old when

-John was a boy.

-

-A wave of irritation passed over John. Two long drives in the Widgeon

-Seven in a single day had induced even in his whip-cord body a certain

-measure of fatigue. He had been looking forward to tumbling into bed

-without delay, and this meant that he must remain up and keep vigil

-till the party's return. Well, at least he would rout Emily out of her

-slumbers.

-

-"Hullo?" said Emily sleepily, in answer to his whistle. "Yes?"

-

-"Come down," called John.

-

-There was a scrabbling on the stairs. Emily bounded out, full of life.

-

-"Well, well, well!" she said. "You back?"

-

-"Come along."

-

-"What's up? More larks?"

-

-"Don't make such a beastly noise," said John. "Do you know what time it

-is?"

-

-They walked out together and proceeded to make a slow circle of the

-house. And gradually the magic of the night began to soften John's

-annoyance. The grounds of Rudge Hall, he should have remembered, were

-at their best at this hour and under these conditions. Shy little

-scents were abroad which did not trust themselves out in the daytime,

-and you needed stillness like this really to hear the soft whispering

-of the trees.

-

-London had been stiflingly hot, and this sweet coolness was like balm.

-Emily had disappeared into the darkness, which probably meant that she

-would clump back up the stairs at two in the morning having rolled in

-something unpleasant, and ruin his night's repose by leaping on his

-chest, but he could not bring himself to worry about it. A sort of

-beatific peace was upon him. It was almost as though an inner voice

-were whispering to him that he was on the brink of some wonderful

-experience. And what experience the immediate future could hold except

-the possible washing of Emily when she finally decided to come home he

-was unable to imagine.

-

-Moving at a leisurely pace, he worked round to the back of the house

-again and stepped off the grass on to the gravel outside the stable

-yard. And as his shoes grated in the warm silence a splash of white

-suddenly appeared in the blackness before him.

-

-"Johnnie?"

-

-He came back on his heels as if he had received a blow. It was the

-voice of Pat, sounding in the warm silence like moonlight made audible.

-

-"Is that you, Johnnie?"

-

-John broke into a little run. His heart was jumping, and all the

-happiness which had been glowing inside him had leaped up into a

-roaring flame. That mysterious premonition had meant something, after

-all. But he had never dreamed it could mean anything so wonderful as

-this.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-The night was full of stars, but overhanging trees made the spot where

-they stood a little island of darkness in which all that was visible

-of Pat was a faint gleaming of white. John stared at her dumbly. Only

-once in his life before could he remember having felt as he felt now,

-and that was one raw November evening at school at the close of the

-football match against Marlborough when, after battling wearily through

-a long half hour to preserve the slenderest of all possible leads, he

-had heard the referee's whistle sound through the rising mists and had

-stood up, bruised and battered and covered with mud, to the realization

-that the game was over and won. He had had his moments since then: he

-had captained Oxford and played for England, and had touched happiness

-in other and milder departments of life, but never again till now had

-he felt that strange, almost awful ecstasy.

-

-Pat, for her part, appeared composed.

-

-"That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've

-been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a

-sound."

-

-"Emily's gone away somewhere."

-

-"I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for

-life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically

-cut me dead."

-

-There was a pause.

-

-"Pat!" said John, thickly.

-

-"I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such

-a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling

-round?"

-

-It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The

-thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a

-thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step

-to prevent them.

-

-"Oh, just walking."

-

-"Were you surprised to see me?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"We don't see much of each other nowadays."

-

-"I didn't know.... I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."

-

-"Good gracious! What made you think that?"

-

-"I don't know."

-

-Silence fell upon them again. John was harassed by a growing

-consciousness that he was failing to prove himself worthy of this

-golden moment which the Fates had granted to him. Was this all he was

-capable of--stiff, halting words which sounded banal even to himself?

-A night like this deserved, he felt, something better. He saw himself

-for an instant as he must be appearing to a girl like Pat, a girl who

-had been everywhere and met all sorts of men--glib, dashing men; suave,

-ingratiating men; men of poise and _savoir faire_ who could carry

-themselves with a swagger. An aching humility swept over him.

-

-And yet she had come here to-night to see him. The thought a little

-restored his self-respect, and he was trying with desperate search in

-the unexplored recesses of his mind to discover some remark which would

-show his appreciation of that divine benevolence, when she spoke again.

-

-"Johnnie, let's go out on the moat."

-

-John's heart was singing like one of the morning stars. The suggestion

-was not one which he would have made himself, for it would not

-have occurred to him, but, now that it had been made, he saw how

-super-excellent it was. He tried to say so, but words would not come to

-him.

-

-"You don't seem very enthusiastic," said Pat. "I suppose you think I

-ought to be at home and in bed?"

-

-"No."

-

-"Perhaps you want to go to bed?"

-

-"No."

-

-"Well, come on then."

-

-They walked in silence down the yew-hedged path that led to the

-boathouse. The tranquil beauty of the night wrapped them about as in a

-garment. It was very dark here, and even the gleam of white that was

-Pat had become indistinct.

-

-"Johnnie?"

-

-"Yes?"

-

-He heard her utter a little exclamation. Something soft and scented

-stumbled against him, and for an instant he was holding her in his

-arms. The next moment he had very properly released her again, and he

-heard her laugh.

-

-"Sorry," said Pat. "I stumbled."

-

-John did not reply. He was incapable of speech. That swift moment of

-contact had had the effect of clarifying his mental turmoil. Luminously

-now he perceived what was causing his lack of eloquence. It was the

-surging, choking desire to kiss Pat, to reach out and snatch her up in

-his arms and hold her there.

-

-He stopped abruptly.

-

-"What's the matter?"

-

-"Nothing," said John.

-

-Prudence, the kill-joy, had whispered in his ear. He visualized

-Prudence as a thin, pale-faced female with down-drawn lips and

-mild, warning stare who murmured thinly, "Is it wise?" Before her

-whisper primitive emotions fled, abashed. The caveman in John fled

-back into the dim past whence he had come. Most certainly, felt the

-Twentieth-Century John, it would not be wise. Very clearly Pat had

-shown him, that night in London, that all that she could give him was

-friendship, and to gratify the urge of some distant ancestor who ought

-to have been ashamed of himself he had been proposing to shatter the

-delicate crystal of this friendship into fragments. He shivered at the

-narrowness of escape.

-

-He had heard stories. In stories girls drew their breath in sharply and

-said "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?" He decided not to

-spoil everything. Walking warily, he reached the little gate that led

-to the boathouse steps and opened it with something of a flourish.

-

-"Be careful," he said.

-

-"What of?" said Pat. It seemed to John that she spoke a trifle flatly.

-

-"These steps are rather tricky."

-

-"Oh?" said Pat.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-He followed her into the punt, oppressed once more by a feeling that

-something had gone wrong with what should have been the most wonderful

-night of his life. Girls are creatures of moods, and Pat seemed now

-to have fallen into one of odd aloofness. She said nothing as he

-pushed the boat out, and remained silent as it slid through the water

-with a little tinkling ripple, bearing them into a world of stars and

-coolness, where everything was still and the trees stood out against

-the sky as if carved out of cardboard.

-

-"Are you all right?" said John, at last.

-

-"Splendid, thanks." Pat's mood seemed to have undergone another swift

-change. Her voice was friendly again. She nestled into the cushions.

-"This is luxury. Do you remember the old days when there was nothing

-but the weed-boat?"

-

-"They were pretty good days," said John wistfully.

-

-"They were, rather," said Pat.

-

-The spell of the summer night held them silent again. No sound

-broke the stillness but the slap of tiny waves and the rhythmic dip

-and splash of the paddle. Then with a dry flittering a bat wheeled

-overhead, and out somewhere by the little island where the birds nested

-something leaped noisily in the water. Pat raised her head.

-

-"A pike?"

-

-"Must have been."

-

-Pat sat up and leaned forward.

-

-"That would have excited Father," she said. "I know he's dying to get

-out here and have another go at the pike. Johnnie, I do wish somebody

-could do something to stop this absurd feud between him and Mr.

-Carmody. It's too silly. I know Father would be all over Mr. Carmody if

-only he would make some sort of advance. After all, he did behave very

-badly. He might at least apologize."

-

-John did not reply for a moment. He was thinking that whoever tried

-to make his uncle apologize for anything had a whole-time job on his

-hands. Obstinate was a mild word for the squire of Rudge. Pigs bowed

-as he passed, and mules could have taken his correspondence course.

-

-"Uncle Lester's a peculiar man," he said.

-

-"But he might listen to you."

-

-"He might," said John doubtfully.

-

-"Well, will you try? Will you go to him and say that all Father wants

-is for him to admit he was in the wrong? Good heavens! It isn't asking

-much of a man to admit that when he's nearly murdered somebody."

-

-"I'll try."

-

-"Hugo says Mr. Carmody has gone off his head, but he can't have gone

-far enough off not to be able to see that Father has a perfect right

-to be offended at being grabbed round the waist and used as a dug-out

-against dynamite explosions."

-

-"I think Hugo's off his head," said John. "He was running round the

-garden last night, dashing himself against trees. He said he was

-chasing a burglar."

-

-Pat was not to be diverted into a discussion of Hugo's mental

-deficiencies.

-

-"Well, will you do your best, Johnnie? Don't just let things slide

-as if they didn't matter. I tell you, it's rotten for me. Father

-found me talking to Hugo the other day and behaved like something out

-of a super-film. He seemed sorry there wasn't any snow, so that he

-couldn't drive his erring daughter out into it. If he knew I was up

-here to-night he would foam with fury. He says I mustn't speak to you

-or Hugo or Mr. Carmody or Emily--not that I want to speak to Emily,

-the little blighter--nor your ox nor your ass nor anything that is

-within your gates. He's put a curse on the Hall. It's one of those

-comprehensive curses, taking in everything from the family to the mice

-in the kitchen, and I tell you I'm jolly well fed up. This place has

-always been just like a home to me, and you ..."

-

-John paused in the act of dipping his paddle into the water.

-

-"... and you have always been just like a brother ..."

-

-John dug the paddle down with a vicious jerk.

-

-"... and if Father thinks it doesn't affect me to be told I mustn't

-come here and see you, he's wrong. I suppose most girls nowadays would

-just laugh at him, but I can't. It isn't his being angry I'd mind--it

-would hurt his feelings so frightfully if I let him down and went

-fraternizing with the enemy. So I have to come here on the sly, and if

-there's one thing in the world I hate it's doing things on the sly. So

-do reason with that old pig of an uncle of yours, Johnnie. Talk to him

-like a mother."

-

-"Pat," said John fervently, "I don't know how it's going to be done,

-but if it can be done I'll do it."

-

-"That's the stuff! You're a funny old thing, Johnnie. In some ways

-you're so slow, but I believe when you really start out to do anything

-you generally put it through."

-

-"Slow?" said John, stung. "How do you mean, slow?"

-

-"Well, don't you think you're slow?"

-

-"In what way?"

-

-"Oh, just slow."

-

-In spite of the fact that the stars were shining bravely, the night was

-very dark, much too dark for John to be able to see Pat's face; he got

-the impression that, could he have seen it, he would have discovered

-that she was smiling that old mocking smile of hers. And somehow,

-though in the past he had often wilted meekly and apologetically

-beneath this smile, it filled him now with a surge of fury. He plied

-the paddle wrathfully, and the boat shot forward.

-

-"Don't go so fast," said Pat.

-

-"I thought I was slow," retorted John, sinking back through the years

-to the repartee of school days.

-

-Pat gurgled in the darkness.

-

-"Did I wound you, Johnnie? I'm sorry. You aren't slow. It's just

-prudence, I expect."

-

-Prudence! John ceased to paddle. He was tingling all over, and there

-had come upon him a strange breathlessness.

-

-"How do you mean, prudence?"

-

-"Oh, just prudence. I can't explain."

-

-Prudence! John sat and stared through the darkness in a futile effort

-to see her face. A water rat swam past, cleaving a fan-shaped trail.

-The stars winked down at him. In the little island a bird moved among

-the reeds. Prudence! Was she referring...? Had she meant...? Did she

-allude...?

-

-He came to life and dug the paddle into the water. Of course she

-wasn't. Of course she hadn't. Of course she didn't. In that little

-episode on the path, he had behaved exactly as he should have behaved.

-If he behaved as he should not have behaved, if he had behaved as that

-old flint-axe and bearskin John of the Stone Age would have had him

-behave, he would have behaved unpardonably. The swift intake of the

-breath and the "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?"--that was

-what would have been the result of listening to the advice of a bounder

-of an ancestor who might have been a social success in his day, but

-naturally didn't understand the niceties of modern civilization.

-

-Nevertheless, he worked with unnecessary vigour at the paddle, calling

-down another rebuke from his passenger.

-

-"Don't race along like that. Are you trying to hint that you want to

-get this over as quickly as you can and send me home to bed?"

-

-"No," was all John could find to say.

-

-"Well, I suppose I ought to be thinking of bed. I'll tell you what.

-We'll do the thing in style. The Return by Water. You can take me out

-into the Skirme and down as far as the bridge and drop me there. Or is

-that too big a programme? You're probably tired."

-

-John had motored two hundred miles that day, but he had never felt less

-tired. His view was that he wished they could row on for ever.

-

-"All right," he said.

-

-"Push on, then," said Pat. "Only do go slowly. I want to enjoy this. I

-don't want to whizz by all the old landmarks. How far to Ghost Corner?"

-

-"It's just ahead."

-

-"Well, take it easy."

-

-The moat proper was a narrow strip of water which encircled the Hall

-and had been placed there by the first Carmody in the days when

-householders believed in making things difficult for their visitors.

-With the gradual spread of peace throughout the land its original

-purposes had been forgotten, and later members of the family had

-broadened it and added to it and tinkered with it and sprinkled it with

-little islands with the view of converting it into something resembling

-as nearly as possible an ornamental lake. Apparently it came to an end

-at the spot where a mass of yew trees stood forbiddingly in a gloomy

-row, that haunted spot which Pat as a child had named Ghost Corner;

-but if you approached this corner intrepidly you found there a narrow

-channel. Which navigated, you came into a winding stream which led past

-meadows and under bridges to the upper reaches of the Skirme.

-

-"How old were you, Johnnie, when you were first brave enough to come

-past Ghost Corner at night all by yourself?" asked Pat.

-

-"Sixteen."

-

-"I bet you were much more than that."

-

-"I did it on my sixteenth birthday."

-

-Pat stretched out a hand and the branches brushed her fingers.

-

-"I wouldn't do it even now," she said. "I know perfectly well a skinny

-arm covered with black hair would come out of the yews and grab me.

-There's something that looks like a skinny arm hovering at the back of

-your neck now, Johnnie. What made you such a hero that particular day?"

-

-"You had betted me I wouldn't, if you remember."

-

-"I don't remember. Did I?"

-

-"Well, you egged me on with taunts."

-

-"And you went and did it? What a good influence I've been in your life,

-haven't I? Oh, dear! It's funny to think of you and me as kids on this

-very bit of water and here we are again now, old and worn and quite

-different people, and the water's just the same as ever."

-

-"I'm not different."

-

-"Yes, you are."

-

-"What makes you say I'm different?"

-

-"Oh, I don't know."

-

-John stopped paddling. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.

-

-"Why do you say I'm different?"

-

-"Those white things through the trees there must be geese."

-

-John was not interested in geese.

-

-"I'm not different at all," he said, "I...." He broke off. He had been

-on the verge of saying that he had loved her then and that he loved her

-still--which, he perceived, would have spoiled everything. "I'm just

-the same," he concluded lamely.

-

-"Then why don't you sport with me on the green as you did when you

-were a growing lad? Here you have been back for days, and to-night is

-the first glimpse I get of you. And, even so, I had to walk a mile and

-fling gravel at your window. In the old days you used to live on my

-doorstep. Do you think I've enjoyed being left all alone all this time?"

-

-John was appalled. Put this way, the facts did seem to point to a

-callous negligence on his part. And all the while he had been supposing

-his conduct due to delicacy and a sense of what was fitting and would

-be appreciated. In John's code, it was the duty of a man who has told

-a girl he loved her and been informed that she does not love him to

-efface himself, to crawl into the background, to pass out of her life

-till the memory of his crude audacity shall have been blotted out by

-time. Why, half the big game shot in Africa owed their untimely end, he

-understood, to this tradition.

-

-"I didn't know...."

-

-"What?"

-

-"I didn't know you wanted to see me."

-

-"Of course I wanted to see you. Look here, Johnnie. I'll tell you what.

-Are you doing anything to-morrow?"

-

-"No."

-

-"Then get out that old rattletrap of yours and gather me up at my

-place, and we'll go off and have a regular picnic like we used to do

-in the old days. Father is lunching out. You could come at about one

-o'clock. We could get out to Wenlock Edge in an hour. It would be

-lovely there if this weather holds up. What do you say?"

-

-John did not immediately say anything. His feelings were too deep for

-words. He urged the boat forward, and the Skirme received it with that

-slow, grave, sleepy courtesy which made it for right-thinking people

-the best of all rivers.

-

-"Pat!" said John at length, devoutly.

-

-"Will you?"

-

-"Will I!"

-

-"All right. That's splendid. I'll expect you at one."

-

-The Skirme rippled about the boat, chuckling to itself. It was a

-kindly, thoughtful river, given to chuckling to itself like an old

-gentleman who likes to see young people happy.

-

-"We used to have some topping picnics in the old days," said Pat

-dreamily.

-

-"We did," said John.

-

-"Though why on earth you ever wanted to be with a beastly, bossy,

-consequential, fractious kid like me, goodness knows."

-

-"You were fine," said John.

-

-The Old Bridge loomed up through the shadows. John had steered the

-boat shoreward, and it brushed against the reeds with a sound like the

-blowing of fairy bugles.

-

-Pat scrambled out and bent down to where he sat, holding to the bank.

-

-"I'm not nearly so beastly now, Johnnie," she said in a whisper.

-"You'll find that out some day, perhaps, if you're very patient. Good

-night, Johnnie, dear. Don't forget to-morrow."

-

-She flitted away into the darkness, and John, releasing his hold on the

-bank and starting up as if he had had an electric shock, was carried

-out into mid-stream. He was tingling from head to foot. It could not

-have happened, of course, but for a moment he had suddenly received the

-extraordinary impression that Pat had kissed him.

-

-"Pat!" he called, choking.

-

-There came no answer out of the night--only the sleepy chuckling of the

-Skirme as it pottered on to tell its old friend the Severn about it.

-

-"Pat!"

-

-John drove the paddle forcefully into the water, and the Skirme,

-ceasing to chuckle, uttered two loud gurgles of protest as if resenting

-treatment so violent. The nose of the boat bumped against the bank,

-and he sprang ashore. He stood there, listening. But there was nothing

-to hear. Silence had fallen on an empty world.

-

-A little sound came to him in the darkness. The Skirme was chuckling

-again.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER IX

-

-

-                                   I

-

-John woke late next day, and in the moment between sleeping and waking

-was dimly conscious of a feeling of extraordinary happiness. For some

-reason, which he could not immediately analyze, the world seemed

-suddenly to have become the best of all possible worlds. Then he

-remembered, and sprang out of bed with a shout.

-

-Emily, lying curled up in her basket, her whole appearance that of a

-dog who has come home with the milk, raised a drowsy head. Usually it

-was her custom to bustle about and lend a hand while John bathed and

-dressed, but this morning she did not feel equal to it. Deciding that

-it was too much trouble even to tell him about the man she had seen in

-the grounds last night, she breathed heavily twice and returned to her

-slumbers.

-

-Having dressed and come out into the open, John found that he had

-missed some hours of what appeared to be the most perfect morning in

-the world's history. The stable yard was a well of sunshine: light

-breezes whispered in the branches of the cedars: fleecy clouds swam in

-a sea of blue: and from the direction of the home farm there came the

-soothing crooning of fowls. His happiness swelled into a feeling of

-universal benevolence toward all created things. He looked upon the

-birds and found them all that birds should be: the insects which hummed

-in the sunshine were, he perceived, a quite superior brand of insect:

-he even felt fraternal toward a wasp which came flying about his face.

-And when the Dex-Mayo rolled across the bridge of the moat and Bolt,

-applying the brakes, drew up at his side, he thought he had never seen

-a nicer-looking chauffeur.

-

-"Good morning, Bolt," said John, effusively.

-

-"Good morning, sir."

-

-"Where have you been off to so early?"

-

-"Mr. Carmody sent me to Worcester, sir, to leave a bag for him at Shrub

-Hill station. If you're going into the house, Mr. John, perhaps you

-wouldn't mind giving him the ticket?"

-

-John was delighted. It was a small kindness that the chauffeur was

-asking, and he wished it had been in his power to do something for him

-on a bigger scale. However, the chance of doing even small kindnesses

-was something to be grateful for on a morning like this. He took the

-ticket and put it in his pocket.

-

-"How are you, Bolt?"

-

-"All right, thank you, sir."

-

-"How's Mrs. Bolt?"

-

-"She's all right, Mr. John."

-

-"How's the baby?"

-

-"The baby's all right."

-

-"And the dog?"

-

-"The dog's all right, sir."

-

-"That's splendid," said John. "That's great. That's fine. That's

-capital. I'm delighted."

-

-He smiled a radiant smile of cheeriness and good will, and turned

-toward the house. However much the heart may be uplifted, the animal in

-a man insists on demanding breakfast, and, though John was practically

-pure spirit this morning, he was not blind to the fact that a couple of

-eggs and a cup of coffee would be no bad thing. As he reached the door,

-he remembered that Mrs. Bolt had a canary and that he had not inquired

-after that, but decided that the moment had gone by. Later on, perhaps.

-He opened the back door and made his way to the morning room, where

-eggs abounded and coffee could be had for the asking. Pausing only to

-tickle a passing cat under the ear and make chirruping noises to it, he

-went in.

-

-The morning room was empty, and there were signs that the rest of the

-party had already breakfasted. John was glad of it. Genially disposed

-though he felt toward his species to-day, he relished the prospect

-of solitude. A man who is about to picnic on Wenlock Edge in perfect

-weather with the only girl in the world, wants to meditate, not to make

-conversation.

-

-So thoroughly had his predecessors breakfasted that he found, on

-inspecting the coffee pot, that it was empty. He rang the bell.

-

-"Good morning, Sturgis," he said affably, as the butler appeared. "You

-might give me some more coffee, will you?"

-

-The butler of Rudge Hall was a little man with snowy hair who had been

-placidly withering in Mr. Carmody's service for the last twenty years.

-John had known him ever since he could remember, and he had always been

-just the same--frail and venerable and kindly and dried-up. He looked

-exactly like the Good Old Man in a touring melodrama company.

-

-"Why, Mr. John! I thought you were in London."

-

-"I got back late last night. And very glad," said John heartily, "to be

-back. How's the rheumatism, Sturgis?"

-

-"Rather troublesome, Mr. John."

-

-John was horrified. Could these things be on such a day as this?

-

-"You don't say so?"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John. I was awake the greater portion of the night."

-

-"You must rub yourself with something and then go and lie down and have

-a good rest. Where do you feel it mostly?"

-

-"In the limbs, Mr. John. It comes on in sharp twinges."

-

-"That's bad. By Jove, yes, that's bad. Perhaps this fine weather will

-make it better."

-

-"I hope so, Mr. John."

-

-"So do I, so do I," said John earnestly. "Tell me, where is everybody?"

-

-"Mr. Hugo and the young gentleman went up to London."

-

-"Of course, yes. I was forgetting."

-

-"Mr. Molloy and Miss Molloy finished their breakfast some little time

-ago, and are now out in the garden."

-

-"Ah, yes. And my uncle?"

-

-"He is up in the picture gallery with the policeman, Mr. John."

-

-John stared.

-

-"With the what?"

-

-"With the policeman, Mr. John, who's come about the burglary."

-

-"Burglary?"

-

-"Didn't you hear, Mr. John, we had a burglary last night?"

-

-The world being constituted as it is, with Fate waiting round almost

-every corner with its sandbag, it is not often that we are permitted to

-remain for long undisturbed in our moods of exaltation. John came down

-to earth swiftly.

-

-"Good heavens!"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John. And if you could spare the time...."

-

-Remorse gripped John. He felt like a sentinel who, falling asleep at

-his post, has allowed the enemy to creep past him in the night.

-

-"I must go up and see about this."

-

-"Very good, Mr. John. But if I might have a word...."

-

-"Some other time, Sturgis."

-

-He ran up the stairs to the picture gallery. Mr. Carmody and Rudge's

-one policeman were examining something by the window, and John, in the

-brief interval which elapsed before they became aware of his presence,

-was enabled to see the evidence of the disaster. Several picture

-frames, robbed of their contents, gaped at him like blank windows.

-A glass case containing miniatures had been broken and rifled. The

-Elizabethan salt cellar presented to Aymas Carmody by the Virgin Queen

-herself was no longer in its place.

-

-"Gosh!" said John.

-

-Mr. Carmody and his companion turned.

-

-"John! I thought you were in London."

-

-"I came back last night."

-

-"Did you see, or observe or hear anything of this business?" asked the

-policeman.

-

-Constable Mould was one of the slowest-witted men in Rudge, and he had

-eyes like two brown puddles filmed over with scum, but he was doing his

-best to look at John keenly.

-

-"No."

-

-"Why not?"

-

-"I wasn't here."

-

-"You said you were, sir," Constable Mould pointed out cleverly.

-

-"I mean, I wasn't anywhere near the house," replied John impatiently.

-"Immediately I arrived I went out for a row on the moat."

-

-"Then you did not see or observe anything?"

-

-"No."

-

-Constable Mould, who had been licking the tip of his pencil and holding

-a notebook in readiness, subsided disappointedly.

-

-"When did this happen?" asked John.

-

-"It is impossible to say," replied Mr. Carmody. "By a most unfortunate

-combination of circumstances the house was virtually empty from almost

-directly after dinner. Hugo and his friend, as you know, left for

-London yesterday morning. Mr. Molloy and his daughter took the car

-to Birmingham to see a play. And I myself retired to bed early with

-a headache. The man could have effected an entrance without being

-observed almost any time after eight o'clock. No doubt he actually did

-break in shortly before midnight."

-

-"How did he get in?"

-

-"Undoubtedly through this window by means of a ladder."

-

-John perceived that the glass of the window had been cut out.

-

-"Another most unfortunate thing," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "is that the

-objects stolen, though so extremely valuable, are small in actual size.

-The man could have carried them off without any inconvenience. No doubt

-they are miles away by this time, possibly even in London."

-

-"Was this here stuff insured?" asked Constable Mould.

-

-"Yes. Curiously enough, the reason my nephew here went to London

-yesterday was to increase the insurance. You saw to that matter, John?"

-

-"Oh, yes." John spoke absently. Like everybody else who has ever found

-himself on the scene of a recently committed burglary, he was looking

-about for clues. "Hullo!"

-

-"What is the matter?"

-

-"Did you see this?"

-

-"Certainly I saw it," said Mr. Carmody.

-

-"I saw it first," said Constable Mould.

-

-"The man must have cut his finger getting it."

-

-"That's what I thought," said Constable Mould.

-

-The combined Mould-Carmody-John discovery was a bloodstained

-fingerprint on the woodwork of the window sill: and, like so many

-things in this world, it had at first sight the air of being much

-more important than it really was. John said he considered it valuable

-evidence, and felt damped when Mr. Carmody pointed out that its value

-was decreased by the fact that it was not easy to search through the

-whole of England for a man with a cut finger.

-

-"I see," said John.

-

-Constable Mould said he had seen it right away.

-

-"The only thing to be done, I suppose," said Mr. Carmody resignedly,

-"is to telephone to the police in Worcester. Not that they will

-be likely to effect anything, but it is as well to observe the

-formalities. Come downstairs with me, Mould."

-

-They left the room, the constable, it seemed to John, taking none

-too kindly to the idea that there were higher powers in the world of

-detection than himself. His uncle, he considered, had shown a good

-deal of dignity in his acceptance of the disaster. Many men would have

-fussed and lost their heads, but Lester Carmody remained calm. John

-thought it showed a good spirit.

-

-He wandered about the room, hoping for more and better clues. But the

-difficulty confronting the novice on these occasions is that it is so

-hard to tell what is a clue and what is not. Probably, if he only knew,

-there were clues lying about all over the place, shouting to him to

-pick them up. But how to recognize them? Sherlock Holmes can extract a

-clue from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash. Doctor Watson has to

-have it taken out for him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label

-attached. John was forced reluctantly to the conclusion that he was

-essentially a Doctor Watson. He did not rise even to the modest level

-of a Scotland Yard Bungler.

-

-He awoke from a reverie to find Sturgis at his side.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-"Ah, Sturgis," said John absently.

-

-He was not particularly pleased to see the butler. The man looked as if

-he were about to dodder, and in moments of intense thought one does not

-wish to have doddering butlers around one.

-

-"Might I have a word, Mr. John?"

-

-John supposed he might, though he was not frightfully keen about it. He

-respected Sturgis's white hairs, but the poor old ruin had horned in at

-an unfortunate moment.

-

-"My rheumatism was very bad last night, Mr. John."

-

-John recognized the blunder he had made in being so sympathetic just

-now. At the time, feeling, as he had done, that all mankind were his

-little brothers, to inquire after and display a keen interest in

-Sturgis's rheumatism had been a natural and, one might say, unavoidable

-act. But now he regretted it. He required every cell in his brain for

-this very delicate business of clue-hunting, and it was maddening to be

-compelled to call a number of them off duty to attend to gossip about

-a butler's swollen joints. A little coldly he asked Sturgis if he had

-ever tried Christian Science.

-

-"It kept me awake a very long time, Mr. John."

-

-"I read in a paper the other day that bee stings sometimes have a good

-effect."

-

-"Bee stings, sir?"

-

-"So they say. You get yourself stung by bees, and the acid or whatever

-it is in the sting draws out the acid or whatever it is in you."

-

-Sturgis was silent for a while, and John supposed he was about to

-ask if he could direct him to a good bee. Such, however, was not the

-butler's intention. It was Sturgis, the old retainer with the welfare

-of Rudge Hall nearest his heart--not Sturgis the sufferer from twinges

-in the limbs--who was present now in the picture gallery.

-

-"It is very kind of you, Mr. John," he said, "to interest yourself, but

-what I wished to have a word with you about was this burglary of ours

-last night."

-

-This was more the stuff. John became heartier.

-

-"A most mysterious affair, Sturgis. The man apparently climbed in

-through this window, and no doubt escaped the same way."

-

-"No, Mr. John. That's what I wished to have a word with you about. He

-went away down the front stairs."

-

-"What! How do you know?"

-

-"I saw him, Mr. John."

-

-"You saw him?"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John. Owing to being kept awake by my rheumatism."

-

-The remorse which had come upon John at the moment when he had first

-heard the news of the burglary was as nothing to the remorse which

-racked him now. Just because this fine old man had one of those mild,

-goofy faces and bleated like a sheep when he talked, he had dismissed

-him without further thought as a dodderer. And all the time the

-splendid old fellow, who could not help his face and was surely not to

-be blamed if age had affected his vocal chords, had been the God from

-the Machine, sent from heaven to assist him in getting to the bottom

-of this outrage. There is no known case on record of a man patting a

-butler on the head, but John at this moment came very near to providing

-one.

-

-"You saw him!"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John."

-

-"What did he look like?"

-

-"I couldn't say, Mr. John, not really definite."

-

-"Why couldn't you?"

-

-"Because I did not really see him."

-

-"But you said you did."

-

-"Yes, Mr. John, but only in a manner of speaking."

-

-John's new-born cordiality waned a little. His first estimate, he felt,

-had been right. This was doddering, pure and simple.

-

-"How do you mean, only in a manner of speaking?"

-

-"Well, it was like this, Mr. John...."

-

-"Look here," said John. "Tell me the whole thing right from the start."

-

-Sturgis glanced cautiously at the door. When he spoke, it was in a

-lowered voice, which gave his delivery the effect of a sheep bleating

-with cotton wool in its mouth.

-

-"I was awake with my rheumatism last night, Mr. John, and at last it

-come on so bad I felt I really couldn't hardly bear it no longer. I

-lay in bed, thinking, and after I had thought for quite some time, Mr.

-John, it suddenly crossed my mind that Mr. Hugo had once remarked,

-while kindly interesting himself in my little trouble, that a glassful

-of whisky, drunk without water, frequently alleviated the pain."

-

-John nodded. So far, the story bore the stamp of truth. A glassful

-of neat whisky was just what Hugo would have recommended for any

-complaint, from rheumatism to a broken heart.

-

-"So I thought in the circumstances that Mr. Carmody would not object if

-I tried a little. So I got out of bed and put on my overcoat, and I had

-just reached the head of the stairs, it being my intention to go to the

-cellarette in the dining room, when what should I hear but a noise."

-

-"What sort of noise?"

-

-"A sort of sneezing noise, Mr. John. As it might be somebody sneezing."

-

-"Yes? Well?"

-

-"I was stottled."

-

-"Stottled? Oh, yes, I see. Well?"

-

-"I remained at the head of the stairs. For quite a while I remained at

-the head of the stairs. Then I crope ..."

-

-"You what?"

-

-"I crope to the door of the picture gallery."

-

-"Oh, I see. Yes?"

-

-"Because the sneezing seemed to have come from there. And then I heard

-another sneeze. Two or three sneezes, Mr. John. As if whoever was in

-there had got a nasty cold in the head. And then I heard footsteps

-coming toward the door."

-

-"What did you do?"

-

-"I went back to the head of the stairs again, sir. If anybody had told

-me half an hour before that I could have moved so quick I wouldn't

-have believed him. And then out of the door came a man carrying a bag.

-He had one of those electric torches. He went down the stairs, but it

-was only when he was at the bottom that I caught even a glimpse of his

-face."

-

-"But you did then?"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John, for just a moment. And I was stottled."

-

-"Why? You mean he was somebody you knew?"

-

-The butler lowered his voice again.

-

-"I could have sworn, Mr. John, it was that Doctor Twist who came over

-here the other day from Healthward Ho."

-

-"Doctor Twist!"

-

-"Yes, Mr. John. I didn't tell the policeman just now, and I wouldn't

-tell anybody but you, because after all it was only a glimpse, as

-you might say, and I couldn't swear to it, and there's defamation of

-character to be considered. So I didn't mention it to Mr. Mould when

-he was inquiring of me. I said I'd heard nothing, being in my bed at

-the time. Because, apart from defamation of character and me not being

-prepared to swear on oath, I wasn't sure how Mr. Carmody would like the

-idea of my going to the dining-room cellarette even though in agonies

-of pain. So I'd be much obliged if you would not mention it to him, Mr.

-John."

-

-"I won't."

-

-"Thank you, sir."

-

-"You'd better leave me to think this over, Sturgis."

-

-"Very good, Mr. John."

-

-"You were quite right to tell me."

-

-"Thank you, Mr. John. Are you coming downstairs to finish your

-breakfast, sir?"

-

-John waved away the material suggestion.

-

-"No. I want to think."

-

-"Very good, Mr. John."

-

-Left alone, John walked to the window and frowned meditatively out.

-His brain was now working with a rapidity and clearness which the most

-professional of detectives might have envied. For the first time since

-his cousin Hugo had come to him to have his head repaired he began to

-realize that there might have been something, after all, in that young

-man's rambling story. Taken in conjunction with what Sturgis had just

-told him, Hugo's weird tale of finding Doctor Twist burgling the house

-became significant.

-

-This Twist, now. After all, what about him? He had come from nowhere to

-settle down in Worcestershire, ostensibly in order to conduct a health

-farm. But what if that health farm were a mere blind for more dastardly

-work. After all, it was surely a commonplace that your scientific

-criminal invariably adopted some specious cover of respectability for

-his crimes....

-

-Into the radius of John's vision there came Mr. Thomas G. Molloy,

-walking placidly beside the moat with his dashing daughter. It seemed

-to John as if he had been sent at just this moment for a purpose.

-What he wanted above all things was a keen-minded sensible man of the

-world with whom to discuss these suspicions of his, and who was better

-qualified for this rôle than Mr. Molloy? Long since he had fallen

-under the spell of the other's magnetic personality, and had admired

-the breadth of his intellect. Thomas G. Molloy was, it seemed to him,

-the ideal confidant.

-

-He left the room hurriedly, and ran down the stairs.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-Mr. Molloy was still strolling beside the moat when John arrived. He

-greeted him with his usual bluff kindliness. Soapy, like John some half

-hour earlier, was feeling amiably disposed toward all mankind this

-morning.

-

-"Well, well, well!" said Soapy. "So you're back? Did you have a

-pleasant time in London?"

-

-"All right, thanks. I wanted to see you...."

-

-"You've heard about this unfortunate business last night?"

-

-"Yes. It was about that...."

-

-"I have never been so upset by anything in my life," said Mr. Molloy.

-"By pure bad luck Dolly here and myself went over to Birmingham

-after dinner to see a show, and in our absence the outrage must have

-occurred. I venture to say," went on Mr. Molloy, a stern look creeping

-into his eyes, "that if only I'd been on the spot the thing could never

-have happened. My hearing's good, and I'm pretty quick on a trigger,

-Mr. Carroll--pretty quick, let me tell you. It would have taken a right

-smart burglar to have gotten past me."

-

-"You bet it would," said Dolly. "Gee! It's a pity. And the man didn't

-leave a single trace, did he?"

-

-"A fingerprint--or it may have been a thumb print--on the sill of the

-window, honey. That was all. And I don't see what good that's going to

-do us. You can't round up the population of England and ask to see

-their thumbs."

-

-"And outside of that not so much as a single trace. Isn't it too bad!

-From start to finish not a soul set eyes on the fellow."

-

-"Yes, they did," said John. "That's what I came to talk to you about.

-One of the servants heard a noise and came out and saw him going down

-the staircase."

-

-If he had failed up to this point to secure the undivided attention of

-his audience, he had got it now. Miss Molloy seemed suddenly to come

-all eyes, and so tremendous were the joy and relief of Mr. Molloy that

-he actually staggered.

-

-"Saw him?" exclaimed Miss Molloy.

-

-"Sus-saw him?" echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.

-

-"Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?"

-

-"Twist?" said Mr. Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled

-his forehead. "Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?"

-

-"The name seems kind of familiar," admitted Miss Molloy.

-

-"He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My

-uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go

-to get into condition--a sort of health farm, I suppose you would call

-it."

-

-"Of course, yes. I have heard Mr. Carmody speak of his friend Twist.

-But...."

-

-"Apparently he called here the other day--to see my uncle, I

-suppose--and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced

-that he was the burglar."

-

-"Improbable, surely?" Mr. Molloy seemed still to be having a little

-trouble with his breath. "Surely not very probable. This man Twist,

-from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why,

-therefore.... Besides, if he owns a prosperous business...."

-

-John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument.

-Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a

-bloodhound for tenacity.

-

-"I've thought of all that. I admit it did seem curious at first. But

-if you come to look into it you can see that the very thing a burglar

-who wanted to operate in these parts would do is to start some business

-that would make people unsuspicious of him."

-

-Mr. Molloy shook his head.

-

-"It sounds far-fetched to me."

-

-John's opinion of his sturdy good sense began to diminish.

-

-"Well, anyhow," he said in his solid way, "this servant is sure he

-recognized Twist, and one can't do any harm by going over there and

-having a look at the man. I've got quite a good excuse for seeing him.

-My uncle's having a dispute about his bill, and I can say I came over

-to discuss it."

-

-"Yes," said Mr. Molloy in a strained voice. "But----"

-

-"Sure you can," said Miss Molloy, with sudden animation. "Smart of you

-to think of that. You need an excuse, if you don't want to make this

-Twist fellow suspicious."

-

-"Exactly," said John.

-

-He looked at the girl with something resembling approval.

-

-"And there's another thing," proceeded Miss Molloy, warming to her

-subject. "Don't forget that this bird, if he's the man that did the

-burgling last night, has a cut finger or thumb. If you find this Twist

-is going around with sticking plaster on him, why then that'll be

-evidence."

-

-John's approval deepened.

-

-"That's a great idea," he agreed. "What I was thinking was that I

-wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head."

-

-"A kuk-kuk-kuk...?" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my

-informant tells me."

-

-"Well, say, this begins to look like the goods," cried Miss Molloy

-gleefully. "If this fellow has a cut thumb _and_ a cold in the head,

-there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false

-whiskers and saying 'I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!' Say, listen. You

-get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to

-Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the

-more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been

-whooping it up a little too heavily for some time past, and I want to

-make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the

-stuff for a while. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist

-is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a

-fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would

-settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get

-that car out, Mr. Carroll, and we'll be off right away."

-

-John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase,

-he could not forget that his time to-day was ear-marked for other and

-higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist, of

-Healthward Ho.

-

-"I must be back here by a quarter to one," he said.

-

-"Why?"

-

-"I must."

-

-"Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the week end with

-this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've

-done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police.

-It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve."

-

-"Of course," said John. "You're perfectly right. I'll have the car out

-in a couple of minutes."

-

-He hurried off. His views concerning Miss Molloy now were definitely

-favourable. She might not be the sort of girl he could ever like,

-she might not be the sort of girl he wanted staying at the Hall, but

-it was idle to deny that she had her redeeming qualities. About her

-intelligence, for instance, there was, he felt, no doubt whatsoever.

-

-And yet it was with regard to this intelligence that Soapy Molloy was

-at this very moment entertaining doubts of the gravest kind. His eyes

-were protruding a little, and he uttered an odd, strangled sound.

-

-"It's all right, you poor sap," said Dolly, meeting his shocked gaze

-with a confident unconcern.

-

-Soapy found speech.

-

-"All right? You say it's all right? How's it all right? If you hadn't

-pulled all that stuff...."

-

-"Say, listen!" said Dolly urgently. "Where's your sense? He would have

-gone over to see Chimp anyway, wouldn't he? Nothing we could have done

-would have headed him off that, would it? And he'd noticed Chimp had a

-cut finger, without my telling him, wouldn't he? All I've done is to

-make him think I'm on the level and working in cahoots with him."

-

-"What's the use of that?"

-

-"I'll tell you what use it is. I know what I'm doing. Listen, Soapy,

-you just race into the house and get those knock-out drops and give

-them to me. And make it snappy," said Dolly.

-

-As when on a day of rain and storm there appears among the clouds a

-tiny gleam of blue, so now, at those magic words "knock-out drops," did

-there flicker into Mr. Molloy's sombre face a faint suggestion of hope.

-

-"Don't you worry, Soapy. I've got this thing well in hand. When we've

-gone you jump to the 'phone and get Chimp on the wire and tell him this

-guy and I are on our way over. Tell him I'm bringing the kayo drops and

-I'll slip them to him as soon as I arrive. Tell him to be sure to have

-something to drink handy and to see that this bird gets a taste of it."

-

-"I get you, pettie!" Mr. Molloy's manner was full of a sort of

-awe-struck reverence, like that of some humble adherent of Napoleon

-listening to his great leader outlining plans for a forthcoming

-campaign; but nevertheless it was tinged with doubt. He had always

-admired his wife's broad, spacious outlook, but she was apt sometimes,

-he considered, in her fresh young enthusiasm, to overlook details.

-"But, pettie," he said, "is this wise? Don't forget you're not in

-Chicago now. I mean, supposing you do put this fellow to sleep, he's

-going to wake up pretty soon, isn't he? And when he does won't he raise

-an awful holler?"

-

-"I've got that all fixed. I don't know what sort of staff Chimp keeps

-over at that joint of his, but he's probably got assistants and all

-like that. Well, you tell him to tell them that there's a young lady

-coming over with a brother that wants looking after, and this brother

-has got to be given a sleeping draught and locked away somewhere to

-keep him from getting violent and doing somebody an injury. That'll get

-him out of the way long enough for us to collect the stuff and clear

-out. It's rapid action now, Soapy. Now that Chimp has gummed the game

-by letting himself be seen we've got to move quick. We've got to make

-our getaway to-day. So don't you go off wandering about the fields

-picking daisies after I've gone. You stick round that 'phone, because

-I'll be calling you before long. See?"

-

-"Honey," said Mr. Molloy devoutly, "I always said you were the brains

-of the firm, and I always will say it. I'd never have thought of a

-thing like this myself in a million years."

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-It was about an hour later that Sergeant-Major Flannery, seated at his

-ease beneath a shady elm in the garden of Healthward Ho, looked up

-from the novelette over which he had been relaxing his conscientious

-mind and became aware that he was in the presence of Youth and Beauty.

-Toward him, across the lawn, was walking a girl who, his experienced

-eye assured him at a single glance, fell into that limited division of

-the Sex which is embraced by the word "Pippin." Her willowy figure was

-clothed in some clinging material of a beige colour, and her bright

-hazel eyes, when she came close enough for them to be seen, touched in

-the Sergeant-Major's susceptible bosom a ready chord. He rose from his

-seat with easy grace, and his hand, falling from the salute, came to

-rest on the western section of his waxed moustache.

-

-"Nice morning, miss," he bellowed.

-

-It seemed to Sergeant-Major Flannery that this girl was gazing upon him

-as on some wonderful dream of hers that had unexpectedly come true, and

-he was thrilled. It was unlikely, he felt, that she was about to ask

-him to perform some great knightly service for her, but if she did he

-would spring smartly to attention and do it in a soldierly manner while

-she waited. Sergeant-Major Flannery was pro-Dolly from the first moment

-of their meeting.

-

-"Are you one of Doctor Twist's assistants?" asked Dolly.

-

-"I am his only assistant, miss. Sergeant-Major Flannery is the name."

-

-"Oh? Then you look after the patients here?"

-

-"That's right, miss."

-

-"Then it is you who will be in charge of my poor brother?" She uttered

-a little sigh, and there came into her hazel eyes a look of pain.

-

-"Your brother, miss? Are you the lady...."

-

-"Did Doctor Twist tell you about my brother?"

-

-"Yes, miss. The fellow who's been...."

-

-He paused, appalled. Only by a hair's-breadth had he stopped himself

-from using in the presence of this divine creature the hideous

-expression "mopping it up a bit."

-

-"Yes," said Dolly. "I see you know about it."

-

-"All I know about it, miss," said Sergeant-Major Flannery, "is that the

-doctor had me into the orderly room just now and said he was expecting

-a young lady to arrive with her brother, who needed attention. He said

-I wasn't to be surprised if I found myself called for to lend a hand in

-a roughhouse, because this bloke--because this patient was apt to get

-verlent."

-

-"My brother does get very violent," sighed Dolly. "I only hope he won't

-do you any injury."

-

-Sergeant-Major Flannery twitched his banana-like fingers and inflated

-his powerful chest. He smiled a complacent smile.

-

-"He won't do _me_ an injury, miss. I've had experience with...." Again

-he stopped just in time, on the very verge of shocking his companion's

-ears with the ghastly noun "souses" ... "with these sort of nervous

-cases," he amended. "Besides, the doctor says he's going to give the

-gentleman a little sleeping draught, which'll keep him as you might say

-'armless till he wakes up and finds himself under lock and key."

-

-"I see. Yes, that's a very good idea."

-

-"No sense in troubling trouble till trouble troubles you, as the saying

-is, miss," agreed the Sergeant-Major. "If you can do a thing in a nice,

-easy, tactful manner without verlence, then why use verlence? Has the

-gentleman been this way long, miss?"

-

-"Four years."

-

-"You ought to have had him in a home sooner."

-

-"I have put him into dozens of homes. But he always gets out. That's

-why I'm so worried."

-

-"He won't get out of Healthward Ho, miss."

-

-"He's very clever."

-

-It was on the tip of Sergeant-Major Flannery's tongue to point out

-that other people were clever, too, but he refrained, not so much from

-modesty as because at this moment he swallowed some sort of insect.

-When he had finished coughing he found that his companion had passed on

-to another aspect of the matter.

-

-"I left him alone with Doctor Twist. I wonder if that was safe."

-

-"Quite safe, miss," the Sergeant-Major assured her. "You can see the

-window's open and the room's on the ground floor. If there's trouble

-and the gentleman starts any verlence, all the doctor's got to do is to

-shout for 'elp and I'll get to the spot at the double and climb in and

-lend a hand."

-

-His visitor regarded him with a shy admiration.

-

-"It's such a relief to feel that there's someone like you here, Mr.

-Flannery. I'm sure you are wonderful in any kind of an emergency."

-

-"People have said so, miss," replied the Sergeant-Major, stroking his

-moustache and smiling another quiet smile.

-

-"But what's worrying me is what's going to happen when my brother comes

-to after the sleeping draught and finds that he is locked up. That's

-what I meant just now when I said he was so clever. The last place he

-was in they promised to see that he stayed there, but he talked them

-into letting him out. He said he belonged to some big family in the

-neighbourhood and had been shut up by mistake."

-

-"He won't get round _me_ that way, miss."

-

-"Are you sure?"

-

-"Quite sure, miss. If there's one thing you get used to in a place like

-this, it's artfulness. You wouldn't believe how artful some of these

-gentlemen can be. Only yesterday that Admiral Sir Rigby-Rudd toppled

-over in my presence after doing his bending and stretching exercises

-and said he felt faint and he was afraid it was his heart and would

-I go and get him a drop of brandy. Anything like the way he carried

-on when I just poured half a bucketful of cold water down his back

-instead, you never heard in your life. I'm on the watch all the time, I

-can tell you, miss. I wouldn't trust my own mother if she was in here,

-taking the cure. And it's no use arguing with them and pointing out to

-them that they came here voluntarily of their own free will, and are

-paying big money to be exercised and kept away from wines, spirits, and

-rich food. They just spend their whole time thinking up ways of being

-artful."

-

-"Do they ever try to bribe you?"

-

-"No, miss," said Mr. Flannery, a little wistfully. "I suppose they take

-a look at me and think--and see that I'm not the sort of fellow that

-would take bribes."

-

-"My brother is sure to offer you money to let him go."

-

-"How much--how much good," said Sergeant-Major Flannery carefully,

-"does he think that's going to do him?"

-

-"You wouldn't take it, would you?"

-

-"Who, me, miss? Take money to betray my trust, if you understand the

-expression?"

-

-"Whatever he offers you, I will double. You see, it's so very important

-that he is kept here, where he will be safe from temptation, Mr.

-Flannery," said Dolly, timidly, "I wish you would accept this."

-

-The Sergeant-Major felt a quickening of the spirit as he gazed upon the

-rustling piece of paper in her hand.

-

-"No, no, miss," he said, taking it. "It really isn't necessary."

-

-"I know. But I would rather you had it. You see, I'm afraid my brother

-may give you a lot of trouble."

-

-"Trouble's what I'm here for, miss," said Mr. Flannery bravely.

-"Trouble's what I draw my salary for. Besides, he can't give much

-trouble when he's under lock and key, as the saying is. Don't you

-worry, miss. We're going to make this brother of yours a different man.

-We...."

-

-"Oh!" cried Dolly.

-

-A head and shoulders had shot suddenly out of the study window--the

-head and shoulders of Doctor Twist. The voice of Doctor Twist sounded

-sharply above the droning of bees and insects.

-

-"Flannery!"

-

-"On the spot, sir."

-

-"Come here, Flannery. I want you."

-

-"You stay here, miss," counselled Sergeant-Major Flannery paternally.

-"There may be verlence."

-

-

-                                   V

-

-There were, however, when Dolly made her way to the study some five

-minutes later, no signs of anything of an exciting and boisterous

-nature having occurred recently in the room. The table was unbroken,

-the carpet unruffled. The chairs stood in their places, and not even a

-picture glass had been cracked. It was evident that the operations had

-proceeded according to plan, and that matters had been carried through

-in what Sergeant-Major Flannery would have termed a nice, easy, tactful

-manner.

-

-"Everything jake?" inquired Dolly.

-

-"Uh-hum," said Chimp, speaking, however, in a voice that quavered a

-little.

-

-Mr. Twist was the only object in the room that looked in any way

-disturbed. He had turned an odd greenish colour, and from time to time

-he swallowed uneasily. Although he had spent a lifetime outside the

-law, Chimp Twist was essentially a man of peace and accustomed to look

-askance at any by-product of his profession that seemed to him to come

-under the heading of rough stuff. This doping of respectable visitors,

-he considered, was distinctly so to be classified; and only Mr.

-Molloy's urgency over the telephone wire had persuaded him to the task.

-He was nervous and apprehensive, in a condition to start at sudden

-noises.

-

-"What happened?"

-

-"Well, I did what Soapy said. After you left us the guy and I talked

-back and forth for a while, and then I agreed to knock a bit off the

-old man's bill, and then I said 'How about a little drink?' and then we

-have a little drink, and then I slip the stuff you gave me in while he

-wasn't looking. It didn't seem like it was going to act at first."

-

-"It don't. It takes a little time. You don't feel nothing till you

-jerk your head or move yourself, and then it's like as if somebody has

-beaned you one with an iron girder or something. So they tell me," said

-Dolly.

-

-"I guess he must have jerked his head, then. Because all of a sudden

-he went down and out," Chimp gulped. "You--you don't think he's ... I

-mean, you're sure this stuff...?"

-

-Dolly had nothing but contempt for these masculine tremors.

-

-"Of course. Do you suppose I go about the place croaking people? He's

-all right."

-

-"Well, he didn't look it. If I'd been a life-insurance company I'd have

-paid up on him without a yip."

-

-"He'll wake up with a headache in a little while, but outside of that

-he'll be as well as he ever was. Where have you been all your life that

-you don't know how kayo drops act?"

-

-"I've never had occasion to be connected with none of this raw work

-before," said Chimp virtuously. "If you'd of seen him when he slumped

-down on the table, you wouldn't be feeling so good yourself, maybe. If

-ever I saw a guy that looked like he was qualified to step straight

-into a coffin, he was him."

-

-"Aw, be yourself, Chimp!"

-

-"I'm being myself all right, all right."

-

-"Well, then, for Pete's sake, be somebody else. Pull yourself together,

-why can't you. Have a drink."

-

-"Ah!" said Mr. Twist, struck with the idea.

-

-His hand was still shaking, but he accomplished the delicate task of

-mixing a whisky and soda without disaster.

-

-"What did you with the remains?" asked Dolly, interested.

-

-Mr. Twist, who had been raising the glass to his lips, lowered it

-again. He disapproved of levity of speech at such a moment.

-

-"Would you kindly not call him 'the remains,'" he begged. "It's all

-very well for you to be so easy about it all and to pull this stuff

-about him doing nothing but wake up with a headache, but what I'm

-asking myself is, will he wake up at all?"

-

-"Oh, cut it out! Sure, he'll wake up."

-

-"But will it be in this world?"

-

-"You drink that up, you poor dumb-bell, and then fix yourself another,"

-advised Dolly. "And make it a bit stronger next time. You seem to need

-it."

-

-Mr. Twist did as directed, and found the treatment beneficial.

-

-"You've nothing to grumble at," Dolly proceeded, still looking on the

-bright side. "What with all this excitement and all, you seem to have

-lost that cold of yours."

-

-"That's right," said Chimp, impressed. "It does seem to have got a

-whole lot better."

-

-"Pity you couldn't have got rid of it a little earlier. Then we

-wouldn't have had all this trouble. From what I can make of it, you

-seem to have roused the house by sneezing your head off, and a bunch of

-the help come and stood looking over the banisters at you."

-

-Chimp tottered. "You don't mean somebody saw me last night?"

-

-"Sure they saw you. Didn't Soapy tell you that over the wire?"

-

-"I could hardly make out all Soapy was saying over the wire. Say! What

-are we going to do?"

-

-"Don't you worry. We've done it. The only difficult part is over. Now

-that we've fixed the remains...."

-

-"Will you please...!"

-

-"Well, call him what you like. Now that we've fixed that guy the

-thing's simple. By the way, what did you do with him?"

-

-"Flannery took him upstairs."

-

-"Where to?"

-

-"There's a room on the top floor. Must have been a nursery or

-something, I guess. Anyway, there's bars to the windows."

-

-"How's the door?"

-

-"Good solid oak. You've got to hand it to the guys who built these old

-English houses. They knew their groceries. When they spit on their

-hands and set to work to make a door, they made one. You couldn't push

-that door down, not if you was an elephant."

-

-"Well, that's all right, then. Now, listen, Chimp. Here's the low-down.

-We...." She broke off. "What's that?"

-

-"What's what?" asked Mr. Twist, starting violently.

-

-"I thought I heard someone outside in the corridor. Go and look."

-

-With an infinite caution born of alarm, Mr. Twist crept across the

-floor, reached the door and flung it open. The passage was empty. He

-looked up and down it, and Dolly, whose fingers had hovered for an

-instant over the glass which he had left on the table, sat back with an

-air of content.

-

-"My mistake," she said. "I thought I heard something."

-

-Chimp returned to the table. He was still much perturbed.

-

-"I wish I'd never gone into this thing," he said, with a sudden gush of

-self-pity. "I felt all along, what with seeing that magpie and the new

-moon through glass...."

-

-"Now, listen!" said Dolly vigorously. "Considering you've stood Soapy

-and me up for practically all there is in this thing except a little

-small change, I'll ask you kindly, if you don't mind, not to stand

-there beefing and expecting me to hold your hand and pat you on the

-head and be a second mother to you. You came into this business because

-you wanted it. You're getting sixty-five per cent. of the gross. So

-what's biting you? You're all right so far."

-

-It was in Mr. Twist's mind to inquire of his companion precisely what

-she meant by this expression, but more urgent matter claimed his

-attention. More even than the exact interpretation of the phrase "so

-far," he wished to know what the next move was.

-

-"What happens now?" he asked.

-

-"We go back to Rudge."

-

-"And collect the stuff?"

-

-"Yes. And then make our getaway."

-

-No programme could have outlined more admirably Mr. Twist's own

-desires. The mere contemplation of it heartened him. He snatched

-his glass from the table and drained it with a gesture almost

-swash-buckling.

-

-"Soapy will have doped the old man by this time, eh?"

-

-"That's right."

-

-"But suppose he hasn't been able to?" said Mr. Twist with a return of

-his old nervousness. "Suppose he hasn't had an opportunity?"

-

-"You can always find an opportunity of doping people. You ought to know

-that."

-

-The implied compliment pleased Chimp.

-

-"That's right," he chuckled.

-

-He nodded his head complacently. And immediately something which may

-have been an iron girder or possibly the ceiling and the upper parts of

-the house seemed to strike him on the base of the skull. He had been

-standing by the table, and now, crumpling at the knees, he slid gently

-down to the floor. Dolly, regarding him, recognized instantly what he

-had meant just now when he had spoken of John appearing like a total

-loss to his life-insurance company. The best you could have said of

-Alexander Twist at this moment was that he looked peaceful. She drew in

-her breath a little sharply, and then, being a woman at heart, took a

-cushion from the armchair and placed it beneath his head.

-

-Only then did she go to the telephone and in a gentle voice ask the

-operator to connect her with Rudge Hall.

-

-"Soapy?"

-

-"Hello!"

-

-The promptitude with which the summons of the bell had been answered

-brought a smile of approval to her lips. Soapy, she felt, must have

-been sitting with his head on the receiver.

-

-"Listen, sweetie."

-

-"I'm listening, pettie!"

-

-"Everything's set."

-

-"Have you fixed that guy?"

-

-"Sure, precious. And Chimp, too."

-

-"How's that? Chimp?"

-

-"Sure. We don't want Chimp around, do we, with that

-sixty-five--thirty-five stuff of his? I just slipped a couple of drops

-into his highball and he's gone off as peaceful as a lamb. Say, wait

-a minute," she added, as the wire hummed with Mr. Molloy's low-voiced

-congratulations. "Hello!" she said, returning.

-

-"What were you doing, honey? Did you hear somebody?"

-

-"No. I caught sight of a bunch of lilies in a vase, and I just slipped

-across and put one of them in Chimp's hand. Made it seem more sort of

-natural. Now listen, Soapy. Everything's clear for you at your end

-now, so go right ahead and clean up. I'm going to beat it in that guy

-Carroll's runabout, and I haven't much time, so don't start talking

-about the weather or nothing. I'm going to London, to the Belvidere.

-You collect the stuff and meet me there. Is that all straight?"

-

-"But, pettie!"

-

-"Now what?"

-

-"How am I to get the stuff away?"

-

-"For goodness' sake! You can drive a car, can't you? Old Carmody's car

-was outside the stable yard when I left. I guess it's there still. Get

-the stuff and then go and tell the chauffeur that old Carmody wants to

-see him. Then, when he's gone, climb in and drive to Birmingham. Leave

-the car outside the station and take a train. That's simple enough,

-isn't it?"

-

-There was a long pause. Admiration seemed to have deprived Mr. Molloy

-of speech.

-

-"Honey," he said at length, in a hushed voice, "when it comes to the

-real smooth stuff you're there every time. Let me just tell you...."

-

-"All right, baby," said Dolly. "Save it till later. I'm in a hurry."

-

-

-

-

-                               CHAPTER X

-

-

-                                   I

-

-Soapy Molloy replaced the receiver, and came out of the telephone

-cupboard glowing with the resolve to go right ahead and clean up as his

-helpmeet had directed. Like all good husbands, he felt that his wife

-was an example and an inspiration to him. Mopping his fine forehead,

-for it had been warm in the cupboard with the door shut, he stood for a

-while and mused, sketching out in his mind a plan of campaign.

-

-The prudent man, before embarking on any enterprise which may at a

-moment's notice necessitate his skipping away from a given spot like a

-scalded cat, will always begin by preparing his lines of retreat. Mr.

-Molloy's first act was to go to the stable yard in order to ascertain

-with his own eyes that the Dex-Mayo was still there.

-

-It was. It stood out on the gravel, simply waiting for someone to

-spring to its wheel and be off.

-

-So far, so good. But how far actually was it? The really difficult part

-of the operations, Mr. Molloy could not but recognize, still lay before

-him. The knock-out drops nestled in his waistcoat pocket all ready for

-use, but in order to bring about the happy ending it was necessary for

-him, like some conjuror doing a trick, to transfer them thence to the

-interior of Mr. Lester Carmody. And little by little, chilling his

-enthusiasm, there crept upon Soapy the realization that he had not a

-notion how the deuce this was to be done.

-

-The whole question of administering knock-out drops to a fellow

-creature is a very delicate and complex one. So much depends on the

-co-operation of the party of the second part. Before you can get

-anything in the nature of action, your victim must first be induced to

-start drinking something. At Healthward Ho, Soapy had gathered from the

-recent telephone conversation, no obstacles had arisen. The thing had

-been, apparently, from the start a sort of jolly carousal. But at Rudge

-Hall, it was plain, matters were not going to be nearly so simple.

-

-When you are a guest in a man's house, you cannot very well go about

-thrusting drinks on your host at half-past eleven in the morning.

-Probably Mr. Carmody would not think of taking liquid refreshment till

-lunchtime, and then there would be a butler in and out of the room all

-the while. Besides, lunch would not be for another two hours or more,

-and the whole essence of this enterprise was that it should be put

-through swiftly and at once.

-

-Mr. Molloy groaned in spirit. He wandered forth into the garden,

-turning the problem over in his mind with growing desperation, and had

-just come to the conclusion that he was mentally unequal to it, when,

-reaching the low wall that bordered the moat, he saw a sight which sent

-the blood coursing joyously through his veins once more--a sight which

-made the world a thing of sunshine and bird song again.

-

-Out in the middle of the moat lay the punt. In the punt sat Mr.

-Carmody. And in Mr. Carmody's hand was a fishing rod.

-

-Æsthetically considered, wearing as he did a pink shirt and a slouch

-hat which should long ago have been given to the deserving poor, Mr.

-Carmody was not much of a spectacle, but Soapy, eyeing him, felt that

-he had never beheld anything lovelier. He was not a fisherman himself,

-but he knew all about fishermen. They became, he was aware, when

-engaged on their favourite pursuit, virtually monomaniacs. Earthquakes

-might occur in their immediate neighbourhood, dynasties fall and

-pestilences ravage the land, but they would just go on fishing. As long

-as the bait held out, Lester Carmody, sitting in that punt, was for all

-essential purposes as good as if he had been crammed to the brim of the

-finest knock-out drops. It was as though he were in another world.

-

-Exhilaration filled Soapy like a tonic.

-

-"Any luck?" he shouted.

-

-"Wah, wah, wah," replied Mr. Carmody inaudibly.

-

-"Stick to it," cried Soapy. "Atta-boy!"

-

-With an encouraging wave of the hand he hurried back to the house.

-The problem which a moment before had seemed to defy solution had now

-become so simple and easy that a child could have negotiated it--any

-child, that is to say, capable of holding a hatchet and endowed with

-sufficient strength to break a cupboard door with it.

-

-"I'm telling the birds, telling the bees," sang Soapy gaily, charging

-into the hall, "Telling the flowers, telling the trees how I love

-you...."

-

-"Sir?" said Sturgis respectfully, suddenly becoming manifest out of the

-infinite.

-

-Soapy gazed at the butler blankly, his wild wood-notes dying away in a

-guttural gurgle. Apart from the embarrassment which always comes upon

-a man when caught singing, he was feeling, as Sturgis himself would

-have put it, stottled. A moment before, the place had been completely

-free from butlers, and where this one could have come from was more

-than he could understand. Rudge Hall's old retainer did not look the

-sort of man who would pop up through traps, but there seemed no other

-explanation of his presence.

-

-And then, close to the cupboard door, Soapy espied another door,

-covered with green baize. This, evidently, was the Sturgis bolt-hole.

-

-"Nothing," he said.

-

-"I thought you called, sir."

-

-"No."

-

-"Lovely day, sir."

-

-"Beautiful," said Soapy.

-

-He gazed bulgily at this inconvenient old fossil. Once more, shadows

-had fallen about his world, and he was brooding again on the deep gulf

-that is fixed between artistic conception and detail work.

-

-The broad, artistic conception of breaking open the cupboard door and

-getting away with the swag while Mr. Carmody, anchored out on the moat,

-dabbled for bream or dibbled for chub or sniggled for eels or whatever

-weak-minded thing it is that fishermen do when left to themselves in

-the middle of a sheet of water, was magnificent. It was bold, dashing,

-big in every sense of the word. Only when you came to inspect it in

-detail did it occur to you that it might also be a little noisy.

-

-That was the fatal flaw--the noise. The more Soapy examined the scheme,

-the more clearly did he see that it could not be carried through in

-even comparative quiet. And the very first blow of the hammer or axe or

-chisel selected for the operation must inevitably bring Methuselah's

-little brother popping through that green baize door, full of inquiries.

-

-"Hell!" said Soapy.

-

-"Sir?"

-

-"Nothing," said Soapy. "I was just thinking."

-

-He continued to think, and to such effect that before long he had begun

-to see daylight. There is no doubt that in time of stress the human

-mind has an odd tendency to take off its coat and roll up its sleeves

-and generally spread itself in a spasm of unwonted energy. Probably if

-this thing had been put up to Mr. Molloy as an academic problem over

-the nuts and wine after dinner, he would have had to confess himself

-baffled. Now, however, with such vital issues at stake, it took him

-but a few minutes to reach the conclusion that what he required, as he

-could not break open a cupboard door in silence, was some plausible

-reason for making a noise.

-

-He followed up this line of thought. A noise of smashing wood. In what

-branch of human activity may a man smash wood blamelessly? The answer

-is simple. When he is doing carpentering. What sort of carpentering?

-Why, making something. What? Oh, anything. Yes, but what? Well, say for

-example a rabbit hutch. But why a rabbit hutch? Well, a man might very

-easily have a daughter who, in her girlish, impulsive way, had decided

-to keep pet rabbits, mightn't he? There actually were pet rabbits on

-the Rudge Hall estate, weren't there? Certainly there were. Soapy had

-seen them down at one of the lodges.

-

-The thing began to look good. It only remained to ascertain whether

-Sturgis was the right recipient for this kind of statement. The world

-may be divided broadly into two classes--men who will believe you when

-you suddenly inform them at half-past eleven on a summer morning that

-you propose to start making rabbit hutches, and men who will not.

-Sturgis looked as if he belonged to the former and far more likeable

-class. He looked, indeed, like a man who would believe anything.

-

-"Say!" said Soapy.

-

-"Sir?"

-

-"My daughter wants me to make her a rabbit hutch."

-

-"Indeed, sir?"

-

-Soapy felt relieved. There had been no incredulity in the other's

-gaze--on the contrary, something that looked very much like a sort of

-senile enthusiasm. He had the air of a butler who had heard good news

-from home.

-

-"Have you got such a thing as a packing case or a sugar box or

-something like that? And a hatchet?"

-

-"Yes, sir."

-

-"Then fetch them along."

-

-"Very good, sir."

-

-The butler disappeared through his green baize door, and Soapy, to fill

-in the time of waiting, examined the cupboard. It appeared to be a

-very ordinary sort of cupboard, the kind that a resolute man can open

-with one well-directed blow. Soapy felt complacent. Though primarily a

-thinker, it pleased him to feel that he could be the man of action when

-the occasion called.

-

-There was a noise of bumping without. Sturgis reappeared, packing case

-in one hand, hatchet in the other, looking like Noah taking ship's

-stores aboard the Ark.

-

-"Here they are, sir."

-

-"Thanks."

-

-"I used to keep roberts when I was a lad, sir," said the butler. "Oh,

-dear, yes. Many's the robert I've made a pet of in my time. Roberts and

-white mice, those were what I was fondest of. And newts in a little

-aquarium."

-

-He leaned easily against the wall, beaming, and Soapy, with deep

-concern, became aware that the Last of the Great Victorians proposed to

-make this thing a social gathering. He appeared to be regarding Soapy

-as the nucleus of a salon.

-

-"Don't let me keep you," said Soapy.

-

-"You aren't keeping me, sir," the butler assured him. "Oh, no, sir, you

-aren't keeping me. I've done my silver. It will be a pleasure to watch

-you, sir. Quite likely I can give you a hint or two if you've never

-made a robert hutch before. Many's the hutch I've made in my time. As a

-lad, I was very handy at that sort of thing."

-

-A dull despair settled upon Soapy. It was plain to him now that he had

-unwittingly delivered himself over into the clutches of a bore who

-had probably been pining away for someone on whom to pour out his

-wealth of stored-up conversation. Words had begun to flutter out of

-this butler like bats out of a barn. He had become a sort of human

-Topical Talk on rabbits. He was speaking of rabbits he had known in

-his hot youth--their manners, customs, and the amount of lettuce they

-had consumed per diem. To a man interested in rabbits but too lazy to

-look the subject up in the encyclopædia the narrative would have been

-enthralling. It induced in Soapy a feverishness that touched the skirts

-of homicidal mania. The thought came into his mind that there are

-other uses to which a hatchet may be put besides the making of rabbit

-hutches. England trembled on the verge of being short one butler.

-

-Sturgis had now become involved in a long story of his early manhood,

-and even had Soapy been less distrait he might have found it difficult

-to enjoy it to the full. It was about an acquaintance of his who had

-kept rabbits, and it suffered in lucidity from his unfortunate habit

-of pronouncing rabbits "roberts," combined with the fact that by a

-singular coincidence the acquaintance had been a Mr. Roberts. Roberts,

-it seemed, had been deeply attached to roberts. In fact, his practice

-of keeping roberts in his bedroom had led to trouble with Mrs. Roberts,

-and in the end Mrs. Roberts had drowned the roberts in the pond and

-Roberts, who thought the world of his roberts and not quite so highly

-of Mrs. Roberts, had never forgiven her.

-

-Here Sturgis paused, apparently for comment.

-

-"Is that so?" said Soapy, breathing heavily.

-

-"Yes, sir."

-

-"In the pond?"

-

-"In the pond, sir."

-

-Like some Open Sesame, the word suddenly touched a chord in Soapy's

-mind.

-

-"Say, listen," he said. "All the while we've been talking I was

-forgetting that Mr. Carmody is out there on the pond."

-

-"The moat, sir?"

-

-"Call it what you like. Anyway, he's there, fishing, and he told me to

-tell you to take him out something to drink."

-

-Immediately, Sturgis, the lecturer, with a change almost startling in

-its abruptness, became Sturgis, the butler, once more. The fanatic

-rabbit-gleam died out of his eyes.

-

-"Very good, sir."

-

-"I should hurry. His tongue was hanging out when I left him."

-

-For an instant the butler wavered. The words had recalled to his mind a

-lop-eared doe which he had once owned, whose habit of putting out its

-tongue and gasping had been the cause of some concern to him in the

-late 'seventies. But he recovered himself. Registering a mental resolve

-to seek out this new-made friend of his later and put the complete

-facts before him, he passed through the green baize door.

-

-Soapy, alone at last, did not delay. With all the pent up energy which

-had been accumulating within him during a quarter of an hour which had

-seemed a lifetime, he swung the hatchet and brought it down. The panel

-splintered. The lock snapped. The door swung open.

-

-There was an electric switch inside the cupboard. He pressed it down

-and was able to see clearly. And, having seen clearly, he drew back,

-his lips trembling with half-spoken words of the regrettable kind which

-a man picks up in the course of a lifetime spent in the less refined

-social circles of New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago.

-

-The cupboard contained an old raincoat, two hats, a rusty golf club,

-six croquet balls, a pamphlet on stock-breeding, three umbrellas, a

-copy of the _Parish Magazine_ for the preceding November, a shoe, a

-mouse, and a smell of apples, but no suitcase.

-

-That much Soapy had been able to see in the first awful, disintegrating

-instant.

-

-No bag, box, portmanteau, or suitcase of any kind or description

-whatsoever.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Hope does not readily desert the human breast. After the first numbing

-impact of any shock, we most of us have a tendency to try to persuade

-ourselves that things may not be so bad as they seem. Some explanation,

-we feel, will be forthcoming shortly, putting the whole matter in a

-different light. And so, after a few moments during which he stood

-petrified, muttering some of the comments which on the face of it the

-situation seemed to demand, Soapy cheered up a little.

-

-He had had, he reflected, no opportunity of private speech with his

-host this morning. If Mr. Carmody had decided to change his plans and

-deposit the suitcase in some other hiding place he might have done so

-in quite good faith without Soapy's knowledge. For all he knew, in

-mentally labelling Mr. Carmody as a fat, pop-eyed, crooked, swindling,

-pie-faced, double-crossing Judas, he might be doing him an injustice.

-Feeling calmer, though still anxious, he left the house and started

-toward the moat.

-

-Half-way down the garden, he encountered Sturgis, returning with an

-empty tray.

-

-"You must have misunderstood Mr. Carmody, sir," said the butler,

-genially, as one rabbit fancier to another. "He says he did not ask for

-any drink. But he came ashore and had it. If you're looking for him,

-you will find him in the boathouse."

-

-And in the boathouse Mr. Carmody was, lolling at his ease on the

-cushions of the punt, sipping the contents of a long glass.

-

-"Hullo," said Mr. Carmody. "There you are."

-

-Soapy descended the steps. What he had to say was not the kind of thing

-a prudent man shouts at long range.

-

-"Say!" said Soapy in a cautious undertone. "I've been trying to get a

-word with you all the morning. But that darned policeman was around all

-the time."

-

-"Something on your mind?" said Mr. Carmody affably. "I've caught two

-perch, a bream, and a grayling," he added, finishing the contents of

-his glass with a good deal of relish.

-

-Such was the condition of Soapy's nervous system that he very nearly

-damned the perch, the bream, and the grayling, in the order named. But

-he checked himself in time. If ever, he felt, there was a moment when

-diplomacy was needed, this was it.

-

-"Listen," he said, "I've been thinking."

-

-"Yes?"

-

-"I've been wondering if, after all, that closet you were going to put

-the stuff in is a safe place. Somebody might be apt to take a look in

-it. Maybe," said Soapy, tensely, "that occurred to you?"

-

-"What makes you think that?"

-

-"It just crossed my mind."

-

-"Oh? I thought perhaps you might have been having a look in that

-cupboard yourself."

-

-Soapy moistened his lips, which had become uncomfortably dry.

-

-"But you locked it, surely?" he said.

-

-"Yes, I locked it," said Mr. Carmody. "But it struck me that after you

-had got the butler out of the way by telling him to bring me a drink,

-you might have thought of breaking the door open."

-

-In the silence which followed this devastating remark there suddenly

-made itself heard an odd, gurgling noise like a leaking cistern, and

-Soapy, gazing at his host, was shocked to observe that he had given

-himself up to an apoplectic spasm of laughter. Mr. Carmody's rotund

-body was quivering like a jelly. His eyes were closed, and he was

-rocking himself to and fro. And from his lips proceeded those hideous

-sounds of mirth.

-

-The hope which until this moment had been sustaining Soapy had never

-been a strong, robust hope. From birth it had been an invalid. And now,

-as he listened to this laughter, the poor, sickly thing coughed quietly

-and died.

-

-"Oh dear!" said Mr. Carmody, recovering. "Very funny. Very funny."

-

-"You think it's funny, do you?" said Soapy.

-

-"I do," said Mr. Carmody sincerely. "I wish I could have seen your face

-when you looked in that cupboard."

-

-Soapy had nothing to say. He was beaten, crushed, routed, and he knew

-it. He stared out hopelessly on a bleak world. Outside the boathouse

-the sun was still shining, but not for Soapy.

-

-"I've seen through you all along, my man," proceeded Mr. Carmody, with

-ungenerous triumph. "Not from the very beginning, perhaps, because I

-really did suppose for a while that you were what you professed to be.

-The first thing that made me suspicious was when I cabled over to New

-York to make inquiries about a well-known financier named Thomas G.

-Molloy and was informed that no such person existed."

-

-Soapy did not speak. The bitterness of his meditations precluded words.

-His eyes were fixed on the trees and flowers on the other side of the

-water, and he was disliking these very much. Nature had done its best

-for the scene, and he thought Nature a washout.

-

-"And then," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "I listened outside the study window

-while you and your friends were having your little discussion. And

-I heard all I wanted to hear. Next time you have one of these board

-meetings of yours, Mr. Molloy, I suggest that you close the window and

-lower your voices."

-

-"Yeah?" said Soapy.

-

-It was not, he forced himself to admit, much of a retort, but it was

-the best he could think of. He was in the depths, and men who are in

-the depths seldom excel in the matter of rapier-like repartee.

-

-"I thought the matter over, and decided that my best plan was to allow

-matters to proceed. I was disappointed, of course, to discover that

-that cheque of yours for a million or two million or whatever it was

-would not be coming my way. But," said Mr. Carmody philosophically,

-"there is always the insurance money. It should amount to a nice little

-sum. Not what a man like you, accustomed to big transactions with Mr.

-Schwab and Pierpont Morgan, would call much, of course, but quite

-satisfactory to me."

-

-"You think so?" said Soapy, goaded to speech. "You think you're going

-to clean up on the insurance?"

-

-"I do."

-

-"Then, say, listen, let me tell you something. The insurance company

-is going to send a fellow down to inquire, isn't it? Well, what's to

-prevent me spilling the beans?"

-

-"I beg your pardon?"

-

-"What's to keep me from telling him the burglary was a put-up job?"

-

-Mr. Carmody smiled tranquilly.

-

-"Your good sense, I should imagine. How could you make such a story

-credible without involving yourself in more unpleasantness than I

-should imagine you would desire? I think I shall be able to rely on you

-for sympathetic silence, Mr. Molloy."

-

-"Yeah?"

-

-"I think so."

-

-And Soapy, reflecting, thought so, too. For the process of

-bean-spilling to be enjoyable, he realized, the conditions have to be

-right.

-

-"I am offering a little reward," said Mr. Carmody, gently urging the

-punt out into the open, "just to make everything seem more natural.

-One thousand pounds is the sum I am proposing to give for the recovery

-of this stolen property. You had better try for that. Well, I must not

-keep you here all the morning, chattering away like this. No doubt you

-have much to do."

-

-The punt floated out into the sunshine, and the roof of the boathouse

-hid this fat, conscienceless man from Soapy's eyes. From somewhere out

-in the great open spaces beyond came the sound of a paddle, wielded

-with a care-free joyousness. Whatever might be his guest's state of

-mind, Mr. Carmody was plainly in the pink.

-

-Soapy climbed the steps listlessly. The interview had left him weak

-and shaken. He brooded dully on this revelation of the inky depths of

-Lester Carmody's soul. It seemed to him that if this was what England's

-upper classes (who ought to be setting an example) were like, Great

-Britain could not hope to continue much longer as a first-class power,

-and it gave him in his anguish a little satisfaction to remember that

-in years gone by his ancestors had thrown off Britain's yoke. Beyond

-burning his eyebrows one Fourth of July, when a boy, with a maroon

-that exploded prematurely, he had never thought much about this affair

-before, but now he was conscious of a glow of patriotic fervour. If

-General Washington had been present at that moment Soapy would have

-shaken hands with him.

-

-Soapy wandered aimlessly through the sunlit garden. The little spurt

-of consolation caused by the reflection that some hundred and fifty

-years ago the United States of America had severed relations with a

-country which was to produce a man like Lester Carmody had long since

-ebbed away, leaving emptiness behind it. He was feeling very low, and

-in urgent need of one of those largely advertised tonics which claim to

-relieve Anæmia, Brain-Fag, Lassitude, Anxiety, Palpitations, Faintness,

-Melancholia, Exhaustion, Neurasthenia, Muscular Limpness, and

-Depression of Spirits. For he had got them all, especially brain-fag

-and melancholia; and the sudden appearance of Sturgis, fluttering

-toward him down the gravel path, provided nothing in the nature of a

-cure.

-

-He felt that he had had all he wanted of the butler's conversation.

-Even of the most stimulating society enough is enough, and to Soapy

-about half a minute of Sturgis seemed a good medium dose for an adult.

-He would have fled, but there was nowhere to go. He remained where he

-was, making his expression as forbidding as possible. A motion-picture

-director could have read that expression like a book. Soapy was

-registering deep disinclination to talk about rabbits.

-

-But for the moment, it appeared, Sturgis had put rabbits on one side.

-Other matters occupied his mind.

-

-"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but have you seen Mr. John?"

-

-"Mr. who?"

-

-"Mr. John, sir."

-

-So deep was Soapy's preoccupation that for a moment the name conveyed

-nothing to him.

-

-"Mr. Carmody's nephew, sir. Mr. Carroll."

-

-"Oh? Yes, he went off in his car with my daughter."

-

-"Will he be gone long, do you think, sir?"

-

-Soapy could answer that one.

-

-"Yes," he said. "He won't be back for some time."

-

-"You see, when I took Mr. Carmody his drink, sir, he told me to tell

-Bolt, the chauffeur, to give me the ticket."

-

-"What ticket?" asked Soapy wearily.

-

-The butler was only too glad to reply. He had feared that this talk of

-theirs might be about to end all too quickly, and these explanations

-helped to prolong it. And, now that he knew that there was no need to

-go on searching for John, his time was his own again.

-

-"It was a ticket for a bag which Mr. Carmody sent Bolt to leave at the

-cloak room at Shrub Hill station, in Worcester, this morning, sir. I

-now ascertain from Bolt that he gave it to Mr. John to give to Mr.

-Carmody."

-

-"What!" cried Soapy.

-

-"And Mr. John has apparently gone off without giving it to him.

-However, no doubt it is quite safe. Did you make satisfactory progress

-with the hutch, sir?"

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"The robert hutch, sir."

-

-"What?"

-

-A look of concern came into Sturgis's face. His companion's manner was

-strange.

-

-"Is anything the matter, sir?"

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"Shall I bring you something to drink, sir?"

-

-Few men ever become so distrait that this particular question fails to

-penetrate. Soapy nodded feverishly. Something to drink was precisely

-what at this moment he felt he needed most. Moreover, the process of

-fetching it would relieve him for a time, at least, of the society of

-a butler who seemed to combine in equal proportions the outstanding

-characteristics of a porous plaster and a gadfly.

-

-"Yes," he replied.

-

-"Very good, sir."

-

-

-                                  III

-

-Soapy's mind was in a whirl. He could almost feel the brains inside his

-head heaving and tossing like an angry ocean. So that was what that

-smooth old crook had done with the stuff--stored it away in a Left

-Luggage office at a railway station! If circumstances had been such

-as to permit of a more impartial and detached attitude of mind, Soapy

-would have felt for Mr. Carmody's resource and ingenuity nothing but

-admiration. A Left Luggage office was an ideal place in which to store

-stolen property, as good as the innermost recesses of some safe deposit

-company's deepest vault.

-

-But, numerous as were the emotions surging in his bosom, admiration was

-not one of them. For a while he gave himself up almost entirely to that

-saddest of mental exercises, the brooding on what might have been. If

-only he had known that John had the ticket...!

-

-But he was a practical man. It was not his way to waste time torturing

-himself with thoughts of past failures. The future claimed his

-attention.

-

-What to do?

-

-All, he perceived, was not yet lost. It would be absurd to pretend

-that things were shaping themselves ideally, but disaster might still

-be retrieved. It would be embarrassing, no doubt, to meet Chimp Twist

-after what had occurred, but a man who would win to wealth must learn

-to put up with embarrassments. The only possible next move was to go

-over to Healthward Ho, reveal to Chimp what had occurred, and with his

-co-operation recover the ticket from John.

-

-Soapy brightened. Another possibility had occurred to him. If he were

-to reach Healthward Ho with the minimum of delay, it might be that

-he would find both Chimp and John still under the influence of those

-admirable drops, in which case a man of his resource would surely be

-able to insinuate himself into John's presence long enough to be able

-to remove a Left Luggage ticket from his person.

-

-But if 'twere done, then, 'twere well 'twere done quickly. What he

-needed was the Dex-Mayo. And the Dex-Mayo was standing outside the

-stable yard, waiting for him. He became a thing of dash and activity.

-For many years he had almost given up the exercise of running, but he

-ran now like the lissom athlete he had been in his early twenties.

-

-And as he came panting round the back of the house the first thing he

-saw was the tail end of the car disappearing into the stable yard.

-

-"Hi!" shouted Soapy, using for the purpose the last remains of his

-breath.

-

-The Dex-Mayo vanished. And Soapy, very nearly a spent force now,

-arrived at the opening of the stable yard just in time to see Bolt, the

-chauffeur, putting the key of the garage in his pocket after locking

-the door.

-

-Bolt was a thing of beauty. He gleamed in the sunshine. He was wearing

-a new hat, his Sunday clothes, and a pair of yellow shoes that might

-have been bits chipped off the sun itself. There was a carnation in his

-buttonhole. He would have lent tone to a garden party at Buckingham

-Palace.

-

-He regarded Soapy with interest.

-

-"Been having a little run, sir?"

-

-"The car!" croaked Soapy.

-

-"I've just put it away, sir. Mr. Carmody has given me the day off to

-attend the wedding of the wife's niece over at Upton Snodsbury."

-

-"I want the car."

-

-"I've just put it away, sir," said Bolt, speaking more slowly and with

-the manner of one explaining something to an untutored foreigner. "Mr.

-Carmody has given me the day off. Mrs. Bolt's niece is being married

-over at Upton Snodsbury. And she's got a lovely day for it," said the

-chauffeur, glancing at the sky with something as near approval as a

-chauffeur ever permits himself. "Happy the bride that the sun shines

-on, they say. Not that I agree altogether with these old sayings. I

-know that when I and Mrs. Bolt was married it rained the whole time

-like cats and dogs, and we've been very happy. Very happy indeed

-we've been, taking it by and large. I don't say we haven't had our

-disagreements, but, taking it one way and another...."

-

-It began to seem to Soapy that the staffs of English country houses

-must be selected primarily for their powers of conversation. Every

-domestic with whom he had come in contact in Rudge Hall so far had

-at his disposal an apparently endless flow of lively small-talk.

-The butler, if you let him, would gossip all day about rabbits,

-and here was the chauffeur apparently settling down to dictate his

-autobiography. And every moment was precious!

-

-With a violent effort he contrived to take in a stock of breath.

-

-"I want the car, to go to Healthward Ho. I can drive it."

-

-The chauffeur's manner changed. Up till now he had been the cheery

-clubman meeting an old friend in the smoking room and drawing him aside

-for a long, intimate chat, but at this shocking suggestion he froze. He

-gazed at Soapy with horrified incredulity.

-

-"Drive the Dex-Mayo, sir?" he gasped.

-

-"Over to Healthward Ho."

-

-The crisis passed. Bolt swallowed convulsively and was himself once

-more. One must be patient, he realized, with laymen. They do not

-understand. When they come to a chauffeur and calmly propose that their

-vile hands shall touch his sacred steering-wheel they are not trying to

-be deliberately offensive. It is simply that they do not know.

-

-"I'm afraid that wouldn't quite do, sir," he said with a faint,

-reproving smile.

-

-"Do you think I can't drive?"

-

-"Not the Dex-Mayo you can't, sir." Bolt spoke a little curtly, for

-he had been much moved and was still shaken. "Mr. Carmody don't like

-nobody handling his car but me."

-

-"But I must go over to Healthward Ho. It's important. Business."

-

-The chauffeur reflected. Fundamentally he was a kindly man, who liked

-to do his Good Deed daily.

-

-"Well, sir, there's an old push-bike of mine lying in the stables. You

-could take that if you liked. It's a little rusty, not having been used

-for some time, but I dare say it would carry you as far as Healthward

-Ho."

-

-Soapy hesitated for a moment. The thought of a twenty-mile journey on

-a machine which he had always supposed to have become obsolete during

-his knickerbocker days made him quail a little. Then the thought of his

-mission lent him strength. He was a desperate man, and desperate men

-must do desperate things.

-

-"Fetch it out!" he said.

-

-Bolt fetched it out, and Soapy, looking upon it, quailed again.

-

-"Is that it?" he said dully.

-

-"That's it, sir," said the chauffeur.

-

-There was only one adjective to describe this push-bike--the adjective

-"blackguardly." It had that leering air, shared by some parrots and the

-baser variety of cat, of having seen and been jauntily familiar with

-all the sin of the world. It looked low and furtive. Its handle-bars

-curved up instead of down, it had gaps in its spokes, and its pedals

-were naked and unashamed. A sans-culotte of a bicycle. The sort of

-bicycle that snaps at strangers.

-

-"H'm!" said Soapy, ruminating.

-

-"Yes," said Soapy, still ruminating.

-

-Then he remembered again how imperative was the need of reaching

-Healthward Ho somehow.

-

-"All right," he said, with a shudder.

-

-He climbed onto the machine, and after one majestic wobble passed

-through the gates into the park, pedalling bravely. As he disappeared

-from view, there floated back to Bolt, standing outside the stable

-yard, a single, agonized "Ouch!"

-

-Chauffeurs do not laugh, but they occasionally smile. Bolt smiled. He

-had been bitten by that bicycle himself.

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-It was twenty minutes past one that butler Sturgis, dozing in his

-pantry, was jerked from slumber by the sound of the telephone bell.

-He had been hoping for an uninterrupted siesta, for he had had a

-perplexing and trying morning. First, on top of the most sensational

-night of his life, there had been all the nervous excitement of seeing

-policemen roaming about the place. Then the American gentleman, Mr.

-Molloy, had told him that Mr. Carmody wanted something to drink, and

-Mr. Carmody had denied having ordered it. Then Mr. Molloy had asked

-for a drink himself and had disappeared without waiting to get it.

-And, finally, there was the matter of the cupboard. Mr. Molloy, after

-starting to build a rabbit hutch, had apparently suspended operations

-in favour of smashing in the door of the cupboard at the foot of the

-stairs. It was all very puzzling to Sturgis, and, like most men of

-settled habit, he found the process of being puzzled upsetting.

-

-He went to the telephone, and a silver voice came to him over the wire.

-

-"Is this the Hall? I want to speak to Mr. Carroll."

-

-Sturgis recognized the voice.

-

-"Miss Wyvern?"

-

-"Yes. Is that Sturgis? I say, Sturgis, what has become of Mr. Carroll?

-I was expecting him here half an hour ago. Have you seen him about

-anywhere?"

-

-"I have not seen him since shortly after breakfast, miss. I understand

-that he went off in his little car with Miss Molloy."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Yes, miss. Some time ago."

-

-There was silence at the other end of the wire.

-

-"With Miss Molloy?" said the silver voice flatly.

-

-"Yes, miss."

-

-Silence again.

-

-"Did he say when he would be back?"

-

-"No, miss. But I understand that he was not proposing to return till

-quite late in the day."

-

-More silence.

-

-"Oh?"

-

-"Yes, miss. Any message I can give him?"

-

-"No, thank you.... No...! No, it doesn't matter."

-

-"Very good, miss."

-

-Sturgis returned to his pantry. Pat, hanging up the receiver, went out

-into her garden. Her face was set, and her lips compressed.

-

-A snail crossed her path. She did not tread on it, for she had a kind

-heart, but she gave it a look. It was a look which, had it reached

-John, at whom it was really directed, would have scorched him.

-

-She walked to the gate and stood leaning on it, staring straight before

-her.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER XI

-

-

-                                   I

-

-It had been the opinion of Dolly Molloy, expressed during her

-conversation with Mr. Twist, that John, on awaking from his drugged

-slumber, would find himself suffering a headache. The event proved her

-a true prophet.

-

-John, as became one who prized physical fitness, had been all his life

-a rather unusually abstemious young man. But on certain rare occasions

-dotted through the years of his sojourn at Oxford he had permitted

-himself to relax. As for instance, the night of his twenty-first

-birthday ... Boat-Race Night in his freshman year ... and, perhaps

-most notable of all, the night of the university football match in

-the season when he had first found a place in the Oxford team and

-had helped to win one of the most spectacular games ever seen at

-Twickenham. To celebrate each of these events he had lapsed from his

-normal austerity, and every time had wakened on the morrow to a world

-full of grayness and horror and sharp, shooting pains. But never had he

-experienced anything to compare with what he was feeling now.

-

-He was dimly conscious that strange things must have been happening to

-him, and that these things had ended by depositing him on a strange

-bed in a strange room, but he was at present in no condition to give

-his situation any sustained thought. He merely lay perfectly still,

-concentrating all his powers on the difficult task of keeping his head

-from splitting in half.

-

-When eventually, moving with exquisite care, he slid from the bed and

-stood up, the first thing of which he became aware was that the sun

-had sunk so considerably that it was now shining almost horizontally

-through the barred window of the room. The air, moreover, which

-accompanied its rays through the window had that cool fragrance which

-indicates the approach of evening.

-

-Poets have said some good things in their time about this particular

-hour of the day, but to John on this occasion it brought no romantic

-thoughts. He was merely bewildered. He had started out from Rudge not

-long after eleven in the morning, and here it was late afternoon.

-

-He moved to the window, feeling like Rip van Winkle. And presently the

-sweet air, playing about his aching brow, restored him so considerably

-that he was able to make deductions and arrive at the truth. The last

-thing he could recollect was the man Twist handing him a tall glass. In

-that glass, it now became evident, must have lurked the cause of all

-his troubles. With an imbecile lack of the most elementary caution,

-inexcusable in one who had been reading detective stories all his life,

-he had allowed himself to be drugged.

-

-It was a bitter thought, but he was not permitted to dwell on it for

-long. Gradually, driving everything else from his mind, there stole

-upon him the realization that unless he found something immediately

-to slake the thirst which was burning him up he would perish of

-spontaneous combustion. There was a jug on the wash stand, and,

-tottering to it, he found it mercifully full to the brim. For the next

-few moments he was occupied, to the exclusion of all other mundane

-matters, with the task of seeing how much of the contents of this jug

-he could swallow without pausing for breath.

-

-This done, he was at leisure to look about him and examine the position

-of affairs.

-

-That he was a prisoner was proved directly he tested the handle of the

-door. And, as further evidence, there were those bars on the window.

-Whatever else might be doubtful, the one thing certain was that he

-would have to remain in this room until somebody came along and let him

-out.

-

-His first reaction on making this discovery was a feeling of irritation

-at the silliness of the whole business. Where was the sense of it? Did

-this man Twist suppose that in the heart of peaceful Worcestershire he

-could immure a fellow for ever in an upper room of his house?

-

-And then his clouded intellect began to function more nimbly. Twist's

-behaviour, he saw, was not so childish as he had supposed. It had been

-imperative for him to gain time in order to get away with his loot;

-and, John realized, he had most certainly gained it. And the longer

-he remained in this room, the more complete would be the scoundrel's

-triumph.

-

-John became active. He went to the door again and examined it

-carefully. A moment's inspection showed him that nothing was to be

-hoped for from that quarter. A violent application of his shoulder did

-not make the solid oak so much as quiver.

-

-He tried the window. The bars were firm. Tugging had no effect on them.

-

-There seemed to John only one course to pursue.

-

-He shouted.

-

-It was an injudicious move. The top of his head did not actually come

-off, but it was a very near thing. By a sudden clutch at both temples

-he managed to avert disaster in the nick of time, and tottered weakly

-to the bed. There for some minutes he remained while unseen hands drove

-red-hot rivets into his skull.

-

-Presently the agony abated. He was able to rise again and make his way

-feebly to the jug, which he had now come to look on as his only friend

-in the world.

-

-He had just finished his second non-stop draught when something

-attracted his notice out of the corner of his eye, and he saw that in

-the window beside him were framed a head and shoulders.

-

-"Hoy!" observed the head in a voice like a lorry full of steel girders

-passing over cobblestones. "I've brought you a cuppertea."

-

-

-                                  II

-

-The head was red in colour and ornamented half-way down by a large and

-impressive moustache, waxed at the ends. The shoulders were broad and

-square, the eyes prawn-like. The whole apparition, in short, one could

-tell at a glance, was a sample or first instalment of the person of

-a sergeant-major. And unless he had dropped from heaven--which, from

-John's knowledge of sergeant-majors, seemed unlikely--the newcomer

-must be standing on top of a ladder.

-

-And such, indeed, was the case. Sergeant-Major Flannery, though no

-acrobat, had nobly risked life and limb by climbing to this upper

-window to see how his charge was getting on and to bring him a little

-refreshment.

-

-"Take your cuppertea, young fellow," said Mr. Flannery.

-

-The hospitality had arrived too late. In the matter of tea-drinking

-John was handicapped by the fact that he had just swallowed

-approximately a third of a jug of water. He regretted to be compelled

-to reject the contribution for lack of space. But as what he desired

-most at the moment was human society and conversation, he advanced

-eagerly to the window.

-

-"Who are you?" he asked.

-

-"Flannery's my name, young fellow."

-

-"How did I get here?"

-

-"In that room?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"I put you there."

-

-"You did, did you?" said John. "Open this door at once, damn you!"

-

-The Sergeant-Major shook his head.

-

-"Language!" he said reprovingly. "Profanity won't do you no good, young

-man. Cursing and swearing won't 'elp you. You just drink your cuppertea

-and don't let's have no nonsense. If you'd made a 'abit in the past of

-drinking more tea and less of the other thing, you wouldn't be in what

-I may call your present predicament."

-

-"Will you open this door?"

-

-"No, sir. I will not open that door. There aren't going to be no doors

-opened till your conduct and behaviour has been carefully examined in

-the course of a day or so and we can be sure there'll be no verlence."

-

-"Listen," said John, curbing a desire to jab at this man through the

-bars with the teaspoon. "I don't know who you are...."

-

-"Flannery's the name, sir, as I said before. Sergeant-Major Flannery."

-

-"... but I can't believe you're in this business...."

-

-"Indeed I am, sir. I am Doctor Twist's assistant."

-

-"But this man is a criminal, you fool...."

-

-Sergeant-Major Flannery seemed pained rather than annoyed.

-

-"Come, come, sir. A little civility, if you please. This, what I may

-call contumacious attitude, isn't helping you. Surely you can see that

-for yourself? Always remember, sir, the voice with the smile wins."

-

-"This fellow Twist burgled our house last night. And all the while

-you're keeping me shut up here he's getting away."

-

-"Is that so, sir? What house would that be?"

-

-"Rudge Hall."

-

-"Never heard of it."

-

-"It's near Rudge-in-the-Vale. Twenty miles from here. Mr. Carmody's

-place."

-

-"Mr. Lester Carmody who was here taking the cure?"

-

-"Yes. I'm his nephew."

-

-"His nephew, eh?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Come, come!"

-

-"What do you mean?"

-

-"It so 'appens," said Mr. Flannery, with quiet satisfaction, removing

-one hand from the window bars in order to fondle his moustache, "that

-I've seen Mr. Carmody's nephew. Tallish, thinnish, pleasant-faced young

-fellow. He was over here to visit Mr. Carmody during the latter's

-temp'ry residence. I had him pointed out to me."

-

-Painful though the process was, John felt compelled to grit his teeth.

-

-"That was Mr. Carmody's other nephew."

-

-"Other nephew, eh?"

-

-"My cousin."

-

-"Your cousin, eh?"

-

-"His name's Hugo."

-

-"Hugo, eh?"

-

-"Good God!" cried John. "Are you a parrot?"

-

-Mr. Flannery, if he had not been standing on a ladder, would no doubt

-have drawn himself up haughtily at this outburst. Being none too

-certain of his footing, he contented himself with looking offended.

-

-"No, sir," he said with a dignity which became him well, "in reply to

-your question, I am not a parrot. I am a salaried assistant at Doctor

-Twist's health-establishment, detailed to look after the patients and

-keep them away from the cigarettes and see that they do their exercises

-in a proper manner. And, as I said to the young lady, I understand

-human nature and am a match for artfulness of any description. What's

-more, it was precisely this kind of artfulness on your part that

-the young lady warned me against. 'Be careful, Sergeant-Major,' she

-said to me, clasping her 'ands in what I may call an agony of appeal,

-'that this poor, misguided young son of a what-not don't come it over

-you with his talk about being the Lost Heir of some family living in

-the near neighbourhood. Because he's sure to try it on, you can take

-it from me, Sergeant-Major,' she said. And I said to the young lady,

-'Miss,' I said, 'he won't come it over Egbert Flannery. Not him. I've

-seen too much of that sort of thing, miss,' I said. And the young lady

-said, 'Gawd's strewth, Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'I wish there was

-more men in the world like you, Sergeant-Major, because then it would

-be a dam' sight better place than it is, Sergeant-Major.'" He paused.

-Then, realizing an omission, added the words, "she said."

-

-John clutched at his throbbing head.

-

-"Young lady? What young lady?"

-

-"You know well enough what young lady, sir. The young lady what brought

-you here to leave you in our charge. That young lady."

-

-"That young lady?"

-

-"Yes, sir. The one who brought you here."

-

-"Brought me here?"

-

-"And left you in our charge."

-

-"Left me in your charge?"

-

-"Come, come, sir!" said Mr. Flannery. "Are you a parrot?"

-

-The adroit thrust made no impression on John. His mind was too busy

-to recognize it for what it was--viz., about the cleverest repartee

-ever uttered by a non-commissioned officer of His Majesty's regular

-forces. A monstrous suspicion had smitten him, with the effect almost

-of a physical blow. Suspicion? It was more than a suspicion. If it was

-at Dolly Molloy's request that he was now locked up in this infernal

-room, then, bizarre as it might seem, Dolly Molloy must in some way be

-connected with the nefarious activities of the man Twist. The links

-that connected the two might be obscure, but as to the fact there could

-be no doubt whatever.

-

-"You mean ..." he gasped.

-

-"I mean your sister, sir, who brought you over here in her car."

-

-"What! That was my car."

-

-"No, no, sir, that won't do. I saw her myself driving off in it some

-hours ago. She waved her 'and to me," said Mr. Flannery, caressing his

-moustache and allowing a note of tender sentiment to creep into his

-voice. "Yes, sir! She turned and waved her 'and."

-

-John made no reply. He was beyond speech. Trifling though it might seem

-to an insurance company in comparison with the loss of Rudge Hall's

-more valuable treasures, the theft of the two-seater smote him a blow

-from which he could not hope to rally. He loved his Widgeon Seven. He

-had nursed it, tended it, oiled it, watered it, watched over it in

-sickness and in health as if it had been a baby sister. And now it had

-gone.

-

-"Look here!" he cried feverishly. "You must let me out of here. At

-once!"

-

-"No, sir. I promised your sister...."

-

-"She isn't my sister! I haven't got a sister! Good heavens, man, can't

-you understand...."

-

-"I understand very well, sir. Artfulness! I was prepared for it."

-Sergeant-Major Flannery paused for an instant. "The young lady," he

-said dreamily, "was afraid, too, that you might try to bribe me. She

-warned me most particular."

-

-John did not speak. His Widgeon Seven! Gone!

-

-"Bribe me!" repeated Sergeant-Major Flannery, his eyes widening. It was

-evident that the mere thought of such a thing sickened this good man.

-"She said you would try to bribe me to let you go."

-

-"Well, you can make your mind easy," said John between his teeth. "I

-haven't any money."

-

-There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Flannery said "Ho!" in a rather

-short manner. And silence fell again.

-

-It was broken by the Sergeant-Major, in a moralizing vein.

-

-"It's a wonder to me," he said, and there was peevishness in his

-voice, "that a young fellow with a lovely sister like what you've got

-can bring himself to lower himself to the beasts of the field, as

-the saying is. Drink in moderation is one thing. Mopping it up and

-becoming verlent and a nuisance to all is another. If you'd ever seen

-one of them lantern slides showing what alcohol does to the liver of

-the excessive drinker maybe you'd have pulled up sharp while there

-was time. And not," said the Sergeant-Major, still with that oddly

-querulous note in his voice, "have wasted all your money on what could

-only do you 'arm. If you 'adn't of give in so to your self-indulgence

-and what I may call besottedness, you would now 'ave your pocket full

-of money to spend how you fancied." He sighed. "Your cuppertea's got

-cold," he said moodily.

-

-"I don't want any tea."

-

-"Then I'll be leaving you," said Mr. Flannery. "If you require

-anything, press the bell. Nobody'll take any notice of it."

-

-He withdrew cautiously down the ladder, and, having paused at the

-bottom to shake his head reproachfully, disappeared from view.

-

-John did not miss him. His desire for company had passed. What

-he wanted now was to be alone and to think. Not that there was

-any likelihood of his thoughts being pleasant ones. The more he

-contemplated the iniquity of the Molloy family, the deeper did the iron

-enter into his soul. If ever he set eyes on Thomas G. Molloy again....

-

-He set eyes on him again, oddly enough, at this very moment. From where

-he stood, looking out through the bars of the window, there was visible

-to him a considerable section of the drive. And up the drive at this

-juncture, toiling painfully, came Mr. Molloy in person, seated on a

-bicycle.

-

-As John craned his neck and glared down with burning eyes, the rider

-dismounted, and the bicycle, which appeared to have been waiting for

-the chance, bit him neatly in the ankle with its left pedal. John was

-too far away to hear the faint cry of agony which escaped the suffering

-man, but he could see his face. It was a bright crimson face, powdered

-with dust, and its features were twisted in anguish.

-

-John went back to the jug and took another long drink. In the spectacle

-just presented to him he had found a faint, feeble glimmering of

-consolation.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER XII

-

-

-                                   I

-

-On leaving John, Sergeant-Major Flannery's first act was to go to

-what he was accustomed to call the orderly room and make his report.

-He reached it only a few minutes after its occupant's return to

-consciousness. Chimp Twist had opened his eyes and staggered to his

-feet at just about the moment when the Sergeant-Major was offering John

-the cup of tea.

-

-Mr. Twist's initial discovery, like John's, was that he had a headache.

-He then set himself to try to decide where he was. His mind clearing

-a little, he was enabled to gather that he was in England ... and,

-assembling the facts by degrees, in his study at Healthward Ho

-(formerly Graveney Court), Worcestershire. After that, everything came

-back to him, and he stood holding to the table with one hand and still

-grasping the lily with the other, and gave himself up to scorching

-reflections on the subject of the resourceful Mrs. Molloy.

-

-He was still busy with these when there was a forceful knock on the

-door and Sergeant-Major Flannery entered.

-

-Chimp's grip of the table tightened. He held himself together like one

-who sees a match set to a train of gunpowder and awaits the shattering

-explosion. His visitor's lips had begun to move, and Chimp could

-guess how that parade-ground voice was going to sound to a man with a

-headache like his.

-

-"H'rarp-h'm," began Mr. Flannery, clearing his throat, and Chimp with

-a sharp cry reeled to a chair and sank into it. The noise had hit him

-like a shell. He cowered where he sat, peering at the Sergeant-Major

-with haggard eyes.

-

-"Oo-er!" boomed Mr. Flannery, noting these symptoms. "You aren't

-looking up to the mark, Mr. Twist."

-

-Chimp dropped the lily, feeling the necessity of having both hands

-free. He found he experienced a little relief if he put the palms over

-his eyes and pressed hard.

-

-"I'll tell you what it is, sir," roared the sympathetic Sergeant-Major.

-"What's 'appened 'ere is that that nasty, feverish cold of yours

-has gone and struck inwards. It's left your 'ead and has penetrated

-internally to your vitals. If only you'd have took taraxacum and hops

-like I told you...."

-

-"Go away!" moaned Chimp, adding in a low voice what seemed to him a

-suitable destination.

-

-Mr. Flannery regarded him with mild reproach.

-

-"There's nothing gained, Mr. Twist, by telling me to get to 'ell out of

-here. I've merely come for the single and simple reason that I thought

-you would wish to know I've had a conversation with the verlent case

-upstairs, and the way it looks to me, sir, subject to your approval, is

-that it 'ud be best not to let him out from under lock and key for some

-time to come. True, 'e did not attempt anything in the nature of actual

-physical attack, being prevented no doubt by the fact that there was

-iron bars between him and me, but his manner throughout was peculiar,

-not to say odd, and I recommend that all communications be conducted

-till further notice through the window."

-

-"Do what you like," said Chimp faintly.

-

-"It isn't what I like, sir," bellowed Mr. Flannery virtuously. "It's

-what you like and instruct, me being in your employment and only 'ere

-to carry out your orders smartly as you give them. And there's one

-other matter, sir. As perhaps you are aware, the young lady went off in

-the little car ..."

-

-"Don't talk to me about the young lady."

-

-"I was only about to say, Mr. Twist, that you will doubtless be

-surprised to hear that for some reason or another, having started to

-go off in the little car, the young lady apparently decided on second

-thoughts to continue her journey by train. She left the little car at

-Lowick Station, with instructions that it be returned 'ere. I found

-that young Jakes, the station-master's son, outside with it a moment

-ago. Tooting the 'orn, he was, the young rascal, and saying he wanted

-half a crown. Using my own discretion, I gave him sixpence. You may

-reimburse me at your leisure and when convenient. Shall I take the

-little car and put it in the garridge, sir?"

-

-Chimp gave eager assent to this proposition, as he would have done

-to any proposition which appeared to carry with it the prospect of

-removing this man from his presence.

-

-"It's funny, the young lady leaving the little car at the station,

-sir," mused Mr. Flannery in a voice that shook the chandelier. "I

-suppose she happened to reach there at a moment when a train was

-signalled and decided that she preferred not to overtax her limited

-strength by driving to London. I fancy she must have had London as her

-objective."

-

-Chimp fancied so, too. A picture rose before his eyes of Dolly and

-Soapy revelling together in the metropolis, with the loot of Rudge Hall

-bestowed in some safe place where he would never, never be able to get

-at it. The picture was so vivid that he uttered a groan.

-

-"Where does it catch you, sir?" asked Mr. Flannery solicitously.

-

-"Eh?"

-

-"The pain, sir. The agony. You appear to be suffering. If you take

-my advice, you'll get off to bed and put an 'ot-water bottle on your

-stummick. Lay it right across the abdomen, sir. It may dror the poison

-out. I had an old aunt...."

-

-"I don't want to hear about your aunt."

-

-"Very good, sir. Just as you wish."

-

-"Tell me about her some other time."

-

-"Any time that suits you, sir," said Mr. Flannery agreeably. "Well,

-I'll be off and putting the little car in the garridge."

-

-He left the room, and Chimp, withdrawing his hands from his eyes,

-gave himself up to racking thought. A man recovering from knock-out

-drops must necessarily see things in a jaundiced light, but it is

-scarcely probable that, even had he been in robust health, Mr. Twist's

-meditations would have been much pleasanter. Condensed, they resolved

-themselves, like John's, into a passionate wish that he could meet

-Soapy Molloy again, if only for a moment.

-

-And he had hardly decided that such a meeting was the only thing which

-life now had to offer, when the door opened again and the maid appeared.

-

-"Mr. Molloy to see you, sir."

-

-Chimp started from his chair.

-

-"Show him in," he said in a tense, husky voice.

-

-There was a shuffling noise without, and Soapy appeared in the doorway.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-The progress of Mr. Molloy across the threshold of Chimp Twist's study

-bore a striking resemblance to that of some spent runner breasting

-the tape at the conclusion of a more than usually gruelling Marathon

-race. His hair was disordered, his face streaked with dust and heat,

-and his legs acted so independently of his body that they gave him an

-odd appearance of moving in several directions at once. An unbiassed

-observer, seeing him, could not but have felt a pang of pity for this

-wreck of what had once, apparently, been a fine, upstanding man.

-

-Chimp was not an unbiassed observer. He did not pity his old business

-partner. Judging from a first glance, Soapy Molloy seemed to him to

-have been caught in some sort of machinery, and subsequently run over

-by several motor lorries, and Chimp was glad of it. He would have liked

-to seek out the man in charge of that machinery and the drivers of

-those lorries, and reward them handsomely.

-

-"So here you are!" he said.

-

-Mr. Molloy, navigating cautiously, backed and filled in the direction

-of the armchair. Reaching it after considerable difficulty, he

-gripped its sides and lowered himself with infinite weariness. A sharp

-exclamation escaped him as he touched the cushions. Then, sinking back,

-he closed his eyes and immediately went to sleep.

-

-Chimp gazed down at him, seething with resentment that made his head

-ache worse than ever. That Soapy should have had the cold, callous

-crust to come to Healthward Ho at all after what had happened was

-sufficiently infuriating. That, having come, he should proceed without

-a word of explanation or apology to treat the study as a bedroom was

-more than Chimp could endure. Stooping down, he gripped his old friend

-by his luxuriant hair and waggled his head smartly from side to side

-several times. The treatment proved effective. Soapy sat up.

-

-"Eh?" he said, blinking.

-

-"What do you mean, eh?"

-

-"Which...? Why...? Where am I?"

-

-"I'll tell you where you are."

-

-"Oh!" said Mr. Molloy, intelligence returning.

-

-He sank back among the cushions again. Now that the first agony of

-contact was over he was finding their softness delightful. In the

-matter of seats, a man who has ridden twenty miles on an elderly

-push-bicycle becomes an exacting critic.

-

-"Gee! I feel bad!" he murmured.

-

-It was a natural remark, perhaps, for a man in his condition to make,

-but it had the effect of adding several degrees Fahrenheit to his

-companion's already impressive warmth. For some moments Chimp Twist,

-wrestling with his emotion, could find no form of self-expression

-beyond a curious spluttering noise.

-

-"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, "I feel bad. All the way over here on

-a bicycle, Chimpie, that's where I've been. It's in the calf of the leg

-that it gets me principally. There and around the instep. And I wish I

-had a dollar for every bruise those darned pedals have made on me."

-

-"And what about me?" demanded Chimp, at last ceasing to splutter.

-

-"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, wistfully, "I certainly wish someone would

-come along and offer me even as much as fifty cents for every bruise

-I've gotten from the ankles upwards. They've come out on me like a rash

-or something."

-

-"If you had my headache...."

-

-"Yes, I've a headache, too," said Mr. Molloy. "It was the hot sun

-beating down on my neck that did it. There were times when I thought

-really I'd have to pass the thing up. Say, if you knew what I feel

-like...."

-

-"And how about what I feel like?" shrilled Mr. Twist, quivering with

-self-pity. "A nice thing that was that wife of yours did to me! A fine

-trick to play on a business partner! Slipping stuff into my highball

-that laid me out cold. Is that any way to behave? Is that a system?"

-

-Mr. Molloy considered the point.

-

-"The madam is a mite impulsive," he admitted.

-

-"And leaving me laying there and putting a lily in my hand!"

-

-"That was her playfulness," explained Mr. Molloy. "Girls will have

-their bit of fun."

-

-"Fun! Say...."

-

-Mr. Molloy felt that it was time to point the moral.

-

-"It was your fault, Chimpie. You brought it on yourself by acting

-greedy and trying to get the earth. If you hadn't stood us up for that

-sixty-five--thirty-five of yours, all this would never have happened.

-Naturally no high-spirited girl like the madam wasn't going to stand

-for nothing like that. But listen while I tell you what I've come

-about. If you're willing to can all that stuff and have a fresh deal

-and a square one this time--one-third to me, one-third to you, and

-one-third to the madam--I'll put you hep to something that'll make you

-feel good. Yes, sir, you'll go singing about the house."

-

-"The only thing you could tell me that would make me feel good,"

-replied Chimp, churlishly, "would be that you'd tumbled off of that

-bicycle of yours and broken your damned neck."

-

-Mr. Molloy was pained.

-

-"Is that nice, Chimpie?"

-

-Mr. Twist wished to know if, in the circumstances and after what had

-occurred, Mr. Molloy expected him to kiss him. Mr. Molloy said No, but

-where was the sense of harsh words? Where did harsh words get anybody?

-When had harsh words ever paid any dividend?

-

-"If you had a headache like mine, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy,

-reproachfully, "you'd know how it felt to sit and listen to an old

-friend giving you the razz."

-

-Chimp was obliged to struggle for a while with a sudden return of his

-spluttering.

-

-"A headache like yours? Where do you get that stuff? My headache's a

-darned sight worse than your headache."

-

-"It couldn't be, Chimpie."

-

-"If you want to know what a headache really is, you take some of those

-kayo drops you're so fond of."

-

-"Well, putting that on one side," said Mr. Molloy, wisely forbearing to

-argue, "let me tell you what I've come here about. Chimpie, that guy

-Carmody has double-crossed us. He was on to us from the start."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Yes, sir. I had it from his own lips in person. And do you know what

-he done? He took that stuff out of the closet and sent his chauffeur

-over to Worcester to put it in the Left Luggage place at the depôt

-there."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Yes, sir."

-

-"Gee!" said Mr. Twist, impressed. "That was smooth. Then you haven't

-got it, do you mean?"

-

-"No. I haven't got it."

-

-Mr. Twist had never expected to feel anything in the nature of elation

-that day or for many days to come, but at these words something like

-ecstasy came upon him. He uttered a delighted laugh, which, owing to

-sudden agony in the head, changed to a muffled howl.

-

-"So, after all your smartness," he said, removing his hands from his

-temples as the spasm passed, "you're no better off than what I am?"

-

-"We're both sitting pretty, Chimpie, if we get together and act quick."

-

-"How's that? Act how?"

-

-"I'll tell you. This chauffeur guy left the stuff and brought home the

-ticket...."

-

-"... and gave it to old man Carmody, I suppose? Well, where does that

-get us?"

-

-"No, sir! He didn't give it to old man Carmody. He gave it to that

-young Carroll fellow!" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-The significance of the information was not lost upon Chimp. He stared

-at Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Carroll?" he said. "You mean the bird upstairs?"

-

-"Is he upstairs?"

-

-"Sure he's upstairs. Locked in a room with bars on the window. You're

-certain he has the ticket?"

-

-"I know he has. So all we've got to do now is get it off him."

-

-"That's all?"

-

-"That's all."

-

-"And how," inquired Chimp, "do you propose to do it?"

-

-Mr. Molloy made no immediate reply. The question was one which, in the

-intervals of dodging the pedals of his bicycle, he had been asking

-himself ever since he had left Rudge Hall. He had hoped that in the

-enthusiasm of the moment some spontaneous solution would leap from his

-old friend's lips, but it was plain that this was not to be.

-

-"I thought maybe you would think of a way, Chimpie," he was compelled

-to confess.

-

-"Oh? Me, eh?"

-

-"You're smart," said Mr. Molloy, deferentially. "You've got a head.

-Whatever anyone's said about you, no one's ever denied that. You'll

-think of a way."

-

-"I will, will I? And while I'm doing it, you'll just sit back, I

-suppose, and have a nice rest? And all you're suggesting that I'm to

-get out of it...."

-

-"Now, Chimpie!" quavered Mr. Molloy. He had feared this development.

-

-"... is a measly one-third. Say, let me tell you...."

-

-"Now, Chimpie," urged Mr. Molloy, with unshed tears in his voice,

-"let's not start all that over again. We settled the terms. Gentlemen's

-agreement. It's all fixed."

-

-"Is it? Come down out of the clouds, you're scaring the birds. What I

-want now, if I'm going to do all the work and help you out of a tough

-spot, is seventy-thirty."

-

-"Seventy-thirty!' echoed Mr. Molloy, appalled.

-

-"And if you don't like it let's hear you suggest a way of getting that

-ticket off of that guy upstairs. Maybe you'd like to go up and have

-a talk with him? If he's feeling anything like the way I felt when I

-came to after those kayo drops of yours, he'll be glad to see you. What

-does it matter to you if he pulls your head off and drops it out of the

-window? You can only live once, so what the hell!"

-

-Mr. Molloy gazed dismally before him. Never a very inventive man,

-his bicycle ride had left him even less capable of inspiration than

-usual. He had to admit himself totally lacking in anything resembling

-a constructive plan of campaign. He yearned for his dear wife's gentle

-presence. Dolly was the bright one of the family. In a crisis like this

-she would have been full of ideas, each one a crackerjack.

-

-"We can't keep him locked up in that room for ever," he said unhappily.

-

-"We don't have to--not if you agree to my seventy-thirty."

-

-"Have you thought of a way, then?"

-

-"Sure I've thought of a way."

-

-Mr. Molloy's depression became more marked than ever. He knew what this

-meant. The moment he gave up the riddle that miserable little Chimp

-would come out with some scheme which had been staring him in the face

-all along, if only he had had the intelligence to see it.

-

-"Well?" said Chimp. "Think quick. And remember, thirty's better than

-nothing. And don't say, when I've told you, that it's just the idea

-you've had yourself from the start."

-

-Mr. Molloy urged his weary brain to one last spurt of activity, but

-without result. He was a specialist. He could sell shares in phantom

-oil wells better than anybody on either side of the Atlantic, but there

-he stopped. Outside his specialty he was almost a total loss.

-

-"All right, Chimpie," he sighed, facing the inevitable.

-

-"Seventy-thirty?"

-

-"Seventy-thirty. Though how I'm to break it to the madam, I don't know.

-She won't like it, Chimpie. It'll be a nasty blow for the madam."

-

-"I hope it chokes her," said Chimp, unchivalrously. "Her and her

-lilies! Well, then. Here's what we do. When Flannery takes the guy his

-coffee and eggs to-morrow, there'll be something in the pot besides

-coffee. There'll be some of those kayo drops of yours. And then all we

-have to do is just simply walk upstairs and dig the ticket out of his

-clothes and there we are."

-

-Mr. Molloy uttered an agonized cry. His presentiment had been correct.

-

-"I'd have thought of that myself ..." he wailed.

-

-"Sure you would," replied Chimp, comfortably, "if you'd of had

-something that wasn't a hubbard squash or something where your head

-ought to be. Those just-as-good imitation heads never pay in the long

-run. What you ought to do is sell yours for what it'll fetch and get a

-new one. And next time," said Chimp, "make it a prettier one."

-

-

-

-

-                             CHAPTER XIII

-

-

-                                   I

-

-The dawn of what promised to be an eventful day broke grayly over

-Healthward Ho. By seven o'clock, however, the sun had forced its way

-through the mists and at eight precisely one of its rays, stealing

-in at an upper window, fell upon Sergeant-Major Flannery, lovely in

-sleep. He grunted, opened his eyes, and, realizing that another morning

-had arrived with all its manifold tasks and responsibilities, heaved

-himself out of bed and after a few soldierly setting-up exercises began

-his simple toilet. This completed, he made his way to the kitchen,

-where a fragrant smell of bacon and coffee announced that breakfast

-awaited him.

-

-His companions in the feast, Rosa, the maid, and Mrs. Evans, the cook,

-greeted him with the respectful warmth due to a man of his position

-and gifts. However unpopular Mr. Flannery might be with the resident

-patients of Healthward Ho--and Admiral Sir James Rigby-Rudd, for one,

-had on several occasions expressed a wistful desire to skin him--he

-was always sure of a hearty welcome below stairs. Rosa worshipped his

-moustache, and Mrs. Evans found his conversation entertaining.

-

-To-day, however, though the moustache was present in all its pristine

-glory, the conversation was lacking. Usually it was his custom,

-before so much as spearing an egg, to set things going brightly with

-some entertaining remark on the state of the weather or possibly the

-absorbing description of a dream which he had had in the night, but

-this morning he sat silent--or as nearly silent as he could ever be

-when eating.

-

-"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Flannery," said Mrs. Evans, piqued. The

-Sergeant-Major started. It came to him that he had been remiss.

-

-"I was thinking, ma'am," he said, poising a forkful of bacon, "of what

-I may call the sadness of life."

-

-"Life is sad," agreed Mrs. Evans.

-

-"Ah!" said Rosa, the maid, who, being a mere slip of a girl and only

-permitted to join in these symposia as a favour, should not have spoken

-at all.

-

-"That verlent case upstairs," proceeded Mr. Flannery, swallowing the

-bacon and forking up another load. "Now, there's something that makes

-your heart bleed, if I may use the expression at the breakfast table.

-That young fellow, no doubt, started out in life with everything

-pointing to a happy and prosperous career.

-

-"Good home, good education, everything. And just because he's allowed

-himself to fall into bad 'abits, there he is under lock and key, so to

-speak."

-

-"Can he get out?" asked Rosa. It was a subject which she and the cook

-discussed in alarmed whispers far into the night.

-

-Mr. Flannery raised his eyebrows.

-

-"No, he cannot get out. And, if he did, you wouldn't have nothing to

-fear, not with me around."

-

-"I'm sure it's a comfort feeling that you are around, Mr. Flannery,"

-said Mrs. Evans.

-

-"Almost the very words the young fellow's sister said to me when she

-left him here," rumbled Mr. Flannery complacently. "She said to me,

-'Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'it's such a relief to feel that there's

-someone like you 'ere, Sergeant-Major,' she said. 'I'm sure you're

-wonderful in any kind of an emergency, Sergeant-Major,' she said." He

-sighed. "It's thinking of 'er that brings home the sadness of it all to

-a man, if you understand me. What I mean, here's that beautiful young

-creature racked with anxiety, as the saying is, on account of this

-worthless brother of hers...."

-

-"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa.

-

-An awful silence followed these words, the sort of silence that would

-fall upon a housekeeper's room if, supposing such a thing possible,

-some young under-footman were to contradict the butler. Sergeant-Major

-Flannery's eyes bulged, and he drank coffee in a marked manner.

-

-"Don't you talk nonsense, my girl," he said shortly.

-

-"A girl can speak, can't she? A girl can make a remark, can't she?"

-

-"Certainly she can speak," replied Mr. Flannery. "Undoubtedly she can

-make a remark. But," he added with quiet severity, "let it be sense.

-That young lady was the most beautiful young lady I've ever seen. She

-had eyes"--he paused for a telling simile--"eyes," he resumed devoutly,

-"like twin stars." He turned to Mrs. Evans, "When you've got that

-case's breakfast ready, ma'am, perhaps you would instruct someone to

-bring it out to me in the garden and I'll take it up to him. I shall be

-smoking my pipe in the shrubbery."

-

-"You're not going already, Mr. Flannery?"

-

-"Yes, ma'am."

-

-"But you haven't finished your breakfast."

-

-"I have quite finished my breakfast, ma'am," said Sergeant-Major

-Flannery. "I would not wish to eat any more."

-

-He withdrew. To the pleading in the eyes of Rosa he pointedly paid

-no attention. He was not aware of the destructive effect which the

-moustache nestling between his thumb and forefinger had wrought on the

-girl's heart, but he considered rightly that if you didn't keep women

-in their place occasionally, where were you? Rosa was a nice little

-thing, but nice little things must not be allowed to speak lightly of

-goddesses.

-

-In the kitchen which he had left conversation had now resolved itself

-into a monologue by Mrs. Evans, on the Modern Girl. It need not be

-reported in detail, for Mrs. Evans on the Modern Girl was very like all

-the other members of the older generation who from time to time have

-given their views on the subject in the pulpit and the press. Briefly,

-Mrs. Evans did not know what girls were coming to nowadays. They spoke

-irreverently in the presence of their elders. They lacked respect. They

-thrust themselves forward. They annoyed good men to the extent of only

-half finishing their breakfasts. What Mrs. Evans's mother would have

-said if Mrs. Evans in her girlhood had behaved as Rosa had just behaved

-was a problem which Mrs. Evans frankly admitted herself unable to solve.

-

-And at the end of it all the only remark which Rosa vouchsafed was a

-repetition of the one which had caused Sergeant-Major Flannery to leave

-the table short one egg and a slice of bacon of his normal allowance.

-

-"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa, tossing a bobbed

-auburn head.

-

-Whether this deplorable attitude would have reduced Mrs. Evans to

-a despairing silence or caused her to repeat her observations with

-renewed energy will never be known, for at this moment one of the bells

-above the dresser jangled noisily.

-

-"That's Him," said Mrs. Evans. "Go and see what He wants." She usually

-referred to the proprietor of Healthward Ho by means of a pronoun with

-a capital letter, disapproving, though she recognized its aptness, of

-her assistant's preference for the soubriquet of Old Monkey Brand. "If

-it's His breakfast, tell Him it'll be ready in a minute."

-

-Rosa departed.

-

-"It's not His breakfast," she announced, returning. "It's the Case

-Upstairs's breakfast. Old Monkey Brand wants to have a look at it

-before it's took him."

-

-"Don't call Him Old Monkey Brand."

-

-"Well, it's what he looks like, isn't it?"

-

-"Never mind," replied Mrs. Evans, and resumed her speculations as to

-what her mother would have said.

-

-"He's to have some bacon and eggs and toast and a potter coffee," said

-Rosa, showing rather a lack of interest in Mrs. Evans's mother. "And

-old Lord Twist wants to have a look at it before it's took him. It all

-depends what you call beautiful," said Rosa. "If you're going to call

-anyone beautiful that's got touched-up hair and eyes like one of those

-vamps in the pictures, well, all I can say is..."

-

-"That's enough," said Mrs. Evans.

-

-Silence reigned in the kitchen, broken only by the sizzling of bacon

-and the sniffs of a modern girl who did not see eye to eye with her

-elders on the subject of feminine beauty.

-

-"Here you are," said Mrs. Evans at length. "Get me one of them trays

-and the pepper and salt and mustard and be careful you don't drop it."

-

-"Drop it? Why should I drop it?"

-

-"Well, don't."

-

-"There was a woman in _Hearts and Satins_ that had eyes just like

-hers," said Rosa, balancing the tray and speaking with the cold scorn

-which good women feel for their erring sisters. "And what she didn't

-do! Apart from stealing all them important papers relating to the

-invention...."

-

-"You're spilling that coffee."

-

-"No, I'm not."

-

-"Well, don't," said Mrs. Evans.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Out in the garden, hidden from the gaze of any who might espy him and

-set him to work, Sergeant-Major Flannery lolled in the shrubbery,

-savouring that best smoke of the day, the after-breakfast pipe. He was

-still ruffled, for Dolly had made a deep impression on him and any

-statement to the effect that she was not a thing of loveliness ranked

-to his thinking under the head of blasphemy.

-

-Of course, he mused, there was this to be said for the girl Rosa,

-this rather important point to be put forward in extenuation of her

-loose speech--she worshipped the ground he walked on and had obviously

-spoken as she did under the sudden smart of an uncontrollable

-jealousy. Contemplated in this light her remarks became almost

-excusable, and, growing benevolent under the influence of tobacco, Mr.

-Flannery began to feel his resentment changing gradually into something

-approaching tenderness.

-

-Rosa, when you came to look at it squarely, was, he reflected, rather

-to be pitied than censured. Young girls, of course, needed suppressing

-at times, and had to be ticked off for their own good when they got

-above themselves, but there was no doubt that the situation must have

-been trying to one in her frame of mind. To hear the man she worshipped

-speaking with unrestrained praise of the looks of another of her sex

-was enough to upset any girl. Properly looked at, in short, Rosa's

-outburst had been a compliment, and Sergeant-Major Flannery, now

-definitely mollified, decided to forgive her.

-

-At this moment he heard footsteps on the gravel path that skirted the

-shrubbery, and became alert and vigilant. He was not supposed to smoke

-in the grounds at Healthward Ho because of the maddening effect the

-spectacle could not fail to have upon the patients if they saw him. He

-knocked out his pipe and peered cautiously through the branches. Then

-he perceived that he need have had no alarm. It was only Rosa. She

-was standing with her back to him holding a laden tray. He remembered

-now that he had left instructions that the Case's breakfast should be

-brought out to him, preliminary to being carried up the ladder.

-

-"Mr. Flanner-ee!" called Rosa, and scanned the horizon.

-

-It was not often that Sergeant-Major Flannery permitted himself any

-action that might be called arch or roguish, but his meditations in the

-shrubbery, added to the mellowing influence of tobacco, had left him in

-an unusually light-hearted mood. The sun was shining, the little birds

-were singing, and Mr. Flannery felt young and gay. Putting his pipe in

-his pocket, accordingly, he crept through the shrubbery until he was

-immediately behind the girl and then in a tender whisper uttered the

-single word:

-

-"Boo!"

-

-All great men have their limitations. We recognize the inevitability of

-this and do not hold it against them. One states, therefore, not in any

-spirit of reproach but simply as a fact of historical interest, that

-tender whispering was one of the things that Sergeant-Major Flannery

-did not do well. Between intention and performance there was, when Mr.

-Flannery set out to whisper tenderly, a great gulf fixed. The actual

-sound he now uttered was not unlike that which might proceed from the

-fog horn of an Atlantic liner or a toastmaster having a fit in a

-boiler shop, and, bursting forth as it did within a few inches of her

-ear without any warning whatsoever, it had on Rosa an effect identical

-with that produced on Colonel Wyvern at an earlier point in this

-chronicle by John Carroll's sudden bellow outside the shop of Chas.

-Bywater, Chemist. From trivial causes great events may spring. Rosa

-sprang about three feet. A sharp squeal escaped her and she dropped the

-tray. After which, she stood with a hand on her heart, panting.

-

-Sergeant-Major Flannery recognized at once that he had done the wrong

-thing. His generous spirit had led him astray. If he had wished to

-inform Rosa that all was forgotten and forgiven he should have stepped

-out of the shrubbery and said so in a few simple words, face to face.

-By acting, as it were, obliquely and allowing himself to be for the

-moment a disembodied voice, he had made a mess of things. Among the

-things he had made a mess of were a pot of coffee, a pitcher of milk,

-a bowl of sugar, a dish of butter, vessels containing salt, mustard,

-and pepper, a rack of toast, and a plateful of eggs and bacon. All

-these objects now littered the turf before him; and, emerging from the

-shrubbery, he surveyed them ruefully.

-

-"Oo-er!" he said.

-

-Oddly enough, relief rather than annoyance seemed to be the emotion

-dominating his companion. If ever there was an occasion when a girl

-might excusably have said some of the things girls are so good at

-saying nowadays, this was surely it. But Rosa merely panted at the

-Sergeant-Major thankfully.

-

-"I thought you was the Case Upstairs!" she gasped. "When I heard that

-ghastly sound right in my ear I thought it was him got out."

-

-"You're all right, my girl," said Mr. Flannery. "I'm 'ere."

-

-"Oh, Mr. Flannery!"

-

-"There, there!" said the Sergeant-Major.

-

-In spite of the feeling that he was behaving a little prematurely, he

-slipped a massive arm around the girl's waist. He also kissed her. He

-had not intended to commit himself quite so definitely as this, but it

-seemed now the only thing to do.

-

-Rosa became calmer.

-

-"I dropped the tray," she said.

-

-"Yes," said Mr. Flannery, who was quick at noticing things.

-

-"I'd better go and tell him."

-

-"Tell Mr. Twist?"

-

-"Well, I'd better, hadn't I?"

-

-Mr. Flannery demurred. To tell Mr. Twist involved explanations, and

-explanations, if they were to be convincing, must necessarily reveal

-him, Mr. Flannery, in a light none too dignified. It might be that,

-having learned the facts, Mr. Twist would decide to dispense with

-the services of an assistant who, even from the best motives, hid in

-shrubberies and said "Boo!" to maidservants.

-

-"You listen to me, my girl," he advised. "Mr. Twist is a busy gentleman

-that has many responsibilities and much to occupy him. He don't want

-to be bothered with no stories of dropped trays. All you just do is

-run back to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Evans to cook the Case some more

-breakfast. The coffee pot's broke, but the cup ain't broke and the

-plate ain't broke and the mustardan-pepperan-salt thing ain't broke.

-I'll pick 'em up and you take 'em back on the tray and don't say

-nothing to nobody. While you're gone I'll be burying what's left of

-them eggs."

-

-"But Mr. Twist put something special in the coffee."

-

-"Eh? How do you mean?"

-

-"When I took him in the tray just now, he said, 'Is that the Case

-Upstairs' breakfast?' and I said Yes, it was, and Old Monkey Brand put

-something that looked like a aspirin tablet or something in the coffee

-pot. I thought it might be some medicine he had to have to make him

-quiet and keep him from breaking out and murdering all of us."

-

-Mr. Flannery smiled indulgently.

-

-"That Case Upstairs don't need nothing of that sort, not when I'm

-around," he said. "Doctor Twist's like all these civilians. He gets

-unduly nervous. He don't understand that there's no need or necessity

-or occasion whatsoever for these what I may call sedatives when I'm on

-the premises to lend a 'and in case of any verlence. Besides, it don't

-do anybody no good always to be taking these drugs and what not. The

-Case 'ad 'is sleeping draught yesterday, and you never know it might

-not undermine his 'ealth to go taking another this morning. So if Mr.

-Twist asks you has the Case had his coffee, you just say 'Yes, sir,' in

-a smart and respectful manner, and I'll do the same. And then nobody

-needn't be any the wiser."

-

-Mr. Flannery's opportunity of doing the same occurred not more than

-a quarter of an hour later. Returning from the task of climbing the

-ladder and handing in the revised breakfast at John's window, he

-encountered his employer in the hall.

-

-"Oh, Flannery," said Mr. Twist.

-

-"Sir?"

-

-"The--er--the violent case. Has he had breakfast?"

-

-"He was eatin' it quite 'earty when I left him not five minutes ago,

-sir."

-

-Chimp paused.

-

-"Did he drink his coffee?" he asked carelessly.

-

-"Yes, sir," replied Sergeant-Major Flannery in a smart and respectful

-manner.

-

-"Oh! I see. Thank you."

-

-"Thank _you_, sir," said Sergeant-Major Flannery.

-

-

-                                  III

-

-In describing John as eating his breakfast quite 'earty, Sergeant-Major

-Flannery, though not as a rule an artist in words, had for once

-undoubtedly achieved the _mot juste_. Hearty was the exact adjective to

-describe that ill-used young man's methods of approach to the eggs and

-bacon and coffee which his gaoler had handed in between the bars of the

-window. Neither his now rooted dislike of Mr. Flannery nor any sense of

-the indignity of accepting food like some rare specimen in a zoo could

-compete in John with an appetite which had been growing silently within

-him through the night watches. His headache had gone, leaving in its

-place a hunger which wolves might have envied. Placing himself outside

-an egg almost before the Sergeant-Major had time to say "Oo-er!" he

-finished the other egg, the bacon, the toast, the butter, the milk, and

-the coffee, and, having lifted the plate to see if any crumbs had got

-concealed beneath it and finding none, was compelled reluctantly to

-regard the meal as concluded.

-

-He now felt considerably better. Food and drink had stayed in him that

-animal ravenousness which makes food and drink the only possible object

-of a man's thoughts; and he was able to turn his mind to other matters.

-Having found and swallowed a lump of sugar which had got itself

-overlooked under a fold of the napkin, he returned to the bed and

-lay down. A man who wishes to think can generally do so better in a

-horizontal position. So John lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling,

-pondering.

-

-He certainly had sufficient material for thought to keep him occupied

-almost indefinitely. The more he meditated upon his present situation

-the less was he able to understand it. That the villain Twist, wishing

-to get away with the spoils of Rudge Hall, should have imprisoned

-him in this room in order to gain time for flight would have been

-intelligible. John would never have been able to bring himself to

-approve of such an action, but he had to admit its merits as a piece of

-strategy.

-

-But Twist had not flown. According to Sergeant-Major Flannery, he was

-still on the premises, and so, apparently, was his accomplice, the

-black-hearted Molloy. But why? What did they think they were doing? How

-long did they suppose they would be able to keep a respectable citizen

-cooped up like this, even though his only medium of communication with

-the outer world were a more than usually fat-headed sergeant-major? The

-thing baffled John completely.

-

-He next turned his mind to thoughts of Pat, and experienced a feverish

-concern. Here was something to get worried about. What, he asked

-himself, must Pat be thinking? He had promised to call for her in the

-Widgeon Seven at one o'clock yesterday. She would assume that he had

-forgotten. She would suppose....

-

-He would have gone on torturing himself with these reflections for

-a considerable time, but at this moment he suddenly heard a sharp,

-clicking sound. It resembled the noise a key makes when turning in

-a lock, and was probably the only sound on earth which at that

-particular point in his meditations would have had the power to arrest

-his attention.

-

-He lifted his head and looked around. Yes, the door was opening. And it

-was opening, what was more, in just the nasty, slow, furtive, sneaking

-way in which a door would open if somebody like the leper Twist had

-got hold of the handle.

-

-In this matter of the hell-hound Twist's mental processes John was

-now thoroughly fogged. The man appeared to be something very closely

-resembling an imbecile. When flight was the one thing that could do

-him a bit of good, he did not fly, and now, having with drugs and

-imprisonment and the small talk of sergeant-majors reduced a muscular

-young man to a condition of homicidal enthusiasm, he was apparently

-paying that young man a social call.

-

-However, the mental condition of this monkey-faced, waxed-moustached

-bounder and criminal was beside the point. What was important was to

-turn his weak-mindedness to profit. The moment was obviously one for

-cunning and craftiness, and John accordingly dropped his head on the

-pillow, cunningly closed his eyes, and craftily began to breathe like

-one deep in sleep.

-

-The ruse proved effective. After a moment of complete silence, a board

-creaked. Then another board creaked. And then he heard the door close

-gently. Finally, from the neighbourhood of the door, there came to him

-a sound of whispering. And across the years there floated into John's

-mind a dim memory. This whispering ... it reminded him of something.

-

-Then he got it. Ages ago ... when he was a child ... Christmas

-Eve ... His father and mother lurking in the doorway to make sure that

-he was asleep before creeping to the bed and putting the presents in

-his stocking.

-

-The recollection encouraged John. There is nothing like having done a

-thing before and knowing the technique. He never had been asleep on

-those bygone Christmas Eves, but the gift-bearers had never suspected

-it, and he resolved that, if any of the old skill and artistry still

-lingered with him, the Messrs. Twist and Molloy should not suspect it

-now. He deepened the note of his breathing, introducing into it a motif

-almost asthmatic.

-

-"It's all right," said the voice of Mr. Twist.

-

-"Okay?" said the voice of Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Okay," said the voice of Mr. Twist.

-

-Whereupon, walking confidently and without any further effort at

-stealth, the two approached the bed.

-

-"I guess he drank the whole potful," said Mr. Twist.

-

-Once more John found himself puzzling over the way this man's mind

-worked. By pot he presumably meant the coffee pot standing on the tray

-and why the contents of this should appear to him in the light of a

-soporific was more than John could understand.

-

-"Say, listen," said Mr. Twist. "You go and hang around outside the

-door, Soapy."

-

-"Why?" inquired Mr. Molloy, and it seemed to John that he spoke coldly.

-

-"So's to see nobody comes along, of course."

-

-"Yeah?" said Mr. Molloy, and his voice was now unmistakably dry. "And

-you'll come out in a minute and tell me you're all broke up about it

-but he hadn't got the ticket on him after all."

-

-"You don't think...?"

-

-"Yes, I do think."

-

-"If you can't trust me that far...."

-

-"Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, "I wouldn't trust you as far as a snail

-could make in three jumps. I wouldn't believe you not even if I knew

-you were speaking the truth."

-

-"Oh, well if that's how you feel..." said Mr. Twist, injured. Mr.

-Molloy, still speaking in that unfriendly voice, replied that that was

-precisely how he did feel. And there was silence for a space.

-

-"Oh, very well," said Mr. Twist at length.

-

-John's perplexity increased. He could make nothing of that "ticket."

-The only ticket he had in his possession was the one Bolt, the

-chauffeur, had given him to give to his uncle for some bag or other

-which he had left in the cloak room at Shrub Hill Station. Why should

-these men...!

-

-He became aware of fingers groping toward the inner pocket of his coat.

-And as they touched him he decided that the moment had come to act.

-Bracing the muscles of his back he sprang from the bed, and with an

-acrobatic leap hurled himself toward the door and stood leaning against

-it.

-

-

-                                  IV

-

-In the pause which followed this brisk move it soon became evident to

-John, rubbing his shoulders against the oak panels and glowering upon

-the two treasure seekers, that if the scene was to be brightened by

-anything in the nature of a dialogue the ball of conversation would

-have to be set rolling by himself. Not for some little time, it was

-clear, would his companions be in a condition for speech. Chimp Twist

-was looking like a monkey that has bitten into a bad nut, and Soapy

-Molloy, like an American Senator who has received an anonymous telegram

-saying "All is discovered. Fly at once." This sudden activity on the

-part of one whom they had regarded as under the influence of some of

-the best knock-out drops that ever came out of Chicago had had upon

-them an effect similar to that which would be experienced by a group of

-surgeons in an operating theatre if the gentleman on the slab were to

-rise abruptly and begin to dance the Charleston.

-

-So it was John who was the first to speak.

-

-"Now, then!" said John. "How about it?"

-

-The question was a purely rhetorical one, and received no reply. Mr.

-Molloy uttered an odd, strangled sound like a far-away cat with a

-fishbone in its throat, and Chimp's waxed moustache seemed to droop

-at the ends. It occurred to both of them that they had never realized

-before what a remarkably muscular, well-developed young man John was.

-It was also borne in upon them that there are exceptions to the rule

-which states that big men are always good-humoured. John, they could

-not help noticing, looked like a murderer who had been doing physical

-jerks for years.

-

-"I've a good mind to break both your necks," said John.

-

-At these unpleasant words, Mr. Molloy came to life sufficiently to be

-able to draw back a step, thus leaving his partner nearer than himself

-to the danger zone. It was a move strictly in accordance with business

-ethics. For if, Mr. Molloy was arguing, Chimp claimed seventy per cent.

-of the profits of their little venture, it was only fair that he should

-assume an equivalent proportion of its liabilities. At the moment, the

-thing looked like turning out all liabilities, and these Mr. Molloy was

-only too glad to split on a seventy-thirty basis. So he moved behind

-Chimp, and round the bulwark of his body, which he could have wished

-had been more substantial, peered anxiously at John.

-

-John, having sketched out his ideal policy, was now forced to descend

-to the practical. Agreeable as it would have been to take these two men

-and bump their heads together, he realized that such a course would be

-a deviation from the main issue. The important thing was to ascertain

-what they had done with the loot, and to this inquiry he now directed

-his remarks.

-

-"Where's that stuff?" he asked.

-

-"Stuff?" said Chimp.

-

-"You know what I mean. Those things you stole from the Hall."

-

-Chimp, who had just discovered that he was standing between Mr. Molloy

-and John, swiftly skipped back a pace. This caused Mr. Molloy to skip

-back, too. John regarded this liveliness with a smouldering disfavour.

-

-"Stand still!" he said.

-

-Chimp stood still. Mr. Molloy, who had succeeded in getting behind him

-again, stood stiller.

-

-"Well?" said John. "Where are the things?"

-

-Even after the most complete rout on a stricken battle field a beaten

-general probably hesitates for an instant before surrendering his

-sword. And so now, obvious though it was that there was no other course

-before them but confession, Chimp and Soapy remained silent for a

-space. Then Chimp, who was the first to catch John's eye, spoke hastily.

-

-"They're in Worcester."

-

-"Whereabouts in Worcester?"

-

-"At the depôt."

-

-"What depôt?"

-

-"There's only one, isn't there?"

-

-"Do you mean the station?"

-

-"Sure. The station."

-

-"They're in the Left Luggage place at the station in Worcester," said

-Mr. Molloy. He spoke almost cheerfully, for it had suddenly come to

-him that matters were not so bad as he had supposed them to be, and

-that there was still an avenue unclosed which might lead to a peaceful

-settlement. "And you've got the ticket in your pocket."

-

-John stared.

-

-"That ticket is for a bag my uncle sent the chauffeur to leave at Shrub

-Hill."

-

-"Sure. And the stuff's inside it."

-

-"What do you mean?"

-

-"I'll tell you what I mean," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Atta-boy!" said Chimp faintly. He, too, had now become aware of the

-silver lining. He sank upon the bed, and so profound was his relief

-that the ends of his moustache seemed to spring to life again and cease

-their drooping.

-

-"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "I'll tell you what I mean. It's about

-time you got hep to the fact that that old uncle of yours is one of

-the smoothest birds this side of God's surging Atlantic Ocean. He

-was sitting in with us all along, that's what he was doing. He said

-those heirlooms had never done him any good and it was about time they

-brought him some money. It was all fixed that Chimpie here should swipe

-them and then I was to give the old man a cheque and he was to clean up

-on the insurance, besides. That was when he thought I was a millionaire

-that ran a museum over in America and was in the market for antiques.

-But he got on to me, and then he started in to double-cross us. He took

-the stuff out of where we'd put it and slipped it over to the depôt at

-Worcester, meaning to collect it when he got good and ready. But the

-chauffeur gave the ticket to you, and you came over here, and Chimpie

-doped you and locked you up."

-

-"And you can't do a thing," said Chimp.

-

-"No, sir," agreed Mr. Molloy, "not a thing, not unless you want to

-bring that uncle of yours into it and have him cracking rocks in the

-same prison where they put us."

-

-"I'd like to see that old bird cracking rocks, at that," said Chimp

-pensively.

-

-"So would I like to see him cracking rocks," assented Mr. Molloy

-cordially. "I can't think of anything I'd like better than to see him

-cracking rocks. But not at the expense of me cracking rocks, too."

-

-"Or me," said Chimp.

-

-"Or you," said Mr. Molloy, after a slight pause. "So there's the

-position, Mr. Carroll. You can go ahead and have us pinched, if you

-like, but just bear in mind that if you do there's going to be one of

-those scandals in high life you read about. Yes, sir, real front-page

-stuff."

-

-"You bet there is," said Chimp.

-

-"Yes, sir, you bet there is," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"You're dern tooting there is," said Chimp.

-

-"Yes, sir, you're dern tooting there is," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-And on this note of perfect harmony the partners rested their case and

-paused, looking at John expectantly.

-

-John's reaction to the disclosure was not agreeable. It is never

-pleasant for a spirited young man to find himself baffled, nor is it

-cheering for a member of an ancient family to discover that the head of

-that family has been working in association with criminals and behaving

-in a manner calculated to lead to rock-cracking.

-

-Not for an instant did it occur to him to doubt the story. Although the

-Messrs. Twist and Molloy were men whose statements the prudent would

-be inclined to accept as a rule with reserve, on this occasion it was

-evident that they were speaking nothing but the truth.

-

-"Say, listen," cried Chimp, alarmed. He had been watching John's face

-and did not like the look of it. "No rough stuff!"

-

-John had been contemplating none. Chimp and his companion had ceased

-to matter, and the fury which was making his face rather an unpleasant

-spectacle for two peace-loving men shut up in a small room with him

-was directed exclusively against his uncle Lester. Rudge Hall and its

-treasures were sacred to John; and the thought that Mr. Carmody, whose

-trust they were, had framed this scheme for the house's despoilment was

-almost more than he could bear.

-

-"It isn't us you ought to be sore at," urged Mr. Molloy. "It's that old

-uncle of yours."

-

-"Sure it is," said Chimp.

-

-"Sure it is," echoed Mr. Molloy. Not for a long time had he and his old

-friend found themselves so completely in agreement. "He's the guy you

-want to soak it to."

-

-"I'll say he is," said Chimp.

-

-"I'll say he is," said Mr. Molloy. "Say listen, let me tell you

-something. Something that'll make you feel good. I happen to know that

-old man Carmody is throwing the wool over those insurance people's eyes

-by offering a reward for the recovery of that stuff. A thousand pounds.

-He told me so himself. If you want to get him good and sore, all you've

-got to do is claim it. He won't dare hold out on you."

-

-"Certainly he won't," said Chimp.

-

-"Certainly he won't," said Mr. Molloy. "And will that make him good and

-sore!"

-

-"Will it!" said Chimp.

-

-"Will it!" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Wake me up in the night and ask me," said Chimp.

-

-"Me, too," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-Their generous enthusiasm seemed to have had its effect. The ferocity

-faded from John's demeanour. Something resembling a smile flitted

-across his face, as if some pleasing thought was entertaining him. Mr.

-Molloy relaxed his tension and breathed again. Chimp, in his relief,

-found himself raising a hand to his moustache.

-

-"I see," said John slowly.

-

-He passed his fingers thoughtfully over his unshaven chin.

-

-"Is there a car in your garage?" he asked.

-

-"Sure there's a car in my garage," said Chimp. "Your car."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Certainly."

-

-"But that girl went off in it."

-

-"She sent it back."

-

-So overwhelming was the joy of these tidings that John found himself

-regarding Chimp almost with liking. His car was safe after all. His

-Arab Steed! His Widgeon Seven!

-

-Any further conversation after this stupendous announcement would,

-he felt, be an anti-climax. Without a word he darted to the door and

-passed through, leaving the two partners staring after him blankly.

-

-"Well, what do you know about that?" said Chimp.

-

-Mr. Molloy's comment on the situation remained unspoken, for even as

-his lips parted for the utterance of what would no doubt have been a

-telling and significant speech, there came from the corridor outside a

-single, thunderous "Oo-er!" followed immediately by a sharp, smacking

-sound, and then a noise that resembled the delivery of a ton of coals.

-

-Mr. Molloy stared at Chimp. Chimp stared at Mr. Molloy.

-

-"Gosh!" said Chimp, awed.

-

-"Gosh!" said Mr. Molloy.

-

-"That was Flannery!" said Chimp, unnecessarily.

-

-"'Was,'" said Mr. Molloy, "is right."

-

-It was not immediately that either found himself disposed to leave

-the room and institute inquiries--or more probably, judging from that

-titanic crash, a post-mortem. When eventually they brought themselves

-to the deed and crept palely to the head of the stairs they were

-enabled to see, resting on the floor below, something which from

-its groans appeared at any rate for the moment to be alive. Then

-this object unscrambled itself and, rising, revealed the features of

-Sergeant-Major Flannery.

-

-Mr. Flannery seemed upset about something.

-

-"Was it you, sir?" he inquired in tones of deep reproach. "Was it you,

-Mr. Twist, that unlocked that Case's door?"

-

-"I wanted to have a talk with him," said Chimp, descending the stairs

-and gazing remorsefully at his assistant.

-

-"I have the honour to inform you," said Mr. Flannery formally, "that

-the Case has legged it."

-

-"Are you hurt?"

-

-"In reply to your question, sir," said Mr. Flannery in the same formal

-voice, "I _am_ hurt."

-

-It would have been plain to the most casual observer that the man was

-speaking no more than the truth. How in the short time at his disposal

-John had managed to do it was a mystery which baffled both Chimp and

-his partner. An egg-shaped bump stood out on the Sergeant-Major's

-forehead like a rocky promontory, and already he was exhibiting one of

-the world's most impressive black eyes. The thought that there, but

-for the grace of God, went Alexander Twist filled the proprietor of

-Healthward Ho with so deep a feeling of thankfulness that he had to

-clutch at the banister to support himself.

-

-A similar emotion was plainly animating Mr. Molloy. To have been

-shut up in a room with a man capable of execution like that--a man,

-moreover, nurturing a solid and justifiable grudge against him, and to

-have escaped uninjured was something that seemed to him to call for

-celebration. He edged off in the direction of the study. He wanted a

-drink, and he wanted it quick.

-

-Mr. Flannery, pressing a hand to his wounded eye, continued with the

-other to hold Chimp rooted to the spot. It was an eye that had much of

-the quality of the Ancient Mariner's, and Chimp did not attempt to move.

-

-"If you had listened to my advice, sir," said Mr. Flannery coldly,

-"this would never have happened. Did I or did I not say to you, Mr.

-Twist, did I or did I not repeatedly say that it was imperative and

-essential that that Case be kept securely under lock and key? And then

-you go asking for it, sir, begging for it, pleading for it, by opening

-the door and giving him the opportunity to roam the 'ouse at his sweet

-will and leg it when so disposed. I 'ad just reached the 'ead of the

-stairs when I see him. I said Oo-er! I said, and advanced smartly at

-the double to do my duty, that being what I am paid for, an' what I

-draw my salary for doing, and the next thing I know I'd copped it

-square in the eye and him and me was rolling down the stairs together.

-I bumped my 'ead against the woodwork at the bottom or it may have

-been that chest there, and for a moment all went black and I knew no

-more." Mr. Flannery paused. "All went black and I knew no more," he

-repeated, liking the phrase. "And when I came to, as the expression is,

-the Case had gone. Where he is now, Mr. Twist, 'oo can say? Murdering

-the patients as like as not or...."

-

-He broke off. Outside on the drive, diminishing in the distance,

-sounded the engine of a car.

-

-"That's him," said Mr. Flannery. "He's gorn!" He brooded for a moment.

-

-"Gorn!" he resumed. "Gorn to range the countryside and maybe 'ave 'alf

-a dozen assassinations on his conscience before the day's out. And

-you'll be responsible, Mr. Twist. On that Last Awful Day, Mr. Twist,

-when you and I and all of us come up before the Judgment Seat, do

-you know what'll 'appen? I'll tell you what'll 'appen. The Lord God

-Almighty will say, angry-like, ''Oo's responsible for all these corpses

-I see laying around 'ere?' and 'E'll look at you sort of sharp, and

-you'll have to rise up and say, 'It was me! I'm responsible for them

-corpses.' If I'd of done as Sergeant-Major Flannery repeatedly told me

-and kep' that Case under lock and key, as the saying is, there wouldn't

-have been none of these poor murdered blokes.' That's what you'll 'ave

-to rise and say, Mr. Twist. I will now leave you, sir, as I wish to go

-into the kitchen and get that young Rosa to put something on this nasty

-bruise and eye of mine. If you 'ave any further instructions for me,

-Mr. Twist, I'll be glad to attend to them. If not, I'll go up to my

-room and have a bit of a lay-down. Good morning, sir."

-

-The Sergeant-Major had said his say. He withdrew in good order along

-previously prepared lines of retreat. And Chimp, suddenly seized with

-the same idea which had taken Soapy to the study, moved slowly off down

-the passage.

-

-In the study he found Mr. Molloy, somewhat refreshed, seated at the

-telephone.

-

-"What are you doing?" he asked.

-

-"Playing the flute," replied Mr. Molloy shortly.

-

-"Who are you 'phoning to?"

-

-"Dolly, if you want to know. I've got to tell her about all this

-business going bloo-ey, haven't I? I've got to break it to her that

-after all her trouble and pains she isn't going to get a cent out of

-the thing, haven't I?"

-

-Chimp regarded his partner with disfavour. He wished he had never seen

-Mr. Molloy. He wished he might never see him again. He wished he were

-not seeing him now.

-

-"Why don't you go up to London and tell her?" he demanded sourly.

-"There's a train in twenty minutes."

-

-"I'd rather do it on the 'phone," said Mr. Molloy.

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER XIV

-

-

-                                   I

-

-The sun, whose rays had roused Sergeant-Major Flannery from his

-slumbers at Healthward Ho that morning, had not found it necessary to

-perform the same office for Lester Carmody at Rudge Hall. In spite of

-the fact that he had not succeeded in getting to sleep till well on in

-the small hours, Mr. Carmody woke early. There is no alarm clock so

-effective as a disturbed mind.

-

-And Mr. Carmody's mind was notably disturbed. On the previous night he

-had received shock after shock, each more staggering than the last.

-First, Bolt, the chauffeur, had revealed the fact that he had given the

-fateful ticket to John. Then Sturgis, after letting fall in the course

-of his babblings the information that Mr. Molloy knew that John had the

-ticket, had said that that young man, when last seen, had been going

-off in the company of Dolly Molloy. And finally, John had not only

-failed to appear at dinner but was not to be discovered anywhere on the

-premises at as late an hour as midnight.

-

-In these circumstances, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Mr.

-Carmody's repose was not tranquil. To one who, like himself, had had

-the advantage of hearing the views of the Molloy family on the virtues

-of knock-out drops there could be no doubt as to what had happened.

-John, suspecting nothing, must have allowed himself to be lured into

-the trap, and by this time the heirlooms of Rudge Hall were probably in

-London.

-

-Having breakfasted, contrary to the habit of years, quickly and

-sketchily, Mr. Carmody, who had haunted the stable yard till midnight,

-went there again in the faint hope of finding that his nephew had

-returned. But except for Emily, who barked at him, John's room was

-empty. Mr. Carmody wandered out into the grounds, and for some half

-hour paced the gravel paths in growing desolation of soul. Then, his

-tortured nerves becoming more and more afflicted by the behaviour of

-one of the under-gardeners who, full of the feudal spirit, insisted on

-touching his hat like a clockwork toy every time his employer passed,

-he sought refuge in his study.

-

-It was there, about one hour later, that John found him.

-

-Mr. Carmody's first emotion on beholding his long-lost nephew was one

-of ecstatic relief.

-

-"John!" he cried, bounding from his chair.

-

-Then, chilling his enthusiasm, came the thought that there might be no

-occasion for joy in this return. Probably, he reflected, John, after

-being drugged and robbed of the ticket, had simply come home in the

-ordinary course of events. After all, there would have been no reason

-for those scoundrels to detain him. Once they had got the ticket, John

-would have ceased to count.

-

-"Where have you been?" he asked in a flatter voice.

-

-A rather peculiar smile came and went on John's face.

-

-"I spent the night at Healthward Ho," he said. "Were you worried about

-me?"

-

-"Extremely worried."

-

-"I'm sorry. Doctor Twist is a hospitable chap. He wouldn't let me go."

-

-Mr. Carmody, on the point of speaking, checked himself. His position,

-he suddenly saw, was a delicate one. Unless he were prepared to lay

-claim to the possession of special knowledge, which he certainly was

-not, anything in the nature of agitation on his part must inevitably

-seem peculiar. To those without special knowledge Mr. Twist, Mr.

-Molloy, and Dolly were ordinary, respectable persons and there was no

-reason for him to exhibit concern at the news that John had spent the

-night at Healthward Ho.

-

-"Indeed?" he said carefully.

-

-"Yes," said John. "Most hospitable he was. I can't say I liked him,

-though."

-

-"No?"

-

-"No. Perhaps what prejudiced me against him was the fact of his having

-burgled the Hall the night before last."

-

-More and more Mr. Carmody was feeling, as Ronnie Fish had no doubt

-felt at the concert, that he had been forced into playing a part to

-which he was not equal. It was obviously in the rôle that at this point

-he should register astonishment, and he did his best to do so. But

-the gasp he gave sounded so unconvincing to him that he hastened to

-supplement his words.

-

-"What! What are you saying? Doctor Twist?"

-

-"Doctor Twist."

-

-"But.... But...!"

-

-"It's come as quite a surprise to you, hasn't it?" said John. And for

-the first time since this interview had begun Mr. Carmody became alive

-to the fact that in his nephew's manner there was a subtle something

-which he did not like, something decidedly odd. This might, of course,

-simply be due to the circumstance that the young man's chin was

-bristling with an unsightly growth and his eyes red about the rims.

-Perhaps it was merely his outward appearance that gave the suggestion

-of the sinister. But Mr. Carmody did not think so. He noted now that

-John's eyes, besides being red, were strangely keen. Their expression

-seemed, to his sensitive conscience, accusing. The young man was

-looking at him--yes, undoubtedly the young man was looking at him most

-unpleasantly.

-

-"By the way," said John, "Bolt gave me this ticket yesterday to give to

-you. I forgot about it till it was too late."

-

-The relatively unimportant question of whether or not there was a

-peculiar look in his nephew's eyes immediately ceased to vex Mr.

-Carmody. All he felt at this instant was an almost suffocating elation.

-He stretched out an unsteady hand.

-

-"Oh, yes," he heard himself saying. "That ticket. Quite so, of course.

-Bolt left a bag for me at Shrub Hill Station."

-

-"He did."

-

-"Give me the ticket."

-

-"Later," said John, and put it back in his pocket.

-

-Mr. Carmody's elation died away. There was no question now about

-the peculiar look in his companion's eye. It was a grim look. A

-hard, accusing look. Not at all the sort of look a man with a tender

-conscience likes to have boring into him.

-

-"What--what do you mean?"

-

-John continued to regard him with that unpleasantly fixed stare.

-

-"I hear you have offered a reward of a thousand pounds for the recovery

-of those things that were stolen, Uncle Lester."

-

-"Er--yes. Yes."

-

-"I'll claim it."

-

-"What!"

-

-"Uncle Lester," said John, and his voice made a perfect match for his

-eye, "before I left Healthward Ho I had a little talk with Mr. Twist

-and his friend Mr. Molloy. They told me a lot of interesting things. Do

-you get my meaning, or shall I make it plainer?"

-

-Mr. Carmody, who had bristled for a moment with the fury of a

-parsimonious man who sees danger threatening his cheque book, sank

-slowly back into his chair like a balloon coming to rest.

-

-"Good!" said John. "Write out a cheque and make it payable to Colonel

-Wyvern."

-

-"Colonel Wyvern?"

-

-"I am passing the reward on to him. I have a particular reason for

-wanting to end all that silly trouble between you two, and I think this

-should do it. I know he is simply waiting for you to make some sort of

-advance. So you're going to make an advance--of a thousand pounds."

-

-Mr. Carmody gulped.

-

-"Wouldn't five hundred be enough?"

-

-"A thousand."

-

-"It's such a lot of money."

-

-"A nice round sum," said John.

-

-Mr. Carmody did not share his nephew's views as to what constituted

-niceness and roundness in a sum of money, but he did not say so. He

-sighed deeply and drew his cheque book from its drawer. He supposed in

-a vague sort of way that he ought to be feeling grateful to the young

-man for not heaping him with reproaches and recrimination, but the

-agony of what he was about to do prevented any such emotion. All he

-could feel was that dull, aching sensation which comes to most of us

-when we sit down to write cheques for the benefit of others.

-

-It was as if some malignant fate had brooded over him, he felt, ever

-since this business had started. From the very first, life had been

-one long series of disbursements. All the expense of entertaining the

-Molloy family, not to mention the unspeakable Ronnie Fish.... The car

-going to and fro between Healthward Ho and Rudge at six shillings per

-trip.... The five hundred pounds he had had to pay to get Hugo out of

-the house.... And now this appalling, devastating sum for which he had

-just begun to write his cheque. Money going out all the time! Money ...

-money ... money ... And all for nothing!

-

-He blotted the cheque and held it out.

-

-"Don't give it to me," said John. "You're coming with me now to Colonel

-Wyvern's house, to hand it to him in person with a neat little speech."

-

-"I shan't know what to say."

-

-"I'll tell you."

-

-"Very well."

-

-"And after that," said John, "you and he are going to be like two

-love-birds." He thumped the desk. "Do you understand? Love-birds."

-

-"Very well."

-

-There was something in the unhappy man's tone as he spoke, something so

-crushed and forlorn that John could not but melt a little. He paused at

-the door. It crossed his mind that he might possibly be able to cheer

-him up.

-

-"Uncle Lester," he said, "how did you get on with Sergeant-Major

-Flannery at Healthward Ho?"

-

-Mr. Carmody winced. Unpleasant memories seemed to be troubling him.

-

-"Just before I left," said John, "I blacked his eye and we fell

-downstairs together."

-

-"Downstairs?"

-

-"Right down the entire flight. He thumped his head against an oak

-chest."

-

-On Mr. Carmody's drawn face there hovered for an instant a faint

-flickering smile.

-

-"I thought you'd be pleased," said John.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Colonel Wyvern hitched the celebrated eyebrows into a solid mass across

-the top of his nose, and from beneath them stared hideously at Jane,

-his parlour maid. Jane had just come into the morning room, where he

-was having a rather heated conversation with his daughter, Patricia,

-and had made the astounding statement that Mr. Lester Carmody was

-waiting in his front hall.

-

-"Who?" said Colonel Wyvern, rumbling like a thunder cloud.

-

-"Sir, please, sir, Mr. Carmody."

-

-"Mr. Carmody?"

-

-"And Mr. Carroll, sir."

-

-Pat, who had been standing by the French windows, caught in her breath

-with a little click of her firm white teeth.

-

-"Show them in, Jane," she said.

-

-"Yes, miss."

-

-"I will not see that old thug," said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-"Show them in, Jane," repeated Pat, firmly. "You must, Father," she

-said as the door closed. "He may have come to apologize about that

-dynamite thing."

-

-"Much more likely he's come about that business of yours. Well, I've

-told you already and I say it again that nothing will induce me..."

-

-"All right, Father. We can talk about that later. I'll be out in the

-garden if you want me."

-

-She went out through the French windows, and almost simultaneously the

-door opened and John and his uncle came in.

-

-John paused in the doorway, gazing eagerly toward the garden.

-

-"Was that Pat?" he asked.

-

-"I beg your pardon," said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-"Was that Pat I thought I caught a glimpse of, going into the garden?"

-

-"My daughter has just gone into the garden," said Colonel Wyvern with

-cold formality.

-

-"Oh?" said John. He seemed about to follow her but a sudden bark from

-the owner of the house brought him to a halt.

-

-"Well?" said Colonel Wyvern, and the monosyllable was a verbal pistol

-shot. It brought John back instantly from dreamland, and, almost more

-than the spectacle of his host's eyebrows, told him that life was stern

-and life was earnest.

-

-"Oh, yes," he said.

-

-"What do you mean, Oh yes?"

-

-John advanced to the table, meeting the Colonel's gaze with a steady

-eye. There is this to be said for being dosed with knock-out drops and

-shut up in locked rooms and having to take your meals through bars from

-the hands of a sergeant-major whom only a mother could love--it fits

-a normally rather shy and diffident young man for the battles of life

-as few other experiences would be able to fit him. The last time he

-and this bushy-eyebrowed man had met, John had quailed. But now mere

-eyebrows meant nothing to him. He felt hardened, like one who has been

-through the furnace.

-

-"I suppose you are surprised to see us here?"

-

-"More surprised than pleased."

-

-"My uncle was anxious to have a few words with you."

-

-"I have not the slightest desire...."

-

-"If you will just let me explain...."

-

-"I repeat, I have not the slightest desire...."

-

-"SIT DOWN!" said John.

-

-Colonel Wyvern sat down, rather as if he had been hamstrung. The action

-had been purely automatic, the outcome of that involuntary spasm of

-acquiescence which comes upon everybody when someone speaks very

-loudly and peremptorily in their presence. His obsequiousness was only

-momentary, and he was about to inquire of John what the devil he meant

-by speaking to him like that, when the young man went on.

-

-"My uncle has been very much concerned," said John, "about that

-unfortunate thing that happened in the park some weeks ago. It has been

-on his mind."

-

-The desire to say something almost inhumanely sarcastic and the

-difficulty of finding just the right words caused the Colonel to miss

-his chance of interrupting at this point. What should have been a

-searing retort became a mere splutter.

-

-"He feels he behaved badly to you. He admits freely that in grabbing

-you round the waist and putting you in between him and that dynamite he

-acted on the spur of an impulse to which he should never have yielded.

-He has been wondering ever since how best he might heal the breach.

-Haven't you, Uncle Lester?"

-

-Mr. Carmody swallowed painfully.

-

-"Yes."

-

-"He says 'Yes'," said John, relaying the information to its receiving

-station. "You have always been his closest friend, and the thought that

-there was this estrangement has been preying on my uncle's mind. This

-morning, unable to endure it any longer, he came to me and asked my

-advice. I was very glad to give it him. And I am still more glad that

-he took it. My uncle will now say a few words.... Uncle Lester!"

-

-Mr. Carmody rose haltingly from his seat. He was a man who stood on the

-verge of parting with one thousand pounds in cool cash, and he looked

-it. His face was haggard, and his voice, when he contrived to speak,

-thin and trembling.

-

-"Wyvern, I...."

-

-"... thought ..." prompted John.

-

-"I thought," said Mr. Carmody, "that in the circumstances...."

-

-"It would be best...."

-

-"It would be best if...."

-

-Words--and there should have been sixty-three more of them--failed Mr.

-Carmody. He pushed a slip of paper across the table and resumed his

-seat, a suffering man.

-

-"I fail to...." began Colonel Wyvern. And then his eye fell on the slip

-of paper, and pomposity slipped from him like breath off a razor blade.

-"What--what----?" he said.

-

-"Moral and intellectual damages," said John. "My uncle feels he owes it

-to you."

-

-Silence fell upon the room. The Colonel had picked up the cheque and

-was scrutinizing it as if he had been a naturalist and it some rare

-specimen encountered in the course of his walks abroad. His eyebrows,

-disentangling themselves and moving apart, rose in an astonishment he

-made no attempt to conceal. He looked from the cheque to Mr. Carmody

-and back again.

-

-"Good God!" said Colonel Wyvern.

-

-With a sudden movement he tore the paper in two, burst into a crackling

-laugh and held his hand out.

-

-"Good God!" he cried jovially. "Do you think I want money? All I ever

-wanted was for you to admit you were an old scoundrel and murderer, and

-you've done it. And if you knew how lonely it's been in this infernal

-place with no one to speak to or smoke a cigar with...."

-

-Mr. Carmody had risen, in his eyes the look of one who sees visions and

-beholds miracles. He gazed at his old friend in awe. Long as he had

-known him, it was only now that he realized his true nobility of soul.

-

-"Wyvern!"

-

-"Carmody," said Colonel Wyvern, "how are the pike?"

-

-"The pike?" Mr. Carmody blinked, still dazed. "Pike?"

-

-"In the moat. Have you caught the big one yet?"

-

-"Not yet."

-

-"I'll come up and try for him this afternoon, shall I?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"He says 'Yes'," said John, interpreting.

-

-"And only just now," said Colonel Wyvern, "I was savaging my daughter

-because she wanted to marry into your family!"

-

-"What's that?" cried Mr. Carmody, and John clutched the edge of the

-table. His heart had given a sudden, ecstatic leap, and for an instant

-the room had seemed to rock about him.

-

-"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. He broke into another of his laughs, and

-John could not help wondering where Pat had got that heavenly tinkle of

-silver bells which served her on occasion when she was amused. Not from

-her father's side of the family.

-

-"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Carmody.

-

-"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. "She came to me just before you arrived and

-told me that she wanted to marry your nephew Hugo."

-

-

-

-

-                              CHAPTER XV

-

-

-                                   I

-

-Some years before, in pursuance of his duties as a member of the

-English Rugby Football fifteen, it had become necessary for John one

-rainy afternoon in Dublin to fall on the ball at a moment when five or

-six muscular Irish forwards full of Celtic enthusiasm were endeavouring

-to kick it. Until this moment he had always ranked that as the most

-unpleasant and disintegrating experience of his life.

-

-His fingers tightened their clutch on the table. He found its support

-grateful. He blinked, once very quickly as if he had just received a

-blow in the face, and then a second time more slowly.

-

-"Hugo?" he said.

-

-He felt numbed, just as he had felt numbed in Dublin when what had

-appeared to be a flock of centipedes with cleated boots had made him

-the object of their attentions. All the breath had gone out of him, and

-though what he was suffering was at the present more a dull shock than

-actual pain, he realized dimly that there would be pain coming shortly

-in full measure.

-

-"Hugo?" he said.

-

-Faintly blurred by the drumming of the blood in his ears, there came to

-him the sound of his uncle's voice. Mr. Carmody was saying that he was

-delighted. And the utter impossibility of remaining in the same room

-with a man who could be delighted at the news that Pat was engaged to

-Hugo swept over John like a wave. Releasing his grip on the table, he

-laid a course for the French windows and, reaching them, tottered out

-into the garden.

-

-Pat was walking on the little lawn, and at the sight of her his

-numbness left John. He seemed to wake with a start, and, waking, found

-himself in the grip of a great many emotions which, after seething and

-bubbling for a while, crystallized suddenly into a white-hot fury.

-

-He was hurt all over and through and through, but he was so angry that

-only subconsciously was he aware of this. Pat was looking so cool

-and trim and alluring, so altogether as if it caused her no concern

-whatever that she had made a fool of a good man, raising his hopes only

-to let them fall and encouraging him to dream dreams only to shatter

-them, that he felt he hated her.

-

-She turned as he stepped onto the grass, and they looked at one another

-in silence for a moment. Then John, in a voice which was strangely

-unlike his own, said, "Good morning."

-

-"Good morning," said Pat, and there was silence again.

-

-She did not attempt to avoid his eye--the least, John felt, that she

-could have done in the circumstances. She was looking straight at him,

-and there was something of defiance in her gaze. Her chin was tilted.

-To her, judging from her manner, he was not the man whose hopes she had

-frivolously raised by kissing him that night on the Skirme, but merely

-an unwelcome intruder interrupting a pleasant reverie.

-

-"So you're back?" she said.

-

-John swallowed what appeared to be some sort of obstruction half-way

-down his chest. He was anxious to speak, but afraid that, if he spoke,

-he would stammer. And a man on an occasion like this does not wish to

-give away by stammering the fact that he is not perfectly happy and

-debonair and altogether without a care in the world.

-

-"I hear you're engaged to Hugo," he said, speaking carefully and

-spacing the syllables so that they did not run into each other as they

-showed an inclination to do.

-

-"Yes."

-

-"I congratulate you."

-

-"You ought to congratulate him, oughtn't you, and just say to me that

-you hope I'll be happy?"

-

-"I hope you will be happy," said John, accepting this maxim from the

-Book of Etiquette.

-

-"Thanks."

-

-"Very happy."

-

-"Thanks."

-

-There was a pause.

-

-"It's--a little sudden, isn't it?"

-

-"Is it?"

-

-"When did Hugo get back?"

-

-"This morning. His letter arrived by the first post, and he came in

-right on top of it."

-

-"His letter?"

-

-"Yes. He wrote asking me to marry him."

-

-"Oh?"

-

-Pat traced an arabesque on the grass with the toe of her shoe.

-

-"It was a beautiful letter."

-

-"Was it?"

-

-"Very. I didn't think Hugo was capable of it."

-

-John remained for a moment without speaking. He searched his mind for

-care-free, debonair remarks, and found it singularly short of them.

-

-"Hugo's a splendid chap," he contrived to say at length.

-

-"Yes--so bright!"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Nice-looking fellow."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"A thoroughly good chap."

-

-"Yes."

-

-John found that he had exhausted the subject of Hugo's qualities.

-He relapsed into a gray silence and half thought of treading on an

-offensively cheerful worm which had just appeared beside his shoe and

-seemed to be asking for it.

-

-Pat stifled a little yawn.

-

-"Did you have a nice time yesterday?" she asked carelessly.

-

-"Not so very nice," said John. "I dare say you heard that we had a

-burglary up at the Hall? I went off to catch the criminals and they

-caught me!"

-

-"What!"

-

-"I was fool enough to let myself be drugged, and when I woke up I was

-locked in a room with bars on the windows. I only got out an hour or so

-ago."

-

-"Johnnie!"

-

-"However, it all ended happily. I've got back the stuff that was

-stolen."

-

-"But, Johnnie! I thought you had gone off picnicking with that Molloy

-girl."

-

-"It may have been her idea of picnicking. She was one of the gang.

-Quite the leading spirit, I gather."

-

-He had lowered his eyes, wondering once more whether it would not be

-judicious to put it across that worm after all, when an odd choking

-sound caused him to look up. Pat's mouth had opened, and she was

-staring at him wide-eyed. And if she had ever looked more utterly

-beautiful and marvellous, John could not remember the occasion.

-Something seemed to clutch at his throat, and the garden, seen

-indistinctly through a mist, danced a few steps in a tentative sort of

-way, as if it were trying out something new that had just come over

-from America.

-

-And then, as the mist cleared, John found that he and Pat were not, as

-he had supposed, alone. Standing beside him was a rugged and slightly

-unkempt person clad in a bearskin which had obviously not been made to

-measure, in whom he recognized at once that Stone Age Ancestor of his

-who had given him a few words of advice the other night on the path

-leading to the boathouse.

-

-The Ancestor was looking at him reproachfully. In appearance he was

-rather like Sergeant-Major Flannery, and when he spoke it was with that

-well-remembered voice.

-

-"Oo-er," said the Ancestor, peevishly twiddling a flint-axe in his

-powerful fingers. "Now you see, young fellow, what's happened or

-occurred or come about, if I may use the expression, through your not

-doing what I told you. Did I or did I not repeatedly urge and advise

-you to be'ave towards this girl in the manner which 'as been tested

-and proved the correct one by me and all the rest of your ancestors in

-the days when men were men and knew how to go about these matters? Now

-you've lost her, whereas if you'd done as I said...."

-

-"Stay!" said a quiet, saintly voice, and John perceived that another

-form had ranged itself beside him.

-

-"Still, maybe it's not too late even now...."

-

-"No, no," said the newcomer, and John was now able to see that this was

-his Better Self, "I really must protest. Let us, please, be restrained

-and self-effacing. I deprecate these counsels of violence."

-

-"Tested and proved correct...." inserted the Ancestor. "I'm giving him

-good advice, that's what I'm doing. I'm pointing out to 'im, as you may

-say, the proper method."

-

-"I consider your advice subversive to a degree," said Better Self

-coldly, "and I disapprove of your methods. The obviously correct thing

-for this young man to do in the circumstances in which he finds himself

-is to accept the situation like a gentleman. This girl is engaged to

-another man, a good-looking, bright young man, the heir to a great

-estate and an excellent match...."

-

-"Mashed potatoes!" said the Stone Age Ancestor coarsely. "The 'ole

-thing 'ere, young fellow, is you just take this girl and grab her

-and 'old 'er in your arms, as the saying is, and never mind how many

-bright, good-looking young men she's engaged to. 'Strewth! When I was

-in me prime you wouldn't have found me 'esitating. You do as I say, me

-lad, and you won't regret it. Just you spring smartly to attention and

-grab 'er with both 'ands in a soldierly manner."

-

-"Oh, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" said Pat, and her voice was a wail.

-Her eyes were bright with dismay, and her hands fluttered in a helpless

-manner which alone would have been enough to decide a man already

-swaying toward the methods of the good old days when cavemen were

-cavemen.

-

-John hesitated no longer. Hugo be blowed! His Better Self be blowed!

-Everything and everybody be blowed except this really excellent old

-gentleman who, though he might have been better tailored, was so

-obviously a mine of information on what a young man should know.

-Drawing a deep breath and springing smartly to attention, he held out

-his arms in a soldierly manner, and Pat came into them like a little

-boat sailing into harbour after a storm. A faint receding sigh told

-him that his Better Self had withdrawn discomfited, but the sigh was

-drowned by the triumphant approval of the Ancestor.

-

-"Oo-er," boomed the Ancestor thunderously.

-

-"So this is how it feels!" said John to himself.

-

-"Oh, Johnnie!" said Pat.

-

-The garden had learned that dance now. It was simple once you got the

-hang of it. All you had to do, if you were a tree, was to jump up and

-down, while, if you were a lawn, you just went round and round. So the

-trees jumped up and down and the lawn went round and round, and John

-stood still in the middle of it all, admiring it.

-

-"Oh, Johnnie," said Pat. "What on earth shall I do?"

-

-"Go on just like you are now."

-

-"But about Hugo, I mean."

-

-Hugo? Hugo? John concentrated his mind. Yes, he recalled now, there had

-been some little difficulty about Hugo. What was it? Ah, yes.

-

-"Pat," he said, "I love you. Do you love me?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Then what on earth," demanded John, "did you go and do a silly thing

-like getting engaged to Hugo for?"

-

-He spoke a little severely, for in some mysterious fashion all the

-awe with which this girl had inspired him for so many years had left

-him. His inferiority complex had gone completely. And it was due, he

-gathered, purely and solely to the fact that he was holding her in his

-arms and kissing her. At any moment during the last half-dozen years

-this childishly simple remedy had been at his disposal and he had not

-availed himself of it. He was astonished at his remissness, and his

-feeling of gratitude, toward that Ancestor of his in the baggy bearskin

-who had pointed out the way, became warmer than ever.

-

-"But I thought you didn't care a bit for me," wailed Pat.

-

-John stared.

-

-"Who, me?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Didn't care for you?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"You thought I didn't care for you?"

-

-"Well, you had promised to take me to Wenlock Edge and you never turned

-up and I found you had gone out in your car with that Molloy girl.

-Naturally I thought...."

-

-"You shouldn't have."

-

-"Well, I did. And so when Hugo's letter came it seemed such a wonderful

-chance of showing you that I didn't care. And now what am I to do? What

-can I say to Hugo?"

-

-It was a nuisance for John to have to detach his mind from what really

-mattered in life to trivialities like this absurd business of Hugo, but

-he supposed the thing, if only to ease Pat's mind, would have to be

-given a little attention.

-

-"Hugo thinks he's engaged to you?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Well, he isn't."

-

-"No."

-

-"Then that," said John, seeing the thing absolutely clearly, "is all

-we've got to tell him."

-

-"You talk as if it were so simple!"

-

-"So it is. What's hard about it?"

-

-"I wish you had it to do instead of me!"

-

-"But of course I'll do it," said John. It astonished him that she

-should have contemplated any other course. Naturally, when the great

-strong man becomes engaged to the timid, fluttering little girl he

-takes over all her worries and handles in his efficient, masculine way

-any problem that may be vexing her.

-

-"Would you really, Johnnie?"

-

-"Certainly."

-

-"I don't feel I can look him in the face."

-

-"You won't miss much. Where is he?"

-

-"He went off in the direction of the village."

-

-"Carmody Arms," diagnosed John. "I'll go and tell him at once." And he

-strode down the garden with strong, masterful steps.

-

-

-                                  II

-

-Hugo was not in the Carmody Arms. He was standing on the bridge over

-the Skirme, his elbows resting on the parapet, his eyes fixed on the

-flowing water. For a suitor recently accepted by--presumably--the girl

-of his heart, he looked oddly downcast. His eye, when he turned at the

-sound of his name, was the eye of a fish that has had trouble.

-

-"Hullo, John, old man," he said in a toneless voice.

-

-John began to feel his way into the subject he had come to discuss.

-

-"Nice day," he said.

-

-"What is?" said Hugo.

-

-"This."

-

-"I'm glad you think so. John," said Hugo, attaching himself sombrely

-to his cousin's coat sleeve, "I want your advice. In many ways you're

-a stodgy sort of a Gawd-help-us, but you're a level-headed kind of old

-bird, at that, and I want your advice. The fact is, John, believe me or

-believe me not, I've made an ass of myself."

-

-"How's that?"

-

-"I've gone and got engaged to Pat."

-

-Having exploded this bombshell, Hugo leaned against the parapet and

-gazed at his cousin with a certain moody satisfaction.

-

-"Yes?" said John.

-

-"You don't seem much surprised," said Hugo, disappointed.

-

-"Oh, I'm astonished," said John. "How did it happen?"

-

-Hugo, who had released his companion's coat sleeve, now reached out for

-it again. The feel of it seemed to inspire him.

-

-"It was that bloke Bessemer's wedding that started the whole trouble,"

-he said. "You remember I told you about Ronnie's man, Bessemer."

-

-"I remember you said he had remarkable ears."

-

-"Like airplane wings. Nevertheless, in spite of that, he got married

-yesterday. The wedding took place from Ronnie's flat."

-

-"Yes?"

-

-Hugo sighed.

-

-"Well, you know how it is, John, old man. There's something about a

-wedding, even the wedding of a gargoyle like Bessemer, that seems

-to breed sentimentality. It may have been the claret cup. I warned

-Ronnie from the first against the claret cup. A noxious drink. But he

-said--with a good deal of truth, no doubt--that if I thought he was

-going to waste champagne on a blighter who was leaving him in the lurch

-without a tear I was jolly well mistaken. So we more or less bathed in

-claret cup at the subsequent festivities, and it wasn't more than an

-hour afterward when something seemed to come over me all in a rush."

-

-"What?"

-

-"Well, a sort of aching, poignant feeling. All the sorrows of the world

-seemed to be laid out in front of me in a solid mass."

-

-"That sounds more like lobster."

-

-"It may have been the lobster," conceded Hugo. "But I maintain that the

-claret cup helped. Well, I just sat there, bursting with pity for the

-whole human race, and then suddenly it all seemed in a flash, as it

-were, to become concentrated on Pat."

-

-"You burst with pity for Pat?"

-

-"Yes. You see, an idea suddenly came to me. I thought about you and Pat

-and how Pat, in spite of all my arguments, wouldn't look at you, and

-all at once there flashed across me what I took to be the explanation.

-Something seemed to whisper to me that the reason Pat couldn't see you

-with a spy glass was that all these years she had been secretly pining

-for me."

-

-"What on earth made you think that?"

-

-"Looking back on it now, in a clear and judicial frame of mind, I can

-see that it was the claret cup. That and the general ghastly, soppy

-atmosphere of a wedding. I sat straight down, John, old man, and I

-wrote a letter to Pat, asking her to marry me. I was filled with a sort

-of divine pity for the poor girl."

-

-"Why do you call her the poor girl? She wasn't married to you."

-

-"And then I had a moment of sense, so I thought that before I posted

-the letter I'd go for a stroll and think it over. I left the letter on

-Ronnie's desk, and got my hat and took a turn round the Serpentine.

-And, what with the fresh air and everything, pretty soon I found Reason

-returning to her throne. I had been on the very brink, I realized, of

-making a most consummate chump of myself. Here I was, I reflected, on

-the threshold of a career, when it was vitally necessary that I should

-avoid all entanglements, and concentrate myself wholly on my life

-work, deliberately going out of my way to get myself hitched up. I'm

-not saying anything against Pat. Don't think that. We've always been

-the best of pals, and if I were backed into a corner and made to marry

-someone I'd just as soon it was her. It was the principle of the thing

-that was all wrong, if you see what I mean. Entanglements. I had to

-keep myself clear of them."

-

-Hugo paused and glanced down at the water of the Skirme, as if debating

-the advisability of throwing himself into it. After a while he resumed.

-

-"I was bunging a bit of wedding cake to the Serpentine ducks when I

-got this flash of clear vision, and I turned straight round and legged

-it back to the flat to destroy that letter. And when I got there the

-letter had gone. And the bride's mother, a stout old lady with a cast

-in the left eye, who was still hanging about the kitchen, finishing

-up the remains of the wedding feast, told me without a tremor in her

-voice, with her mouth full of lobster mayonnaise, that she had given it

-to Bessemer to post on his way to the station."

-

-"So there you were," said John.

-

-"So there," agreed Hugo, "I was. The happy pair, I knew, were to spend

-the honeymoon at Bexhill, so I rushed out and grabbed a taxi and

-offered the man double fare if he would get me to Victoria Station in

-five minutes. He did it with seconds to spare, but it was too late.

-The first thing I saw on reaching the platform was the Bexhill train

-pulling out. Bessemer's face was visible in one of the front coaches.

-He was leaning out of the window, trying to detach a white satin shoe

-which some kind friend had tied to the door handle. And I slumped back

-against a passing porter, knowing that this was the end."

-

-"What did you do then?"

-

-"I went back to Ronnie's flat to look up the trains to Rudge. Are

-you aware, John, that this place has the rottenest train service in

-England? After the five-sixteen, which I'd missed, there isn't anything

-till nine-twenty. And, what with having all this on my mind and getting

-a bit of dinner and not keeping a proper eye on the clock, I missed

-that, too. In the end, I had to take the 3 A.M. milk train. I won't

-attempt to describe to you what a hell of a journey it was, but I got

-to Rudge at last, and, racing like a hare, rushed to Pat's house. I had

-a sort of idea I might intercept the postman and get him to give me my

-letter back."

-

-"He wouldn't have done that."

-

-"He didn't have to, as things turned out. Just as I got to the house,

-he was coming out after delivering the letters. I think I must have

-gone to sleep then, standing up. At any rate, I came to with a deuce of

-a start, and I was leaning against Pat's front gate, and there was Pat

-looking at me, and I said, 'Hullo!' and she said, 'Hullo! and then she

-said in rather a rummy sort of voice that she'd got my letter and read

-it and would be delighted to marry me."

-

-"And then?"

-

-"Oh, I said, 'Thanks awfully,' or words to that effect, and tooled off

-to the Carmody Arms to get a bite of breakfast. Which I sorely needed,

-old boy. And then I think I fell asleep again, because the next thing

-I knew was old Judwin, the coffee-room waiter, trying to haul my head

-out of the marmalade. After that I came here and stood on this bridge,

-thinking things over. And what I want to know from you, John, is what

-is to be done."

-

-John reflected.

-

-"It's an awkward business."

-

-"Dashed awkward. It's imperative that I oil out, and yet I don't want

-to break the poor girl's heart."

-

-"This will require extraordinarily careful handling."

-

-"Yes."

-

-John reflected again.

-

-"Let me see," he said suddenly, "when did you say Pat got engaged to

-you?"

-

-"It must have been around nine, I suppose."

-

-"You're sure?"

-

-"Well, that would be the time the first post would be delivered,

-wouldn't it?"

-

-"Yes, but you said you went to sleep after seeing the postman."

-

-"That's true. But what does it matter, anyway?"

-

-"It's most important. Well, look here, it was more than ten minutes

-ago, wasn't it?"

-

-"Of course it was."

-

-John's face cleared.

-

-"Then that's all right," he said. "Because ten minutes ago Pat got

-engaged to me."

-

-

-                                  III

-

-A light breeze was blowing through the garden as John returned. It

-played with sunshine in Pat's hair as she stood by the lavender hedge.

-

-"Well?" she said eagerly.

-

-"It's all right," said John.

-

-"You told him?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-There was a pause. The bees buzzed among the lavender.

-

-"Was he----?"

-

-"Cut up?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Yes," said John in a low voice. "But he took it like a sportsman. I

-left him almost cheerful."

-

-He would have said more, but at this moment his attention was diverted

-by a tickling sensation in his right leg. A suspicion that one of the

-bees, wearying of lavender, was exploring the surface of his calf, came

-to John. But, even as he raised a hand to swat the intruder, Pat spoke

-again.

-

-"Johnnie."

-

-"Hullo?"

-

-"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

-

-John's suspicion grew. It felt like a bee. He believed it was a bee.

-

-"Thinking? What about?"

-

-"You."

-

-"Me?"

-

-"Yes."

-

-"What were you thinking about me?"

-

-"Only that you were the most wonderful thing in the world."

-

-"Pat!"

-

-"You are, you know," said Pat, examining him gravely. "I don't know

-what it is about you, and I can't imagine why I have been all

-these years finding it out, but you're the dearest, sweetest, most

-angelic...."

-

-"Tell me more," said John.

-

-He took her in his arms, and time stood still.

-

-"Pat!" whispered John.

-

-He was now positive that it was a bee, and almost as positive that it

-was merely choosing a suitable spot before stinging him. But he made no

-move. The moment was too sacred.

-

-After all, bee stings were good for rheumatism.

-

-

-                                THE END

-

-

-

+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***
+
+
+
+
+
+                           MONEY FOR NOTHING
+
+                          BY P. G. WODEHOUSE
+
+                         GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK
+                   DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & COMPANY, INC.
+                                 1928
+
+                           COPYRIGHT, 1928,
+                          BY P. G. WODEHOUSE
+                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+                    PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT
+                        THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS,
+                          GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
+
+                             FIRST EDITION
+
+
+
+
+                           MONEY FOR NOTHING
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+
+                                   I
+
+The picturesque village of Rudge-in-the-Vale dozed in the summer
+sunshine. Along its narrow High Street the only signs of life visible
+were a cat stropping its backbone against the Jubilee Watering Trough,
+some flies doing deep-breathing exercises on the hot window sills, and
+a little group of serious thinkers who, propped up against the wall of
+the Carmody Arms, were waiting for that establishment to open. At no
+time is there ever much doing in Rudge's main thoroughfare, but the
+hour at which a stranger, entering it, is least likely to suffer the
+illusion that he has strayed into Broadway, Piccadilly, or the Rue de
+Rivoli is at two o'clock on a warm afternoon in July.
+
+You will find Rudge-in-the-Vale, if you search carefully, in
+that pleasant section of rural England where the gray stone of
+Gloucestershire gives place to Worcestershire's old red brick. Quiet,
+in fact, almost unconscious, it nestles beside the tiny river Skirme
+and lets the world go by, somnolently content with its Norman church,
+its eleven public-houses, its Pop.--to quote the Automobile Guide--of
+3,541, and its only effort in the direction of modern progress, the
+emporium of Chas. Bywater, Chemist.
+
+Chas. Bywater is a live wire. He takes no afternoon siesta, but works
+while others sleep. Rudge as a whole is inclined after luncheon to go
+into the back room, put a handkerchief over its face and take things
+easy for a bit. But not Chas. Bywater. At the moment at which this
+story begins he was all bustle and activity, and had just finished
+selling to Colonel Meredith Wyvern a bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir (said to be good for gnat bites).
+
+Having concluded his purchase, Colonel Wyvern would have preferred
+to leave, but Mr. Bywater was a man who liked to sweeten trade with
+pleasant conversation. Moreover, this was the first time the Colonel
+had been inside his shop since that sensational affair up at the Hall
+two weeks ago, and Chas. Bywater, who held the unofficial position of
+chief gossip monger to the village, was aching to get to the bottom of
+that.
+
+With the bare outline of the story he was, of course, familiar. Rudge
+Hall, seat of the Carmody family for so many generations, contained in
+its fine old park a number of trees which had been planted somewhere
+about the reign of Queen Elizabeth. This meant that every now and
+then one of them would be found to have become a wobbly menace to the
+passer-by, so that experts had to be sent for to reduce it with a
+charge of dynamite to a harmless stump. Well, two weeks ago, it seems,
+they had blown up one of the Hall's Elizabethan oaks and as near as a
+toucher, Rudge learned, had blown up Colonel Wyvern and Mr. Carmody
+with it. The two friends had come walking by just as the expert set
+fire to the train and had had a very narrow escape.
+
+Thus far the story was common property in the village, and had been
+discussed nightly in the eleven tap-rooms of its eleven public-houses.
+But Chas. Bywater, with his trained nose for news and that sixth sense
+which had so often enabled him to ferret out the story behind the story
+when things happen in the upper world of the nobility and gentry, could
+not help feeling that there was more in it than this. He decided to
+give his customer the opportunity of confiding in him.
+
+"Warm day, Colonel," he observed.
+
+"Ur," grunted Colonel Wyvern.
+
+"Glass going up, I see."
+
+"Ur."
+
+"May be in for a spell of fine weather at last."
+
+"Ur."
+
+"Glad to see you looking so well, Colonel, after your little accident,"
+said Chas. Bywater, coming out into the open.
+
+It had been Colonel Wyvern's intention, for he was a man of testy
+habit, to enquire of Mr. Bywater why the devil he couldn't wrap a
+bottle of Brophy's Elixir in brown paper and put a bit of string round
+it without taking the whole afternoon over the task: but at these words
+he abandoned this project. Turning a bright mauve and allowing his
+luxuriant eyebrows to meet across the top of his nose, he subjected the
+other to a fearful glare.
+
+"Little accident?" he said. "Little accident?"
+
+"I was alluding----"
+
+"Little accident!"
+
+"I merely----"
+
+"If by little accident," said Colonel Wyvern in a thick, throaty voice,
+"you mean my miraculous escape from death when that fat thug up at the
+Hall did his very best to murder me, I should be obliged if you would
+choose your expressions more carefully. Little accident! Good God!"
+
+Few things in this world are more painful than the realization that an
+estrangement has occurred between two old friends who for years have
+jogged amiably along together through life, sharing each other's joys
+and sorrows and holding the same views on religion, politics, cigars,
+wine, and the Decadence of the Younger Generation: and Mr. Bywater's
+reaction, on hearing Colonel Wyvern describe Mr. Lester Carmody, of
+Rudge Hall, until two short weeks ago his closest crony, as a fat thug,
+should have been one of sober sadness. Such, however, was not the
+case. Rather was he filled with an unholy exultation. All along he had
+maintained that there was more in that Hall business than had become
+officially known, and he stood there with his ears flapping, waiting
+for details.
+
+These followed immediately and in great profusion: and Mr. Bywater, as
+he drank them in, began to realize that his companion had certain solid
+grounds for feeling a little annoyed. For when, as Colonel Wyvern very
+sensibly argued, you have been a man's friend for twenty years and are
+walking with him in his park and hear warning shouts and look up and
+realize that a charge of dynamite is shortly about to go off in your
+immediate neighbourhood, you expect a man who is a man to be a man. You
+do not expect him to grab you round the waist and thrust you swiftly
+in between himself and the point of danger, so that, when the explosion
+takes place, you get the full force of it and he escapes without so
+much as a singed eyebrow.
+
+"Quite," said Mr. Bywater, hitching up his ears another inch.
+
+Colonel Wyvern continued. Whether, if in a condition to give the matter
+careful thought, he would have selected Chas. Bywater as a confidant,
+one cannot say. But he was not in such a condition. The stoppered
+bottle does not care whose is the hand that removes its cork--all
+it wants is the chance to fizz: and Colonel Wyvern resembled such a
+bottle. Owing to the absence from home of his daughter, Patricia, he
+had had no one handy to act as audience for his grievances, and for two
+weeks he had been suffering torments. He told Chas. Bywater all.
+
+It was a very vivid picture that he conjured up. Mr. Bywater could see
+the whole thing as clearly as if he had been present in person--from
+the blasting gang's first horrified realization that human beings
+had wandered into the danger zone to the almost tenser moment when,
+running up to sort out the tangled heap on the ground, they had
+observed Colonel Wyvern rise from his seat on Mr. Carmody's face and
+had heard him start to tell that gentleman precisely what he thought
+of him. Privately, Mr. Bywater considered that Mr. Carmody had acted
+with extraordinary presence of mind, and had given the lie to the
+theory, held by certain critics, that the landed gentry of England are
+deficient in intelligence. But his sympathies were, of course, with
+the injured man. He felt that Colonel Wyvern had been hardly treated,
+and was quite right to be indignant about it. As to whether the other
+was justified in alluding to his former friend as a jelly-bellied
+hell-hound, that was a matter for his own conscience to decide.
+
+"I'm suing him," concluded Colonel Wyvern, regarding an advertisement
+of Pringle's Pink Pills with a smouldering eye.
+
+"Quite."
+
+"The only thing in the world that super-fatted old Blackhander cares
+for is money, and I'll have his last penny out of him, if I have to
+take the case to the House of Lords."
+
+"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.
+
+"I might have been killed. It was a miracle I wasn't. Five thousand
+pounds is the lowest figure any conscientious jury could put the
+damages at. And, if there were any justice in England, they'd ship the
+scoundrel off to pick oakum in a prison cell."
+
+Mr. Bywater made noncommittal noises. Both parties to this unfortunate
+affair were steady customers of his, and he did not wish to alienate
+either by taking sides. He hoped the Colonel was not going to ask him
+for his opinion of the rights of the case.
+
+Colonel Wyvern did not. Having relieved himself with some six minutes
+of continuous speech, he seemed to have become aware that he had
+bestowed his confidences a little injudiciously. He coughed and changed
+the subject.
+
+"Where's that stuff?" he said. "Good God! Isn't it ready yet? Why does
+it take you fellows three hours to tie a knot in a piece of string?"
+
+"Quite ready, Colonel," said Chas. Bywater hastily. "Here it is. I have
+put a little loop for the finger, to facilitate carrying."
+
+"Is this stuff really any good?"
+
+"Said to be excellent, Colonel. Thank you, Colonel. Much obliged,
+Colonel. Good day, Colonel."
+
+Still fermenting at the recollection of his wrongs, Colonel Wyvern
+strode to the door: and, pushing it open with extreme violence, left
+the shop.
+
+The next moment the peace of the drowsy summer afternoon was shattered
+by a hideous uproar. Much of this consisted of a high, passionate
+barking, the remainder being contributed by the voice of a retired
+military man, raised in anger. Chas. Bywater blenched, and, reaching
+out a hand toward an upper shelf, brought down, in the order named,
+a bundle of lint, a bottle of arnica, and one of the half-crown (or
+large) size pots of Sooth-o, the recognized specific for cuts, burns,
+scratches, nettle stings, and dog bites. He believed in Preparedness.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+While Colonel Wyvern had been pouring his troubles into the twitching
+ear of Chas. Bywater, there had entered the High Street a young man in
+golf clothes and Old Rugbian tie. This was John Carroll, nephew of Mr.
+Carmody, of the Hall. He had walked down to the village, accompanied
+by his dog Emily, to buy tobacco, and his objective, therefore, was
+the same many-sided establishment which was supplying the Colonel with
+Brophy's Elixir.
+
+For do not be deceived by that "Chemist" after Mr. Bywater's name. It
+is mere modesty. Some whim leads this great man to describe himself as
+a chemist, but in reality he goes much deeper than that. Chas. is the
+Marshall Field of Rudge, and deals in everything, from crystal sets to
+mousetraps. There are several places in the village where you can get
+stuff they call tobacco, but it cannot be considered in the light of
+pipe-joy for the discriminating smoker. To obtain something that will
+leave a little skin on the roof of the mouth you must go to Mr. Bywater.
+
+John came up the High Street with slow, meditative strides, a large
+and muscular young man whose pleasant features betrayed at the
+moment an inward gloom. What with being hopelessly in love and one
+thing and another, his soul was in rather a bruised condition these
+days, and he found himself deriving from the afternoon placidity of
+Rudge-in-the-Vale a certain balm and consolation. He had sunk into a
+dreamy trance when he was abruptly aroused by the horrible noise which
+had so shaken Chas. Bywater.
+
+The causes which had brought about this disturbance were simple and
+are easily explained. It was the custom of the dog Emily, on the
+occasions when John brought her to Rudge to help him buy tobacco,
+to yield to an uncontrollable eagerness and gallop on ahead to Mr.
+Bywater's shop--where, with her nose wedged against the door, she would
+stand, sniffing emotionally, till somebody came and opened it. She
+had a morbid passion for cough drops, and experience had taught her
+that by sitting and ogling Mr. Bywater with her liquid amber eyes she
+could generally secure two or three. To-day, hurrying on as usual, she
+had just reached the door and begun to sniff when it suddenly opened
+and hit her sharply on the nose. And, as she shot back with a yelp of
+agony, out came Colonel Wyvern carrying his bottle of Brophy.
+
+There is an etiquette in these matters on which all right-minded dogs
+insist. When people trod on Emily, she expected them immediately to
+fuss over her, and the same procedure seemed to her to be in order when
+they hit her on the nose with doors. Waiting expectantly, therefore,
+for Colonel Wyvern to do the square thing, she was stunned to find that
+he apparently had no intention of even apologizing. He was brushing
+past without a word, and all the woman in Emily rose in revolt against
+such boorishness.
+
+"Just a minute!" she said dangerously. "Just one minute, if you please.
+Not so fast, my good man. A word with you, if I may trespass upon your
+valuable time."
+
+The Colonel, chafing beneath the weight of his wrongs, perceived that
+they had been added to by a beast of a hairy dog that stood and yapped
+at him.
+
+"Get out!" he bellowed.
+
+Emily became hysterical.
+
+"Indeed?" she said shrilly. "And who do you think you are, you poor
+clumsy Robot? You come hitting ladies on the nose as if you were the
+King of England, and as if that wasn't enough...."
+
+"Go away, sir."
+
+"Who the devil are you calling Sir?" Emily had the Twentieth Century
+girl's freedom of speech and breadth of vocabulary. "It's people like
+you that cause all this modern unrest and industrial strife. I know
+your sort well. Robbers and oppressors. And let me tell you another
+thing...."
+
+At this point the Colonel very injudiciously aimed a kick at Emily.
+
+It was not much of a kick, and it came nowhere near her, but it
+sufficed. Realizing the futility of words, Emily decided on action. And
+it was just as she had got a preliminary grip on the Colonel's left
+trouser leg that John arrived at the Front.
+
+"Emily!!!" roared John, shocked to the core of his being.
+
+He had excellent lungs, and he used them to the last ounce of their
+power. A young man who sees the father of the girl he loves being
+swallowed alive by a Welsh terrier does not spare his voice. The
+word came out of him like the note of the Last Trump, and Colonel
+Wyvern, leaping spasmodically, dropped his bottle of Brophy. It fell
+on the pavement and exploded, and Emily, who could do her bit in a
+rough-and-tumble but barred bombs, tucked her tail between her legs
+and vanished. A faint, sleepy cheering from outside the Carmody Arms
+announced that she had passed that home from home and was going well.
+
+John continued to be agitated. You would not have supposed, to look
+at Colonel Wyvern, that he could have had an attractive daughter, but
+such was the case, and John's manner was as concerned and ingratiating
+as that of most young men in the presence of the fathers of attractive
+daughters.
+
+"I'm so sorry, Colonel. I do hope you're not hurt, Colonel."
+
+The injured man, maintaining an icy silence, raked him with an eye
+before which sergeant-majors had once drooped like withered roses, and
+walked into the shop. The anxious face of Chas. Bywater loomed up over
+the counter. John hovered in the background. "I want another bottle of
+that stuff," said the Colonel shortly.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," said John.
+
+"I dropped the other outside. I was attacked by a savage dog."
+
+"I'm frightfully sorry."
+
+"People ought not to have these pests running loose and not under
+proper control."
+
+"I'm fearfully sorry."
+
+"A menace to the community and a nuisance to everybody," said Colonel
+Wyvern.
+
+"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.
+
+Conversation languished. Chas. Bywater, realizing that this was no
+moment for lingering lovingly over brown paper and toying dreamily with
+string, lowered the record for wrapping a bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir by such a margin that he set up a mark for other chemists to
+shoot at for all time. Colonel Wyvern snatched it and stalked out,
+and John, who had opened the door for him and had not been thanked,
+tottered back to the counter and in a low voice expressed a wish for
+two ounces of the Special Mixture.
+
+"Quite," said Mr. Bywater. "In one moment, Mr. John."
+
+With the passing of Colonel Wyvern a cloud seemed to have rolled
+away from the chemist's world. He was his old, charmingly chatty self
+again. He gave John his tobacco, and, detaining him by the simple means
+of not handing over his change, surrendered himself to the joys of
+conversation.
+
+"The Colonel appears a little upset, sir."
+
+"Have you got my change?" said John.
+
+"It seems to me he hasn't been the same man since that unfortunate
+episode up at the Hall. Not at all the same sunny gentleman."
+
+"Have you got my change?"
+
+"A very unfortunate episode, that," sighed Mr. Bywater.
+
+"My change?"
+
+"I could see, the moment he walked in here, that he was not himself.
+Shaken. Something in the way he looked at one. I said to myself 'The
+Colonel's shaken!'"
+
+John, who had had such recent experience of the way Colonel Wyvern
+looked at one, agreed. He then asked if he might have his change.
+
+"No doubt he misses Miss Wyvern," said Chas. Bywater, ignoring the
+request with an indulgent smile. "When a man's had a shock like the
+Colonel's had--when he's shaken, if you understand what I mean--he
+likes to have his loved ones around him. Stands to reason," said Mr.
+Bywater.
+
+John had been anxious to leave, but he was so constituted that he could
+not tear himself away from anyone who had touched on the subject of
+Patricia Wyvern. He edged a little nearer the counter.
+
+"Well, she'll be home again soon," said Chas. Bywater. "To-morrow, I
+understand."
+
+A powerful current of electricity seemed to pass itself through John's
+body. Pat Wyvern had been away so long that he had fallen into a sort
+of dull apathy in which he wondered sometimes if he would ever see her
+again.
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, sir. She returned from France yesterday. She had a good crossing.
+She is at the Lincoln Hotel, Curzon Street, London. She thinks of
+taking the three-o'clock train to-morrow. She is in excellent health."
+
+It did not occur to John to question the accuracy of the other's
+information, nor to be surprised at its minuteness of detail. Mr.
+Bywater, he was aware, had a daughter in the post office.
+
+"To-morrow!" he gasped.
+
+"Yes, sir. To-morrow."
+
+"Give me my change," said John.
+
+He yearned to be off. He wanted air and space in which he could ponder
+over this wonderful news.
+
+"No doubt," said Mr. Bywater, "she...."
+
+"Give me my change," said John.
+
+Chas. Bywater, happening to catch his eye, did so.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+To reach Rudge Hall from the door of Chas. Bywater's shop, you go up
+the High Street, turn sharp to the left down River Lane, cross the
+stone bridge that spans the slow-flowing Skirme as it potters past on
+its way to join the Severn, carry on along the road till you come to
+the gates of Colonel Wyvern's nice little house, and then climb a stile
+and take to the fields. And presently you are in the park and can see
+through the trees the tall chimneys and red walls of the ancient home
+of the Carmodys.
+
+The scene, when they are not touching off dynamite there under the
+noses of retired military officers, is one of quiet peace. For John
+it had always held a peculiar magic. In the fourteen years which had
+passed since the Wyverns had first come to settle in Rudge Pat had
+contrived, so far as he was concerned, to impress her personality
+ineffaceably on the landscape. Almost every inch of it was in some
+way associated with her. Stumps on which she had sat and swung her
+brown-stockinged legs; trees beneath which she had taken shelter with
+him from summer storms; gates on which she had climbed, fields across
+which she had raced, and thorny bushes into which she had urged him to
+penetrate in search of birds' eggs--they met his eye on every side.
+The very air seemed to be alive with her laughter. And not even the
+recollection that that laughter had generally been directed at himself
+was able to diminish for John the glamour of this mile of Fairyland.
+
+Half-way across the park, Emily rejoined him with a defensive,
+Where-on-earth-did-you-disappear-to manner, and they moved on in
+company till they rounded the corner of the house and came to the
+stable yard. John had a couple of rooms over the stables, and thither
+he made his way, leaving Emily to fuss round Bolt, the chauffeur, who
+was washing the Dex-Mayo.
+
+Arrived in his sitting room, he sank into a deck chair and filled his
+pipe with Mr. Bywater's Special Mixture. Then, putting his feet up on
+the table, he stared hard and earnestly at the photograph of Pat which
+stood on the mantelpiece.
+
+It was a pretty face that he was looking at--one whose charm not even
+a fashionable modern photographer, of the type that prefers to depict
+his sitters in a gray fog with most of their features hidden from
+view, could altogether obscure. In the eyes, a little slanting, there
+was a Puck-like look, and the curving lips hinted demurely at amusing
+secrets. The nose had that appealing, yet provocative, air which slight
+tip-tiltedness gives. It seemed to challenge, and at the same time to
+withdraw.
+
+This was the latest of the Pat photographs, and she had given it to him
+three months ago, just before she left to go and stay with friends at
+Le Touquet. And now she was coming home....
+
+John Carroll was one of those solid persons who do not waver in their
+loyalties. He had always been in love with Pat, and he always would
+be, though he would have had to admit that she gave him very little
+encouragement. There had been a period when, he being fifteen and she
+ten, Pat had lavished on him all the worship of a small girl for a big
+boy who can wiggle his ears and is not afraid of cows. But since then
+her attitude had changed. Her manner toward him nowadays alternated
+between that of a nurse toward a child who is not quite right in the
+head and that of the owner of a clumsy but rather likable dog.
+
+Nevertheless, he loved her. And she was coming home....
+
+John sat up suddenly. He was a slow thinker, and only now did it occur
+to him just what the position of affairs would be when she did come
+home. With this infernal feud going on between his uncle Lester and
+the old Colonel she would probably look on him as in the enemy's camp
+and refuse to see or speak to him.
+
+The thought chilled him to the marrow. Something, he felt, must be
+done, and swiftly. And, with a flash of inspiration of a kind that
+rarely came to him, he saw what that something was. He must go up
+to London this afternoon, tell her the facts, and throw himself on
+her clemency. If he could convince her that he was whole-heartedly
+pro-Colonel and regarded his uncle Lester as the logical successor
+to Doctor Crippen and the Brides-in-the-Bath murderer, things might
+straighten themselves.
+
+Once the brain gets working, there is no knowing where it will stop.
+The very next instant there had come to John Carroll a thought so new
+and breathtaking that he uttered an audible gasp.
+
+Why shouldn't he ask Pat to marry him?
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+John sat tingling from head to foot. The scales seemed to have fallen
+from his eyes, and he saw clearly where he might quite conceivably have
+been making a grave blunder all these years. Deeply as he had always
+loved Pat, he had never--now he came to think of it--told her so. And
+in this sort of situation the spoken word is quite apt to make all the
+difference.
+
+Perhaps that was why she laughed at him so frequently--because she was
+entertained by the spectacle of a man, obviously in love with her,
+refraining year after year from making any verbal comment on the state
+of his emotions.
+
+Resolution poured over John in a strengthening flood. He looked at
+his watch. It was nearly three. If he got the two-seater and started
+at once, he could be in London by seven, in nice time to take her to
+dinner somewhere. He hurried down the stairs and out into the stable
+yard.
+
+"Shove that car out of the way, Bolt," said John, eluding Emily, who,
+wet to the last hair, was endeavouring to climb up him. "I want to get
+the two-seater."
+
+"Two-seater, sir?"
+
+"Yes. I'm going to London."
+
+"It's not there, Mr. John," said the chauffeur, with the gloomy
+satisfaction which he usually reserved for telling his employer that
+the battery had run down.
+
+"Not there? What do you mean?"
+
+"Mr. Hugo took it, sir, an hour ago. He told me he was going over to
+see Mr. Carmody at Healthward Ho. Said he had important business and
+knew you wouldn't object."
+
+The stable yard reeled before John. Not for the first time in his life,
+he cursed his light-hearted cousin. "Knew you wouldn't object!" It was
+just the fat-headed sort of thing Hugo would have said.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II
+
+
+                                   I
+
+There is something about those repellent words, Healthward Ho, that has
+a familiar ring. You feel that you have heard them before. And then you
+remember. They have figured in letters to the daily papers from time to
+time.
+
+                       THE STRAIN OF MODERN LIFE
+
+    TO THE EDITOR
+
+    _The Times._
+
+    SIR:
+
+    In connection with the recent correspondence in your columns on the
+    Strain of Modern Life, I wonder if any of your readers are aware
+    that there exists in the county of Worcestershire an establishment
+    expressly designed to correct this strain. At Healthward Ho
+    (formerly Graveney Court), under the auspices of the well-known
+    American physician and physical culture expert, Doctor Alexander
+    Twist, it is possible for those who have allowed the demands of
+    modern life to tax their physique too greatly to recuperate in
+    ideal surroundings and by means of early hours, wholesome exercise,
+    and Spartan fare to build up once more their debilitated tissues.
+
+    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.
+
+                                                             I am, sir,
+                                                             Yrs. etc.,
+                                             MENS SANA IN CORPORE SANO.
+
+
+                          DO WE EAT TOO MUCH?
+
+    TO THE EDITOR
+
+    _Daily Mail._
+
+    SIR:
+
+    The correspondence in your columns on the above subject calls to
+    mind a remark made to me not long ago by Doctor Alexander Twist,
+    the well-known American physician and physical culture expert.
+    "Over-eating," said Doctor Twist emphatically, "is the curse of the
+    Age."
+
+    At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), his physical culture
+    establishment in Worcestershire, wholesale exercise and Spartan
+    fare are the order of the day, and Doctor Twist has, I understand,
+    worked miracles with the most apparently hopeless cases.
+
+    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.
+
+                                                             I am, sir,
+                                                             Yrs. etc.,
+                                              MODERATION IN ALL THINGS.
+
+
+                   SHOULD THE CHAPERONE BE RESTORED?
+
+    TO THE EDITOR
+
+    _Daily Express._
+
+    SIR:
+
+    A far more crying need than that of the Chaperone in these modern
+    days is for a Supervisor of the middle-aged man who has allowed
+    himself to get "out of shape."
+
+    At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), in Worcestershire,
+    where Doctor Alexander Twist, the well-known American physician and
+    physical culture expert, ministers to such cases, wonders have been
+    achieved by means of simple fare and mild, but regular, exercise.
+
+    It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.
+
+                                                             I am, sir,
+                                                              Yrs. etc.
+                                                              VIGILANT.
+
+These letters and many others, though bearing a pleasing variety of
+signatures, proceeded in fact from a single gifted pen--that of Doctor
+Twist himself--and among that class of the public which consistently
+does itself too well when the gong goes and yet is never wholly free
+from wistful aspirations toward a better liver they had created a
+scattered but quite satisfactory interest in Healthward Ho. Clients
+had enrolled themselves on the doctor's books, and now, on this summer
+afternoon, he was enabled to look down from his study window at a group
+of no fewer than eleven of them, skipping with skipping ropes under the
+eye of his able and conscientious assistant, ex-Sergeant-Major Flannery.
+
+Sherlock Holmes--and even, on one of his bright days, Doctor
+Watson--could have told at a glance which of those muffled figures was
+Mr. Flannery. He was the only one who went in instead of out at the
+waist-line. All the others were well up in the class of man whom Julius
+Cæsar once expressed a desire to have about him. And pre-eminent among
+them in stoutness, dampness, and general misery was Mr. Lester Carmody,
+of Rudge Hall.
+
+The fact that Mr. Carmody was by several degrees the most
+unhappy-looking member of this little band of martyrs was due to his
+distress, unlike that of his fellow-sufferers, being mental as well as
+physical. He was allowing his mind, for the hundredth time, to dwell on
+the paralyzing cost of these hygienic proceedings.
+
+Thirty guineas a week, thought Mr. Carmody as he bounded up and down.
+Four pound ten a day.... Three shillings and ninepence an hour....
+Three solid farthings a minute.... To meditate on these figures was
+like turning a sword in his heart. For Lester Carmody loved money as he
+loved nothing else in this world except a good dinner.
+
+Doctor Twist turned from the window. A maid had appeared bearing a card
+on a salver.
+
+"Show him in," said Doctor Twist, having examined this. And presently
+there entered a lissom young man in a gray flannel suit.
+
+"Doctor Twist?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The newcomer seemed a little surprised. It was as if he had been
+expecting something rather more impressive, and was wondering why, if
+the proprietor of Healthward Ho had the ability which he claimed, to
+make New Men for Old, he had not taken the opportunity of effecting
+some alterations in himself. For Doctor Twist was a small man, and
+weedy. He had a snub nose and an expression of furtive slyness. And he
+wore a waxed moustache.
+
+However, all this was not the visitor's business. If a man wishes to
+wax his moustache, it is a matter between himself and his God.
+
+"My name's Carmody," he said. "Hugo Carmody."
+
+"Yes. I got your card."
+
+"Could I have a word with my uncle?"
+
+"Sure, if you don't mind waiting a minute. Right now," explained Doctor
+Twist, with a gesture toward the window, "he's occupied."
+
+Hugo moved to the window, looked out, and started violently.
+
+"Great Scott!" he exclaimed.
+
+He gaped down at the group below. Mr. Carmody and colleagues
+had now discarded the skipping ropes and were performing some
+unpleasant-looking bending and stretching exercises, holding their
+hands above their heads and swinging painfully from what one may
+loosely term their waists. It was a spectacle well calculated to
+astonish any nephew.
+
+"How long has he got to go on like that?" asked Hugo, awed.
+
+Doctor Twist looked at his watch.
+
+"They'll be quitting soon now. Then a cold shower and rub down, and
+they'll be through till lunch."
+
+"Cold shower?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You mean to say you make my uncle Lester take cold shower baths?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"Good God!"
+
+A look of respect came into Hugo's face as he gazed upon this master
+of men. Anybody who, in addition to making him tie himself in knots
+under a blazing sun, could lure Uncle Lester within ten yards of a cold
+shower bath was entitled to credit.
+
+"I suppose after all this," he said, "they do themselves pretty well at
+lunch?"
+
+"They have a lean mutton chop apiece, with green vegetables and dry
+toast."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"That's all."
+
+"And to drink?"
+
+"Just water."
+
+"Followed, of course, by a spot of port?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"No port?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"You mean--literally--no port?"
+
+"Not a drop. If your old man had gone easier on the port, he'd not have
+needed to come to Healthward Ho."
+
+"I say," said Hugo, "did you invent that name?"
+
+"Sure. Why?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd ask."
+
+"Say, while I think of it," said Doctor Twist, "have you any
+cigarettes?"
+
+"Oh, rather." Hugo produced a bulging case. "Turkish this side,
+Virginian that."
+
+"Not for me. I was only going to say that when you meet your uncle just
+bear in mind he isn't allowed tobacco."
+
+"Not allowed...? You mean to say you tie Uncle Lester into a lover's
+knot, shoot him under a cold shower, push a lean chop into him
+accompanied by water, and then don't even let the poor old devil get
+his lips around a single gasper?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"Well, all I can say is," said Hugo, "it's no life for a refined
+Caucasian."
+
+Dazed by the information he had received, he began to potter aimlessly
+about the room. He was not particularly fond of his uncle. Mr. Carmody
+Senior's practice of giving him no allowance and keeping him imprisoned
+all the year round at Rudge would alone have been enough to check
+anything in the nature of tenderness, but he did not think he deserved
+quite all that seemed to be coming to him at Healthward Ho.
+
+He mused upon his uncle. A complex character. A man with Lester
+Carmody's loathing for expenditure ought by rights to have been a
+simple liver, existing off hot milk and triturated sawdust like an
+American millionaire. That Fate should have given him, together with
+his prudence in money matters, a recklessness as regarded the pleasures
+of the table seemed ironic.
+
+"I see they've quit," said Doctor Twist, with a glance out of the
+window. "If you want to have a word with your uncle you could do it
+now. No bad news, I hope?"
+
+"If there is I'm the one that's going to get it. Between you and me,"
+said Hugo, who had no secrets from his fellow men, "I've come to try to
+touch him for a bit of money."
+
+"Is that so?" said Doctor Twist, interested. Anything to do with money
+always interested the well-known American physician and physical
+culture expert.
+
+"Yes," said Hugo. "Five hundred quid, to be exact."
+
+He spoke a little despondently, for, having arrived at the window
+again, he was in a position now to take a good look at his uncle. And
+so forbidding had bodily toil and mental disturbance rendered the
+latter's expression that he found the fresh young hopes with which he
+had started out on this expedition rapidly ebbing away. If Mr. Carmody
+were to burst--and he looked as if he might do so at any moment--he,
+Hugo, being his nearest of kin, would inherit, but, failing that,
+there seemed to be no cash in sight whatever.
+
+"Though when I say 'touch'," he went on, "I don't mean quite that. The
+stuff is really mine. My father left me a few thousand, you see, but
+most injudiciously made Uncle Lester my trustee, and I'm not allowed to
+get at the capital without the old blighter's consent. And now a pal of
+mine in London has written offering me a half share in a new night club
+which he's starting if I will put up five hundred pounds."
+
+"I see."
+
+"And what I ask myself," said Hugo, "is will Uncle Lester part? That's
+what I ask myself. I can't say I'm betting on it."
+
+"From what I have seen of Mr. Carmody, I shouldn't say that parting was
+the thing he does best."
+
+"He's got absolutely no gift for it whatever," said Hugo gloomily.
+
+"Well, I wish you luck," said Doctor Twist. "But don't you try to bribe
+him with cigarettes."
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Bribe him with cigarettes. After they have been taking the treatment
+for a while, most of these birds would give their soul for a coffin
+nail."
+
+Hugo started. He had not thought of this; but, now that it had been
+called to his attention, he saw that it was most certainly an idea.
+
+"And don't keep him standing around longer than you can help. He ought
+to get under that shower as soon as possible."
+
+"I suppose I couldn't tell him that owing to my pleading and
+persuasion you've consented to let him off a cold shower to-day?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"It would help," urged Hugo. "It might just sway the issue, as it were."
+
+"Sorry. He must have his shower. When a man's been exercising and has
+got himself into a perfect lather of sweat...."
+
+"Keep it clean," said Hugo coldly. "There is no need to stress the
+physical side. Oh, very well, then, I suppose I shall have to trust to
+tact and charm of manner. But I wish to goodness I hadn't got to spring
+business matters on him on top of what seems to have been a slightly
+hectic morning."
+
+He shot his cuffs, pulled down his waistcoat, and walked with a
+resolute step out of the room. He was about to try to get into the ribs
+of a man who for a lifetime had been saving up to be a miser and who,
+even apart from this trait in his character, held the subversive view
+that the less money young men had the better for them. Hugo was a gay
+optimist, cheerful of soul and a mighty singer in the bath tub, but
+he could not feel very sanguine. However, the Carmodys were a bulldog
+breed. He decided to have a pop at it.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Theoretically, no doubt, the process of exercising flaccid muscles,
+opening hermetically sealed pores, and stirring up a liver which had
+long supposed itself off the active list ought to engender in a man
+a jolly sprightliness. In practice, however, this is not always so.
+That Lester Carmody was in no radiant mood was shown at once by the
+expression on his face as he turned in response to Hugo's yodel from
+the rear. In spite of all that Healthward Ho had been doing to Mr.
+Carmody this last ten days, it was plain that he had not yet got that
+Kruschen feeling.
+
+Nor, at the discovery that a nephew whom he had supposed to be twenty
+miles away was standing at his elbow, did anything in the nature of
+sudden joy help to fill him with sweetness and light.
+
+"How the devil did you get here?" were his opening words of welcome.
+His scarlet face vanished for an instant into the folds of a large
+handkerchief; then reappeared, wearing a look of acute concern. "You
+didn't," he quavered, "come in the Dex-Mayo?"
+
+A thought to shake the sturdiest man. It was twenty miles from Rudge
+Hall to Healthward Ho, and twenty miles back again from Healthward Ho
+to Rudge Hall. The Dex-Mayo, that voracious car, consumed a gallon of
+petrol for every ten miles it covered. And for a gallon of petrol they
+extorted from you nowadays the hideous sum of one shilling and sixpence
+halfpenny. Forty miles, accordingly, meant--not including oil, wear and
+tear of engines, and depreciation of tires--a loss to his purse of over
+six shillings--a heavy price to pay for the society of a nephew whom he
+had disliked since boyhood.
+
+"No, no," said Hugo hastily. "I borrowed John's two-seater,"
+
+"Oh," said Mr. Carmody, relieved.
+
+There was a pause, employed by Mr. Carmody in puffing; by Hugo in
+trying to think of something to say that would be soothing, tactful,
+ingratiating, and calculated to bring home the bacon. He turned over in
+his mind one or two conversational gambits.
+
+("Well, Uncle, you look very rosy."
+
+Not quite right.
+
+"I say, Uncle what ho the School-Girl Complexion?"
+
+Absolutely _no_! The wrong tone altogether.
+
+Ah! That was more like it. "Fit." Yes, that was the word.)
+
+"You look very fit, Uncle," said Hugo.
+
+Mr. Carmody's reply to this was to make a noise like a buffalo pulling
+its foot out of a swamp. It might have been intended to be genial, or
+it might not. Hugo could not tell. However, he was a reasonable young
+man, and he quite understood that it would be foolish to expect the
+milk of human kindness instantly to come gushing like a geyser out of
+a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound uncle who had just been doing bending
+and stretching exercises. He must be patient and suave--the Sympathetic
+Nephew.
+
+"I expect it's been pretty tough going, though," he proceeded. "I mean
+to say, all these exercises and cold showers and lean chops and so
+forth. Terribly trying. Very upsetting. A great ordeal. I think it's
+wonderful the way you've stuck it out. Simply wonderful. It's Character
+that does it. That's what it is. Character. Many men would have chucked
+the whole thing up in the first two days."
+
+"So would I," said Mr. Carmody, "only that damned doctor made me give
+him a cheque in advance for the whole course."
+
+Hugo felt damped. He had had some good things to say about Character,
+and it seemed little use producing them now.
+
+"Well, anyway, you look very fit. Very fit indeed. Frightfully fit.
+Remarkably fit. Extraordinarily fit." He paused. This was getting him
+nowhere. He decided to leap straight to the point at issue. To put his
+fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. "I say, Uncle Lester, what
+I really came about this afternoon was a matter of business."
+
+"Indeed? I supposed you had come merely to babble. What business?"
+
+"You know a friend of mine named Fish?"
+
+"I do not know a friend of yours named Fish."
+
+"Well, he's a friend of mine. His name's Fish. Ronnie Fish."
+
+"What about him?"
+
+"He's starting a new night club."
+
+"I don't care," said Mr. Carmody, who did not.
+
+"It's just off Bond Street, in the heart of London's pleasure-seeking
+area. He's calling it the Hot Spot."
+
+The only comment Mr. Carmody vouchsafed on this piece of information
+was a noise like another buffalo. His face was beginning to lose its
+vermilion tinge, and it seemed possible that in a few moments he might
+come off the boil.
+
+"I had a letter from him this morning. He says he will give me a half
+share if I put up five hundred quid."
+
+"Then you won't get a half share," predicted Mr. Carmody.
+
+"But I've got five hundred. I mean to say, you're holding a lot more
+than that in trust for me."
+
+"Holding," said Mr. Carmody, "is the right word."
+
+"But surely you'll let me have this quite trivial sum for a really
+excellent business venture that simply can't fail? Ronnie knows all
+about night clubs. He's practically lived in them since he came down
+from Cambridge."
+
+"I shall not give you a penny. Have you no conception of the duties of
+a trustee? Trust money has to be invested in gilt-edged securities."
+
+"You'll never find a gilter-edged security than a night club run by
+Ronnie Fish."
+
+"If you have finished this nonsense I will go and take my shower bath."
+
+"Well, look here, Uncle, may I invite Ronnie to Rudge, so that you can
+have a talk with him?"
+
+"You may not. I have no desire to talk with him."
+
+"You'd like Ronnie. He has an aunt in the looney-bin."
+
+"Do you consider that a recommendation?"
+
+"No, I just mentioned it."
+
+"Well, I refuse to have him at Rudge."
+
+"But listen, Uncle. The vicar will be round any day now to get me to
+perform at the village concert. If Ronnie were on the spot, he and I
+could do the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_ and really give the
+customers something for their money."
+
+Even this added inducement did not soften Mr. Carmody.
+
+"I will not invite your friends to Rudge."
+
+"Right ho," said Hugo, a game loser. He was disappointed, but not
+surprised. All along he had felt that that Hot Spot business was merely
+a Utopian dream. There are some men who are temperamentally incapable
+of parting with five hundred pounds, and his uncle Lester was one of
+them. But in the matter of a smaller sum it might be that he would
+prove more pliable, and of this smaller sum Hugo had urgent need.
+"Well, then, putting that aside," he said, "there's another thing I'd
+like to chat about for a moment, if you don't mind."
+
+"I do," said Mr. Carmody.
+
+"There's a big fight on to-night at the Albert Hall. Eustace Rodd
+and Cyril Warburton are going twenty rounds for the welter-weight
+championship. Have you ever noticed," said Hugo, touching on a matter
+to which he had given some thought, "a rather odd thing about boxers
+these days? A few years ago you never heard of one that wasn't Beefy
+This or Porky That or Young Cat's-meat or something. But now they're
+all Claudes and Harolds and Cuthberts. And when you consider that the
+heavyweight champion of the world is actually named Eugene, it makes
+you think a bit. However, be that as it may, these two birds are going
+twenty rounds to-night, and there you are."
+
+"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is all this drivel?"
+
+He eyed his young relative balefully. In an association that had lasted
+many years, he had found Hugo consistently irritating to his nervous
+system, and he was finding him now rather more trying than usual.
+
+"I only meant to point out that Ronnie Fish has sent me a ticket,
+and I thought that, if you were to spring a tenner for the necessary
+incidental expenses--bed, breakfast, and so on ... well, there I would
+be, don't you know."
+
+"You mean you wish to go to London to see a boxing contest?"
+
+"That's it."
+
+"Well, you're not going. You know I have expressly forbidden you to
+visit London. The last time I was weak enough to allow you to go there,
+what happened? You spent the night in a police station."
+
+"Yes, but that was Boat-Race Night."
+
+"And I had to pay five pounds for your fine."
+
+Hugo dismissed the past with a gesture.
+
+"The whole thing," he said, "was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and,
+if you ask me, the verdict of posterity will be that the policeman was
+far more to blame than I was. They're letting a bad type of men into
+the force nowadays. I've noticed it on several occasions. Besides, it
+won't happen again."
+
+"You are right. It will not."
+
+"On second thoughts, then, you will spring that tenner?"
+
+"On first, second, third, and fourth thoughts I will do nothing of the
+kind."
+
+"But, Uncle, do you realize what it would mean if you did?"
+
+"The interpretation I would put upon it is that I was suffering from
+senile decay."
+
+"What it would mean is that I should feel you trusted me, Uncle Lester,
+that you had faith in me. There's nothing so dangerous as a want of
+trust. Ask anybody. It saps a young man's character."
+
+"Let it," said Mr. Carmody callously.
+
+"If I went to London, I could see Ronnie Fish and explain all the
+circumstances about my not being able to go into that Hot Spot thing
+with him."
+
+"You can do that by letter."
+
+"It's so hard to put things properly in a letter."
+
+"Then put them improperly," said Mr. Carmody. "Once and for all, you
+are not going to London."
+
+He had started to turn away as the only means possible of concluding
+this interview, when he stopped, spellbound. For Hugo, as was his habit
+when matters had become difficult and required careful thought, was
+pulling out of his pocket a cigarette case.
+
+"Goosh!" said Mr. Carmody, or something that sounded like that.
+
+He made an involuntary motion with his hand, as a starving man will
+make toward bread: and Hugo, with a strong rush of emotion, realized
+that the happy ending had been achieved and that at the eleventh hour
+matters could at last be put on a satisfactory business basis.
+
+"Turkish this side, Virginian that," he said. "You can have the lot for
+ten quid."
+
+"Say, I think you'd best be getting along and taking your shower, Mr.
+Carmody," said the voice of Doctor Twist, who had come up unobserved
+and was standing at his elbow.
+
+The proprietor of Healthward Ho had a rather unpleasant voice, but
+never had it seemed so unpleasant to Mr. Carmody as it did at that
+moment. Parsimonious though he was, he would have given much for the
+privilege of heaving a brick at Doctor Twist. For at the very instant
+of this interruption he had conceived the Machiavellian idea of
+knocking the cigarette case out of Hugo's hand and grabbing what he
+could from the débris: and now this scheme must be abandoned.
+
+With a snort which came from the very depths of an overwrought soul,
+Lester Carmody turned and shuffled off toward the house.
+
+"Say, you shouldn't have done that," said Doctor Twist, waggling a
+reproachful head at Hugo. "No, sir, you shouldn't have done that. Not
+right to tantalize the poor fellow."
+
+Hugo's mind seldom ran on parallel lines with that of his uncle, but it
+was animated now by the identical thought which only a short while back
+Mr. Carmody had so wistfully entertained. He, too, was feeling that
+what Doctor Twist needed was a brick thrown at him. When he was able to
+speak, however, he did not mention this, but kept the conversation on a
+pacific and businesslike note.
+
+"I say," he said, "you couldn't lend me a tenner, could you?"
+
+"I could not," agreed Doctor Twist.
+
+In Hugo's mind the inscrutable problem of why an all-wise Creator
+should have inflicted a man like this on the world deepened.
+
+"Well, I'll be pushing along, then," he said moodily.
+
+"Going already?"
+
+"Yes, I am."
+
+"I hope," said Doctor Twist, as he escorted his young guest to his
+car, "you aren't sore at me for calling you down about those student's
+lamps. You see, maybe your uncle was hoping you would slip him one, and
+the disappointment will have made him kind of mad. And part of the
+system here is to have the patients think tranquil thoughts."
+
+"Think what?"
+
+"Tranquil, beautiful thoughts. You see, if your mind's all right, your
+body's all right. That's the way I look at it."
+
+Hugo settled himself at the wheel.
+
+"Let's get this clear," he said. "You expect my uncle Lester to think
+beautiful thoughts?"
+
+"All the time."
+
+"Even under a cold shower?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"God bless you!" said Hugo.
+
+He stepped on the self-starter, and urged the two-seater pensively
+down the drive. He was glad when the shrubberies hid him from the view
+of Doctor Twist, for one wanted to forget a fellow like that as soon
+as possible. A moment later, he was still gladder: for, as he turned
+the first corner, there popped out suddenly from a rhododendron bush
+a stout man with a red and streaming face. Lester Carmody had had to
+hurry, and he was not used to running.
+
+"Woof!" he ejaculated, barring the fairway.
+
+Relief flooded over Hugo. The marts of trade had not been closed after
+all.
+
+"Give me those cigarettes!" panted Mr. Carmody.
+
+For an instant Hugo toyed with the idea of creating a rising market.
+But he was no profiteer. Hugo Carmody, the Square Dealer.
+
+"Ten quid," he said, "and they're yours."
+
+Agony twisted Mr. Carmody's glowing features.
+
+"Five," he urged.
+
+"Ten," said Hugo.
+
+"Eight."
+
+"Ten."
+
+Mr. Carmody made the great decision.
+
+"Very well. Give me them. Quick."
+
+"Turkish this side, Virginian that," said Hugo.
+
+The rhododendron bush quivered once more from the passage of a heavy
+body: birds in the neighbouring trees began to sing again their anthems
+of joy: and Hugo, in his trousers pocket two crackling five-pound
+notes, was bowling off along the highway.
+
+Even Doctor Twist could have found nothing to cavil at in the beauty
+of the thoughts he was thinking. He carolled like a linnet in the
+springtime.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+
+"Yes, sir," Hugo Carmody was assuring a listening world as he turned
+the two-seater in at the entrance of the stable yard of Rudge Hall some
+thirty minutes later, "that's my baby. No, sir, don't mean maybe. Yes,
+sir, that's my baby now. And, by the way, by the way...."
+
+"Blast you!" said his cousin John, appearing from nowhere. "Get out of
+that car."
+
+"Hullo, John," said Hugo. "So there you are, John. I say, John, I've
+just been paying a call on the head of the family over at Healthward
+Ho. Why they don't run excursion trains of sightseers there is more
+than I can understand. It's worth seeing, believe me. Large, fat men
+doing bending and stretching exercises. Tons of humanity leaping about
+with skipping ropes. Never a dull moment from start to finish, and
+all clean, wholesome fun, mark you, without a taint of vulgarity or
+suggestiveness. Pack some sandwiches and bring the kiddies. And let me
+tell you the best thing of all, John...."
+
+"I can't stop to listen. You've made me late already."
+
+"Late for what?"
+
+"I'm going to London."
+
+"You are?" said Hugo, with a smile at the happy coincidence. "So am I.
+You can give me a lift."
+
+"I won't."
+
+"I am certainly not going to run behind."
+
+"You're not going to London."
+
+"You bet I'm going to London."
+
+"Well, go by train, then."
+
+"And break into hard-won cash, every penny of which will be needed for
+the big time in the metropolis? A pretty story!"
+
+"Well, anyway, you aren't coming with me."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I don't want you."
+
+"John," said Hugo, "there is more in this than meets the eye. You can't
+deceive me. You are going to London for a purpose. What purpose?"
+
+"If you really want to know, I'm going to see Pat."
+
+"What on earth for? She'll be here to-morrow. I looked in at Chas.
+Bywater's this morning for some cigarettes--and, gosh, how lucky it was
+I did!--by the way, he's putting them down to you--and he told me she's
+arriving by the three-o'clock train."
+
+"I know. Well, I happen to want to see her very particularly to-night."
+
+Hugo eyed his cousin narrowly. He was marshalling the facts and drawing
+conclusions.
+
+"John," he said, "this can mean but one thing. You are driving a
+hundred miles in a shaky car--that left front tire wants a spot of
+air. I should look to it before you start, if I were you--to see a
+girl whom you could see to-morrow in any case by the simple process of
+meeting the three-o'clock train. Your state of mind is such that you
+prefer--actually prefer--not to have my company. And, as I look at you,
+I note that you are blushing prettily. I see it all. You've at last
+decided to propose to Pat. Am I right or wrong?"
+
+John drew a deep breath. He was not one of those men who derive
+pleasure from parading their inmost feelings and discussing with others
+the secrets of their hearts. Hugo, in a similar situation, would have
+advertised his love like the hero of a musical comedy; he would have
+made the round of his friends, confiding in them; and, when the supply
+of friends had given out, would have buttonholed the gardener. But
+John was different. To hear his aspirations put into bald words like
+this made him feel as if he were being divested of most of his more
+important garments in a crowded thoroughfare.
+
+"Well, that settles it," said Hugo briskly. "Such being the case, of
+course you must take me along. I will put in a good word for you. Pave
+the way."
+
+"Listen," said John, finding speech. "If you dare to come within twenty
+miles of us...."
+
+"It would be wiser. You know what you're like. Heart of gold but no
+conversation. Try to tackle this on your own and you'll bungle it."
+
+"You keep out of this," said John, speaking in a low, husky voice that
+suggested the urgent need of one of those throat lozenges purveyed by
+Chas. Bywater and so esteemed by the dog Emily. "You keep right out of
+this."
+
+Hugo shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Just as you please. Hugo Carmody is the last man," he said, a little
+stiffly, "to thrust his assistance on those who do not require same.
+But a word from me would make all the difference, and you know it.
+Rightly or wrongly, Pat has always looked up to me, regarded me as
+a wise elder brother, and, putting it in a nutshell, hung upon my
+lips. I could start you off right. However, since you're so blasted
+independent, carry on, only bear this in mind--when it's all over and
+you are shedding scalding tears of remorse and thinking of what might
+have been, don't come yowling to me for sympathy, because there won't
+be any."
+
+John went upstairs and packed his bag. He packed well and thoroughly.
+This done, he charged down the stairs, and perceived with annoyance
+that Hugo was still inflicting the stable yard with his beastly
+presence.
+
+But Hugo was not there to make jarring conversation. He was present
+now, it appeared, solely in the capacity of Good Angel.
+
+"I've fixed up that tire," said Hugo, "and filled the tank and put in a
+drop of oil and passed an eye over the machinery in general. She ought
+to run nicely now."
+
+John melted. His mood had softened, and he was in a fitter frame of
+mind to remember that he had always been fond of his cousin.
+
+"Thanks. Very good of you. Well, good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," said Hugo. "And heaven speed your wooing, boy."
+
+Freed from the restrictions placed upon a light two-seater by the
+ruts and hillocks of country lanes, John celebrated his arrival on
+the broad main road that led to London by placing a large foot on the
+accelerator and keeping it there. He was behind time, and he intended
+to test a belief which he had long held, that a Widgeon Seven can, if
+pressed, do fifty. To the scenery, singularly beautiful in this part
+of England, he paid no attention. Automatically avoiding wagons by an
+inch and dreamily putting thoughts of the hereafter into the startled
+minds of dogs and chickens, he was out of Worcestershire and into
+Gloucestershire almost before he had really settled in his seat. It
+was only when the long wall that fringes Blenheim Park came into view
+that it was borne in upon him that he would be reaching Oxford in a
+few minutes and could stop for a well-earned cup of tea. He noted with
+satisfaction that he was nicely ahead of the clock.
+
+He drifted past the Martyrs' Memorial, and, picking his way through the
+traffic, drew up at the door of the Clarendon. He alighted stiffly, and
+stretched himself. And as he did so, something caught his attention out
+of the corner of his eye. It was his cousin Hugo, climbing down from
+the dickey.
+
+"A very nice run," said Hugo with satisfaction. "I should say we made
+pretty good time."
+
+He radiated kindliness and satisfaction with all created things. That
+John was looking at him in rather a peculiar way, and apparently trying
+to say something, he did not seem to notice.
+
+"A little refreshment would be delightful," he observed. "Dusty work,
+sitting in dickeys. By the way, I got on to Pat on the 'phone before
+we left, and there's no need to hurry. She's dining out and going to a
+theatre to-night."
+
+"What!" cried John, in agony.
+
+"It's all right. Don't get the wind up. She's meeting us at
+eleven-fifteen at the Mustard Spoon. I'll come on there from the
+fight and we'll have a nice home evening. I'm still a member, so I'll
+sign you in. And, what's more, if all goes well at the Albert Hall
+and Cyril Warburton is half the man I think he is and I can get some
+sporting stranger to bet the other way at reasonable odds, I'll pay the
+bill."
+
+"You're very kind!"
+
+"I try to be, John," said Hugo modestly. "I try to be. I don't think we
+ought to leave it all to the Boy Scouts."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV
+
+
+                                   I
+
+A man whose uncle jerks him away from London as if he were picking a
+winkle out of its shell with a pin and keeps him for months and months
+immured in the heart of Worcestershire must inevitably lose touch
+with the swiftly-changing kaleidoscope of metropolitan night-life.
+Nothing in a big city fluctuates more rapidly than the status of its
+supper-dancing clubs; and Hugo, had he still been a lad-about-town in
+good standing, would have been aware that recently the Mustard Spoon
+had gone down a good deal in the social scale. Society had migrated to
+other, newer institutions, leaving it to become the haunt of the lesser
+ornaments of the stage and the Portuguese, the Argentines and the
+Greeks.
+
+To John Carroll, however, as he stood waiting in the lobby, the place
+seemed sufficiently gay and glittering. Nearly a year had passed since
+his last visit to London: and the Mustard Spoon rather impressed him.
+An unseen orchestra was playing with extraordinary vigour, and from
+time to time ornate persons of both sexes drifted past him into the
+brightly lighted supper room. Where an established connoisseur of
+night clubs would have pursed his lips and shaken his head, John was
+conscious only of feeling decidedly uplifted and exhilarated.
+
+But then he was going to see Pat again, and that was enough to
+stimulate any man.
+
+She arrived unexpectedly, at a moment when he had taken his eye off the
+door to direct it in mild astonishment at a lady in an orange dress
+who, doubtless with the best motives, had dyed her hair crimson and was
+wearing a black-rimmed monocle. So absorbed was he with this spectacle
+that he did not see her enter, and was only made aware of her presence
+when there spoke from behind him a clear little voice which, even when
+it was laughing at you, always seemed to have in it something of the
+song of larks on summer mornings and winds whispering across the fields
+in spring.
+
+"Hullo, Johnnie."
+
+The hair, scarlet though it was, lost its power to attract. The appeal
+of the monocle waned. John spun round.
+
+"Pat!"
+
+She was looking lovelier than ever. That was the thing that first
+presented itself to John's notice. If anybody had told him that Pat
+could possibly be prettier than the image of her which he had been
+carrying about with him all these months, he would not have believed
+him. But so it was. Some sort of a female with plucked eyebrows and
+a painted face had just come in, and she might have been put there
+expressly for purposes of comparison. She made Pat seem so healthy,
+so wholesome, such a thing of the open air and the clean sunshine,
+so pre-eminently fit. She looked as if she had spent her time at Le
+Touquet playing thirty-six holes of golf a day.
+
+"Pat!" cried John, and something seemed to catch at his throat. There
+was a mist in front of his eyes. His heart was thumping madly.
+
+She extended her hand composedly. In her this meeting after long
+separation had apparently stirred no depths. Her demeanour was
+friendly, but matter-of-fact.
+
+"Well, Johnnie. How nice to see you again. You're looking very brown
+and rural. Where's Hugo?"
+
+It takes two to hoist a conversation to an emotional peak. John choked,
+and became calmer.
+
+"He'll be here soon, I expect," he said.
+
+Pat laughed indulgently.
+
+"Hugo'll be late for his own funeral--if he ever gets to it. He said
+eleven-fifteen and it's twenty-five to twelve. Have you got a table?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I'm not a member," said John, and saw in her eyes the scorn which
+women reserve for male friends and relations who show themselves
+wanting in enterprise. "You have to be a member," he said, chafing
+under the look.
+
+"I don't," said Pat with decision. "If you think I'm going to wait all
+night for old Hugo in a small lobby with six draughts whizzing through
+it, correct that impression. Go and find the head waiter and get a
+table while I leave my cloak. Back in a minute."
+
+John's emotions as he approached the head waiter rather resembled
+those with which years ago he had once walked up to a bull in a field,
+Pat having requested him to do so because she wanted to know if bulls
+in fields really are fierce or if the artists who depict them in
+comic papers are simply trying to be funny. He felt embarrassed and
+diffident. The head waiter was a large, stout, smooth-faced man who
+would have been better for a couple of weeks at Healthward Ho, and he
+gave the impression of having disliked John from the start.
+
+John said it was a nice evening. The head waiter did not seem to
+believe him.
+
+"Has--er--has Mr. Carmody booked a table?" asked John.
+
+"No, monsieur."
+
+"I'm meeting him here to-night."
+
+The head waiter appeared uninterested. He began to talk to an underling
+in rapid French. John, feeling more than ever an intruder, took
+advantage of a lull in the conversation to make another attempt.
+
+"I wonder.... Perhaps.... Can you give me a table?"
+
+Most of the head waiter's eyes were concealed by the upper strata of
+his cheeks, but there was enough of them left visible to allow him to
+look at John as if he were something unpleasant that had come to light
+in a portion of salad.
+
+"Monsieur is a member?"
+
+"Er--no."
+
+"If you will please wait in the lobby, thank you."
+
+"But I was wondering...."
+
+"If you will wait in the lobby, please," said the head waiter, and,
+dismissing John from the scheme of things, became gruesomely obsequious
+to an elderly man with diamond studs, no hair, an authoritative
+manner, and a lady in pink. He waddled before them into the supper
+room, and Pat reappeared.
+
+"Got that table?"
+
+"I'm afraid not. He says...."
+
+"Oh, Johnnie, you are maddening. Why are you so helpless?"
+
+Women are unjust in these matters. When a man comes into a night club
+of which he is not a member and asks for a table he feels that he is
+butting in, and naturally is not at his best. This is not helplessness,
+it is fineness of soul. But women won't see that.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry."
+
+The head waiter had returned, and was either doing sums or drawing
+caricatures on a large pad chained to a desk. He seemed so much the
+artist absorbed in his work that John would not have dreamed of
+venturing to interrupt him. Pat had no such delicacy.
+
+"I want a table, please," said Pat.
+
+"Madame is a member?"
+
+"A table, please. A nice, large one. I like plenty of room. And when
+Mr. Carmody arrives tell him that Miss Wyvern and Mr. Carroll are
+inside."
+
+"Very good, madame. Certainly, madame. This way, madame."
+
+Just as simple as that! John, making a physically impressive but
+spiritually negligible tail to the procession, wondered, as he crossed
+the polished floor, how Pat did these things. It was not as if she
+were one of those massive, imperious women whom you would naturally
+expect to quell head waiters with a glance. She was no Cleopatra, no
+Catherine of Russia--just a slim, slight girl with a tip-tilted nose.
+And yet she had taken this formidable magnifico in her stride, kicked
+him lightly in the face, and passed on. He sat down, thrilled with a
+worshipping admiration.
+
+Pat, as always happened after one of her little spurts of irritability,
+was apologetic.
+
+"Sorry I bit your head off, Johnnie," she said. "It was a shame, after
+you had come all this way just to see an old friend. But it makes me so
+angry when you're meek and sheep-y and let people trample on you. Still
+I suppose it's not your fault." She smiled across at him. "You always
+were a slow, good-natured old thing, weren't you, like one of those big
+dogs that come and bump their head on your lap and snuffle. Poor old
+Johnnie!"
+
+John felt depressed. The picture she had conjured up was not a
+flattering one; and, as for this "Poor Old Johnnie!" stuff, it struck
+just the note he most wanted to avoid. If one thing is certain in the
+relations of the sexes, it is that the Poor Old Johnnies of this world
+get nowhere. But before he could put any of these feelings into words
+Pat had changed the subject.
+
+"Johnnie," she said, "what's all this trouble between your uncle and
+Father? I had a letter from Father a couple of weeks ago, and as far as
+I could make out Mr. Carmody seems to have been trying to murder him.
+What's it all about?"
+
+Not so eloquently, nor with such a wealth of imagery as Colonel Wyvern
+had employed in sketching out the details of the affair of the dynamite
+outrage for the benefit of Chas. Bywater, Chemist, John answered the
+question.
+
+"Good heavens!" said Pat.
+
+"I--I hope...." said John.
+
+"What do you hope?"
+
+"Well, I--I hope it's not going to make any difference?"
+
+"Difference? How do you mean?"
+
+"Between us. Between you and me, Pat."
+
+"What sort of difference?"
+
+John had his cue.
+
+"Pat, darling, in all these years we've known one another haven't you
+ever guessed that I've been falling more and more in love with you
+every minute? I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. I loved
+you as a kid in short skirts and a blue jersey. I loved you when you
+came back from that school of yours, looking like a princess. And
+I love you now more than I have ever loved you. I worship you, Pat
+darling. You're the whole world to me, just the one thing that matters
+the least little bit. And don't you try to start laughing at me again
+now, because I've made up my mind that, whatever else you laugh at,
+you've got to take me seriously. I may have been Poor Old Johnnie in
+the past, but the time has come when you've got to forget all that. I
+mean business. You're going to marry me, and the sooner you make up
+your mind to it, the better."
+
+That was what John had intended to say. What he actually did say was
+something briefer and altogether less effective.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said John.
+
+"Do you mean you're afraid I'm going to stop being friends with you
+just because my father and your uncle have had a quarrel?"
+
+"Yes," said John. It was not quite all he had meant, but it gave the
+general idea.
+
+"What a weird notion! After all these years? Good heavens, no. I'm much
+too fond of you, Johnnie."
+
+Once more John had his cue. And this time he was determined that he
+would not neglect it. He stiffened his courage. He cleared his throat.
+He clutched the tablecloth.
+
+"Pat...."
+
+"Oh, there's Hugo at last," she said, looking past him. "And about
+time. I'm starving. Hullo! Who are the people he's got with him? Do you
+know them?"
+
+John heaved a silent sigh. Yes, he could have counted on Hugo arriving
+at just this moment. He turned, and perceived that unnecessary young
+man crossing the floor. With him were a middle-aged man and a younger
+and extremely dashing-looking girl. They were complete strangers to
+John.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Hugo pranced buoyantly up to the table, looking like the Laughing
+Cavalier, clean-shaved.
+
+He was wearing the unmistakable air of a man who has been to a
+welter-weight boxing contest at the Albert Hall and backed the winner.
+
+"Hullo, Pat," he said jovially. "Hullo, John. Sorry I'm late. Mitt--if
+that is the word I want--my dear old friend ... I've forgotten your
+name," he added, turning to his companion.
+
+"Molloy, brother. Thomas G. Molloy."
+
+Hugo's dear old friend spoke in a deep, rich voice, well in keeping
+with his appearance. He was a fine, handsome, open-faced person in the
+early forties, with grizzled hair that swept in a wave off a massive
+forehead. His nationality was plainly American, and his aspect vaguely
+senatorial.
+
+"Molloy," said Hugo, "Thomas G. and daughter. This is Miss Wyvern. And
+this is my cousin, Mr. Carroll. And now," said Hugo, relieved at having
+finished with the introductions, "let's try to get a bit of supper."
+
+The service at the Mustard Spoon is not what it was; but by the
+simple process of clutching at the coat tails of a passing waiter and
+holding him till he consented to talk business Hugo contrived to get
+fairly rapid action. Then, after an interval of the rather difficult
+conversation which usually marks the first stages of this sort of
+party, the orchestra burst into a sudden torrent of what it evidently
+mistook for music and Thomas G. Molloy rose and led Miss Molloy out on
+to the floor. He danced a little stiffly, but he knew how to give the
+elbow and he appeared, as the crowd engulfed him, to be holding his own.
+
+"Who are your friends, Hugo?" asked Pat.
+
+"Thos. G...."
+
+"Yes, I know. But who are they?"
+
+"Well, there," said Hugo, "you rather have me. I sat next to Thos. at
+the fight, and I rather took to the fellow. He seemed to me a man full
+of noble qualities, including a looney idea that Eustace Rodd was some
+good as a boxer. He actually offered to give me three to one, and I
+cleaned up substantially at the end of the seventh round. After that, I
+naturally couldn't very well get out of giving the man supper. And as
+he had promised to take his daughter out to-night, I said bring her
+along. You don't mind?"
+
+"Of course not. Though it would have been cosier, just we three."
+
+"Quite true. But never forget that, if it had not been for this Thos.,
+you would not be getting the jolly good supper which I have now ample
+funds to supply. You may look on Thos. as practically the Founder of
+the Feast." He cast a wary eye at his cousin, who was leaning back in
+his chair with the abstracted look of one in deep thought. "Has old
+John said anything to you yet?"
+
+"John? What do you mean? What about?"
+
+"Oh, things in general. Come and dance this. I want to have a very
+earnest word with you, young Pat. Big things are in the wind."
+
+"You're very mysterious."
+
+"Ah!" said Hugo.
+
+Left alone at the table with nothing to entertain him but his
+thoughts, John came almost immediately to the conclusion that his
+first verdict on the Mustard Spoon had been an erroneous one. Looking
+at it superficially, he had mistaken it for rather an attractive
+place: but now, with maturer judgment, he saw it for what it was--a
+blot on a great city. It was places like the Mustard Spoon that made
+a man despair of progress. He disliked the clientèle. He disliked the
+head waiter. He disliked the orchestra. The clientèle was flashy and
+offensive and, as regarded the male element of it, far too given to the
+use of hair oil. The head waiter was a fat parasite who needed kicking.
+And, as for Ben Baermann's Collegiate Buddies, he resented the fact
+that they were being paid for making the sort of noises which he,
+when a small boy, had produced--for fun and with no thought of sordid
+gain--on a comb with a bit of tissue paper over it.
+
+He was brooding on the scene in much the same spirit of captious
+criticism as that in which Lot had once regarded the Cities of the
+Plain, when the Collegiate Buddies suddenly suspended their cacophony,
+and he saw Pat and Hugo coming back to the table.
+
+But the Buddies had only been crouching, the better to spring. A moment
+later they were at it again, and Pat, pausing, looked expectantly at
+Hugo.
+
+Hugo shook his head.
+
+"I've just seen Ronnie Fish up in the balcony," he said. "I positively
+must go and confer with him. I have urgent matters to discuss with the
+old leper. Sit down and talk to John. You've got lots to talk about.
+See you anon. And, if there's anything you want, order it, paying no
+attention whatever to the prices in the right-hand column. Thanks to
+Thos., I'm made of money to-night."
+
+Hugo melted away: Pat sat down: and John, with another abrupt change
+of mood, decided that he had misjudged the Mustard Spoon. A very
+jolly little place, when you looked at it in the proper spirit. Nice
+people, a distinctly lovable head waiter, and as attractive a lot of
+musicians as he remembered ever to have seen. He turned to Pat, to seek
+her confirmation of these views, and, meeting her gaze, experienced a
+rather severe shock. Her eyes seemed to have frozen over. They were
+cold and hard. Taken in conjunction with the fact that her nose turned
+up a little at the end, they gave her face a scornful and contemptuous
+look.
+
+"Hullo!" he said, alarmed. "What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Why are you looking like that?"
+
+"Like what?"
+
+"Well...."
+
+John had little ability as a word painter. He could not on the spur of
+the moment give anything in the nature of detailed description of the
+way Pat was looking. He only knew he did not like it.
+
+"I suppose you expected me to look at you 'with eyes overrunning with
+laughter'?"
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"'Archly the maiden smiled, and with eyes overrunning with laughter
+said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"'"
+
+"I don't know what you're talking about."
+
+"Don't you know _The Courtship of Miles Standish_? I thought that
+must have been where you got the idea. I had to learn chunks of it at
+school, and even at that tender age I always thought Miles Standish a
+perfect goop. 'If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed
+me, Why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me? If I
+am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning.' And yards
+more of it. I knew it by heart once. Well, what I want to know is, do
+you expect my answer direct, or would you prefer that I communicated
+with your agent?"
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Don't you? No? Really?"
+
+"Pat, what's the matter?"
+
+"Oh, nothing much. When we were dancing just now, Hugo proposed to me."
+
+A cold hand clutched at John's heart. He had not a high opinion of his
+cousin's fascinations, but the thought of anybody but himself proposing
+to Pat was a revolting one.
+
+"Oh, did he?'
+
+"Yes, he did. For you."
+
+"For me? How do you mean, for me?"
+
+"I'm telling you. He asked me to marry you. And very eloquent he was,
+too. All the people who heard him--and there must have been dozens who
+did--were much impressed."
+
+She stopped: and, as far as such a thing is possible at the Mustard
+Spoon when Baermann's Collegiate Buddies are giving an encore of "My
+Sweetie Is A Wow," there was silence. Emotion of one sort or another
+had deprived Pat of words: and, as for John, he was feeling as if he
+could never speak again.
+
+He had flushed a dusky red, and his collar had suddenly become so tight
+that he had all the sensations of a man who is being garrotted. And so
+powerfully had the shock of this fearful revelation affected his mind
+that his only coherent thought was a desire to follow Hugo up to the
+balcony, tear him limb from limb, and scatter the fragments onto the
+tables below.
+
+Pat was the first to find speech. She spoke quickly, stormily.
+
+"I can't understand you, Johnnie. You never used to be such a
+jellyfish. You did have a mind of your own once. But now ... I believe
+it's living at Rudge all the time that has done it. You've got lazy
+and flabby. It's turned you into a vegetable. You just loaf about and
+go on and on, year after year, having your three fat meals a day and
+your comfortable rooms and your hot-water bottle at night...."
+
+"I don't!" cried John, stung by this monstrous charge from the coma
+which was gripping him.
+
+"Well, bed socks, then," amended Pat. "You've just let yourself be
+cosseted and pampered and kept in comfort till the You that used to be
+there has withered away and you've gone blah. My dear, good Johnnie,"
+said Pat vehemently, riding over his attempt at speech and glaring at
+him above a small, perky nose whose tip had begun to quiver even as it
+had always done when she lost her temper as a child. "My poor, idiotic,
+flabby, fat-headed Johnnie, do you seriously expect a girl to want to
+marry a man who hasn't the common, elementary pluck to propose to her
+for himself and has to get someone else to do it for him?"
+
+"I didn't!"
+
+"You did."
+
+"I tell you I did not."
+
+"You mean you never asked Hugo to sound me out?"
+
+"Of course not. Hugo is a meddling, officious idiot, and if I'd got him
+here now, I'd wring his neck."
+
+He scowled up at the balcony. Hugo, who happened to be looking down at
+the moment, beamed encouragingly and waved a friendly hand as if to
+assure his cousin that he was with him in spirit. Silence, tempered
+by the low wailing of the Buddy in charge of the saxophone and the
+unpleasant howling of his college friends, who had just begun to sing
+the chorus, fell once more.
+
+"This opens up a new line of thought," said Pat at length. "Our Miss
+Wyvern appears to have got the wires crossed," she looked at him
+meditatively. "It's funny. Hugo seemed so convinced about the way you
+felt."
+
+John's collar tightened up another half inch, but he managed to get his
+vocal chords working.
+
+"He was quite right about the way I felt."
+
+"You mean.... Really?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You mean you're ... fond of me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But, Johnnie!"
+
+"Damn it, are you blind?" cried John, savage from shame and the agony
+of harrowed feelings, not to mention a collar which appeared to have
+been made for a man half his size. "Can't you see? Don't you know I've
+always loved you? Yes, even when you were a kid."
+
+"But, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" Distress was making Pat's silver
+voice almost squeaky. "You can't have done. I was a horrible kid. I did
+nothing but bully you from morning till night."
+
+"I liked it."
+
+"But how can you want me to marry you? We know each other too well.
+I've always looked on you as a sort of brother."
+
+There are words in the language which are like a knell. Keats
+considered "forlorn" one of them. John Carroll was of opinion that
+"brother" was a second.
+
+"Oh, I know. I was a fool. I knew you would simply laugh at me."
+
+Pat's eyes were misty. The tip of her nose no longer quivered, but now
+it was her mouth that did so. She reached out across the table and her
+hand rested on his for a brief instant.
+
+"I'm not laughing at you, Johnnie, you--you chump. What would I want to
+laugh at you for? I'm much nearer crying. I'd do anything in the world
+rather than hurt you. You must know that. You're the dearest old thing
+that ever lived. There's no one on earth I'm fonder of." She paused.
+"But this ... it--it simply isn't on the board."
+
+She was looking at him, furtively, taking advantage of the fact
+that his face was turned away and his eyes fixed on the broad,
+swallow-tailed back of Mr. Ben Baermann. It was odd, she felt, all very
+odd. If she had been asked to describe the sort of man whom one of
+these days she hoped to marry, the description, curiously enough, would
+not have been at all unlike dear old Johnnie. He had the right clean,
+fit look--she knew she could never give a thought to anything but an
+outdoor man--and the straightness and honesty and kindliness which she
+had come, after moving for some years in a world where they were rare,
+to look upon as the highest of masculine qualities. Nobody could have
+been farther than John from the little, black-moustached dancing-man
+type which was her particular aversion, and yet ... well, the idea of
+becoming his wife was just simply too absurd and that was all there was
+to it.
+
+But why? What, then, was wrong with Johnnie? Simply, she felt, the
+fact that he was Johnnie. Marriage, as she had always envisaged it,
+was an adventure. Poor cosy, solid old Johnnie would have to display
+quite another side of himself, if such a side existed, before she could
+regard it as an adventure to marry him.
+
+"That man," said John, indicating Mr. Baermann, "looks like a Jewish
+black beetle."
+
+Pat was relieved. If by this remark he was indicating that he wished
+the recent episode to be taken as concluded, she was very willing to
+oblige him.
+
+"Doesn't he?" she said. "I don't know where they can have dug him up
+from. The last time I was here, a year ago, they had another band, a
+much better one. I think this place has gone down. I don't like the
+look of some of these people. What do you think of Hugo's friends?"
+
+"They seem all right." John cast a moody eye at Miss Molloy, a
+prismatic vision seen fitfully through the crowd. She was laughing, and
+showing in the process teeth of a flashing whiteness. "The girl's the
+prettiest girl I've seen for a long time."
+
+Pat gave an imperceptible start. She was suddenly aware of a feeling
+which was remarkably like uneasiness. It lurked at the back of her
+consciousness like a small formless cloud.
+
+"Oh!" she said.
+
+Yes, the feeling was uneasiness. Any other man who at such a moment had
+said those words she would have suspected of a desire to pique her, to
+stir her interest by a rather obviously assumed admiration of another.
+But not John. He was much too honest. If Johnnie said a thing, he meant
+it.
+
+A quick flicker of concern passed through Pat. She was always candid
+with herself, and she knew quite well that, though she did not want
+to marry him, she regarded John as essentially a piece of personal
+property. If he had fallen in love with her, that was, of course, a
+pity: but it would, she realized, be considerably more of a pity if he
+ever fell in love with someone else. A Johnnie gone out of her life and
+assimilated into that of another girl would leave a frightful gap. The
+Mustard Spoon was one of those stuffy, overheated places, but, as she
+meditated upon this possibility, Pat shivered.
+
+"Oh!" she said.
+
+The music stopped. The floor emptied. Mr. Molloy and his daughter
+returned to the table. Hugo remained up in the gallery, in earnest
+conversation with his old friend, Mr. Fish.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+Ronald Overbury Fish was a pink-faced young man of small stature and
+extraordinary solemnity. He had been at school with Hugo and also at
+the university. Eton was entitled to point with pride at both of them,
+and only had itself to blame if it failed to do so. The same remark
+applies to Trinity College, Cambridge. From earliest days Hugo had
+always entertained for R. O. Fish an intense and lively admiration,
+and the thought of being compelled to let his old friend down in this
+matter of the Hot Spot was doing much to mar an otherwise jovial
+evening.
+
+"I'm most frightfully sorry, Ronnie, old thing," he said immediately
+the first greetings were over. "I sounded the aged relative this
+afternoon about that business, and there's nothing doing."
+
+"No hope?"
+
+"None."
+
+Ronnie Fish surveyed the dancers below with a grave eye. He removed the
+stub of his cigarette from its eleven-inch holder, and recharged that
+impressive instrument.
+
+"Did you reason with the old pest?"
+
+"You can't reason with my uncle Lester."
+
+"I could," said Mr. Fish.
+
+Hugo did not doubt this. Ronnie, in his opinion, was capable of any
+feat.
+
+"Yes, but the only trouble is," he explained, "you would have to do it
+at long range. I asked if I might invite you down to Rudge and he would
+have none of it."
+
+Ronnie Fish relapsed into silence. It seemed to Hugo, watching him,
+that that great brain was busy, but upon what train of thought he could
+not conjecture.
+
+"Who are those people you're with?" he asked at length.
+
+"The big chap with the fair hair is my cousin John. The girl in green
+is Pat Wyvern. She lives near us."
+
+"And the others? Who's the stately looking bird with the brushed-back
+hair who has every appearance of being just about to address a
+gathering of constituents on some important point of policy?"
+
+"That's a fellow named Molloy. Thos. G. I met him at the fight. He's an
+American."
+
+"He looks prosperous."
+
+"He is not so prosperous, though, as he was before the fight started. I
+took thirty quid off him."
+
+"Your uncle, from what you have told me, is pretty keen on rich men,
+isn't he?"
+
+"All over them."
+
+"Then the thing's simple," said Ronnie Fish. "Invite this Mulcahy or
+whatever his name is to Rudge, and invite me at the same time. You'll
+find that in the ecstasy of getting a millionaire on the premises your
+uncle will forget to make a fuss about my coming. And once I am in I
+can talk this business over with him. I'll guarantee that if I can get
+an uninterrupted half hour with the old boy I can easily make him see
+the light."
+
+A rush of admiration for his friend's outstanding brain held Hugo
+silent for a moment. The bold simplicity of the move thrilled him.
+
+"What it amounts to," continued Ronnie Fish, "is that your uncle is
+endeavouring to do you out of a vast fortune. I tell you, the Hot Spot
+is going to be a gold mine. To all practical intents and purposes he is
+just as good as trying to take thousands of pounds out of your pocket.
+I shall point this out to him, and I shall be surprised if I can't put
+the thing through. When would you like me to come down?"
+
+"Ronnie," said Hugo, "this is absolute genius." He hesitated. He
+had no wish to discourage his friend, but he desired to be fair and
+above-board. "There's just one thing. Would you have any objection to
+performing at the village concert?"
+
+"I should enjoy it."
+
+"They're sure to rope you in. I thought you and I might do the Quarrel
+Scene from _Julius Cæsar_ again."
+
+"Excellent."
+
+"And this time," said Hugo generously, "you can be Brutus."
+
+"No, no," said Ronnie, moved.
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"Very well. Then fix things up with this American bloke, and leave the
+rest to me. Shall I like your uncle?"
+
+"No," said Hugo confidently.
+
+"Ah well," said Mr. Fish equably, "I don't for a moment suppose he'll
+like me."
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+The respite afforded to their patrons' ear drums by the sudden
+cessation of activity on the part of the Buddies proved of brief
+duration. Men like these ex-collegians, who have really got the
+saxophone virus into their systems, seldom have long lucid intervals
+between the attacks. Very soon they were at it again, and Mr. Molloy,
+rising, led Pat gallantly out onto the floor. His daughter, following
+them with a bright eye as she busied herself with a lip stick, laughed
+amusedly.
+
+"She little knows!"
+
+John, like Pat a short while before, had fallen into a train of
+thought. From this he now woke with a start to the realization that he
+was alone with this girl and presumably expected by her to make some
+effort at being entertaining.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" he said.
+
+Even had he been less preoccupied, he would have found small pleasure
+in this tête-à-tête. Miss Molloy--her father addressed her as
+Dolly--belonged to the type of girl in whose society a diffident man
+is seldom completely at ease. There hung about her like an aura a sort
+of hard glitter. Her challenging eyes were of a bright hazel--beautiful
+but intimidating. She looked supremely sure of herself.
+
+"I was saying," she explained, "that your Girl Friend little knows what
+she has taken on, going out to step with Soapy."
+
+"Soapy?"
+
+It seemed to John that his companion had momentarily the appearance of
+being a little confused.
+
+"My father, I mean," she said quickly. "I call him Soapy."
+
+"Oh?" said John. He supposed the practice of calling a father by a
+nickname in preference to the more old-fashioned style of address was
+the latest fad of the Modern Girl.
+
+"Soapy," said Miss Molloy, developing her theme, "is full of Sex
+Appeal, but he has two left feet." She emitted another little gurgle of
+laughter. "There! Would you just look at him now!"
+
+John was sorry to appear dull, but, eyeing Mr. Molloy as requested, he
+could not see that he was doing anything wrong. On the contrary, for
+one past his first youth, the man seemed to him enviably efficient.
+
+"I'm afraid I don't know anything about dancing," he said
+apologetically.
+
+"At that, you're ahead of Soapy. He doesn't even suspect anything.
+Whenever I get into the ring with him and come out alive I reckon I've
+broke even. It isn't so much his dancing on my feet that I mind--it's
+the way he jumps on and off that slays me. Don't you ever hoof?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Sometimes. A little."
+
+"Well, come and do your stuff, then. I can't sit still while they're
+playing that thing."
+
+John rose reluctantly. Their brief conversation had made it clear to
+him that in the matter of dancing this was a girl of high ideals, and
+he feared he was about to disappoint her. If she regarded with derision
+a quite adequate performer like Mr. Molloy, she was obviously no
+partner for himself. But there was no means of avoiding the ordeal. He
+backed her out into mid-stream, hoping for the best.
+
+Providence was in a kindly mood. By now the floor had become so
+congested that skill was at a discount. Even the sallow youths with
+the marcelled hair and the india-rubber legs were finding little scope
+to do anything but shuffle. This suited John's individual style. He,
+too, shuffled: and, playing for safety, found that he was getting along
+better than he could have expected. His tension relaxed, and he became
+conversational.
+
+"Do you often come to this place?" he asked, resting his partner
+against the slim back of one of the marcelled-hair brigade who, like
+himself, had been held up in the traffic block.
+
+"I've never been here before. And it'll be a long time before I come
+again. A more gosh-awful aggregation of yells for help, than this gang
+of whippets," said Miss Molloy, surveying the company with a critical
+eye, "I've never seen. Look at that dame with the eyeglass."
+
+"Rather weird," agreed John.
+
+"A cry for succour," said Miss Molloy severely. "And why, when you can
+buy insecticide at any drug store, people let these boys with the shiny
+hair go around loose beats me."
+
+John began to warm to this girl. At first, he had feared that he and
+she could have little in common. But this remark told him that on
+certain subjects, at any rate, they saw eye to eye. He, too, had felt
+an idle wonder that somebody did not do something about these youths.
+
+The Buddies had stopped playing: and John, glowing with the strange
+new spirit of confidence which had come to him, clapped loudly for an
+encore.
+
+But the Buddies were not responsive. Hitherto, a mere tapping of the
+palms had been enough to urge them to renewed epileptic spasms; but now
+an odd lethargy seemed to be upon them, as if they had been taking some
+kind of treatment for their complaint. They were sitting, instruments
+in hand, gazing in a spellbound manner at a square-jawed person in
+ill-fitting dress clothes who had appeared at the side of Mr. Baermann.
+And the next moment, there shattered the stillness a sudden voice that
+breathed Vine Street in every syllable.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice, proceeding, as nearly as John
+could ascertain, from close to the main entrance, "will you kindly take
+your seats."
+
+"Pinched!" breathed Miss Molloy in his ear. "Couldn't you have betted
+on it!"
+
+Her diagnosis was plainly correct. In response to the request, most of
+those on the floor had returned to their tables, moving with the dull
+resignation of people to whom this sort of thing has happened before:
+and, enjoying now a wider range of vision, John was able to see that
+the room had become magically filled with replicas of the sturdy figure
+standing beside Mr. Baermann. They were moving about among the tables,
+examining with an offensive interest the bottles that stood thereon and
+jotting down epigrams on the subject in little notebooks. Time flies
+on swift wings in a haunt of pleasure like the Mustard Spoon, and it
+was evident that the management, having forgotten to look at its watch,
+had committed the amiable error of serving alcoholic refreshments after
+prohibited hours.
+
+"I might have known," said Miss Molloy querulously, "that something of
+the sort was bound to break loose in a dump like this."
+
+John, like all dwellers in the country as opposed to the wicked
+inhabitants of cities, was a law-abiding man. Left to himself, he would
+have followed the crowd and made for his table, there to give his name
+and address in the sheepish undertone customary on these occasions. But
+he was not left to himself. A moment later it had become plain that the
+dashing exterior of Miss Molloy was a true index to the soul within.
+She grasped his arm and pulled him commandingly.
+
+"Snap into it!" said Miss Molloy.
+
+The "it" into which she desired him to snap was apparently a small
+door that led to the club's service quarters. It was the one strategic
+point not yet guarded by a stocky figure with large feet and an eye
+like a gimlet. To it his companion went like a homing rabbit, dragging
+him with her. They passed through; and John, with a resourcefulness of
+which he was surprised to find himself capable, turned the key in the
+lock.
+
+"Smooth!" said Miss Molloy approvingly. "Nice work! That'll hold them
+for a while."
+
+It did. From the other side of the door there proceeded a confused
+shouting, and somebody twisted the handle with a good deal of
+petulance, but the Law had apparently forgotten to bring its axe with
+it to-night, and nothing further occurred. They made their way down a
+stuffy passage, came presently to a second door, and, passing through
+this, found themselves in a backyard, fragrant with the scent of old
+cabbage stalks and dish water.
+
+Miss Molloy listened. John listened. They could hear nothing but a
+distant squealing and tooting of horns, which, though it sounded like
+something out of the repertoire of the Collegiate Buddies, was in
+reality the noise of the traffic in Regent Street.
+
+"All quiet along the Potomac," said Miss Molloy with satisfaction.
+"Now," she added briskly, "if you'll just fetch one of those ash cans
+and put it alongside that wall and give me a leg-up and help me round
+that chimney and across that roof and down into the next yard and over
+another wall or two, I think everything will be more or less jake."
+
+
+                                   V
+
+John sat in the lobby of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street. A lifetime
+of activity and dizzy hustle had passed, but it had all been crammed
+into just under twenty minutes, and, after seeing his fair companion
+off in a taxicab, he had made his way to the Lincoln, to ascertain from
+a sleepy night porter that Miss Wyvern had not yet returned. He was now
+awaiting her coming.
+
+She came some little while later, escorted by Hugo. It was a fair
+summer night, warm and still, but with her arrival a keen east wind
+seemed to pervade the lobby. Pat was looking pale and proud, and Hugo's
+usually effervescent demeanour had become toned down to a sort of
+mellow sadness. He had the appearance of a man who has recently been
+properly ticked off by a woman for Taking Me to Places Like That.
+
+"Oh, hullo, John," he murmured in a low, bedside voice. He brightened
+a little, as a man will who, after a bad quarter of an hour with an
+emotional girl, sees somebody who may possibly furnish an alternative
+target for her wrath. "Where did you get to? Left early to avoid the
+rush?"
+
+"It was this way ..." began John. But Pat had turned to the desk, and
+was asking the porter for her key. If a female martyr in the rougher
+days of the Roman Empire had had occasion to ask for a key, she would
+have done it in just the voice which Pat employed. It was not a loud
+voice, nor an angry one,--just the crushed, tortured voice of a girl
+who has lost her faith in the essential goodness of humanity.
+
+"You see ..." said John.
+
+"Are there any letters for me?" asked Pat.
+
+"No, no letters," said the night porter; and the unhappy girl gave a
+little sigh, as if that was just what might be expected in a world
+where men who had known you all your life took you to Places which
+they ought to have Seen from the start were just Drinking-Hells, while
+other men, who also had known you all your life, and, what was more,
+professed to love you, skipped through doors in the company of flashy
+women and left you to be treated by the police as if you were a common
+criminal.
+
+"What happened," said John, "was this...."
+
+"Good night," said Pat.
+
+She followed the porter to the lift, and Hugo, producing a
+handkerchief, dabbed it lightly over his forehead.
+
+"Dirty weather, shipmate!" said Hugo. "A very deep depression off the
+coast of Iceland, laddie."
+
+He placed a restraining hand on John's arm, as the latter made a
+movement to follow the Snow Queen.
+
+"No good, John," he said gravely. "No good, old man, not the slightest.
+Don't waste your time trying to explain to-night. Hell hath no fury
+like a woman scorned, and not many like a girl who's just had to give
+her name and address in a raided night club to a plain-clothes cop who
+asked her to repeat it twice and then didn't seem to believe her."
+
+"But I want to tell her why...."
+
+"Never tell them why. It's no use. Let us talk of pleasanter things.
+John, I have brought off the coup of a lifetime. Not that it was my
+idea. It was Ronnie Fish who suggested it. There's a fellow with a
+brain, John. There's a lad who busts the seams of any hat that isn't a
+number eight."
+
+"What are you talking about?"
+
+"I'm talking about this amazingly intelligent idea of old Ronnie's.
+It's absolutely necessary that by some means Uncle Lester shall be
+persuaded to cough up five hundred quid of my capital to enable me to
+go into a venture second in solidity only to the Mint. The one person
+who can talk him into it is Ronnie. So Ronnie's coming to Rudge."
+
+"Oh?" said John, uninterested.
+
+"And to prevent Uncle Lester making a fuss about this, I've invited old
+man Molloy and daughter to come and visit us as well. That was Ronnie's
+big idea. Thos. is rolling in money, and, once Uncle Lester learns
+that, he won't kick about Ronnie being there. He loves having rich men
+around. He likes to nuzzle them."
+
+"Do you mean," cried John, "that that girl is coming to stay at Rudge?"
+
+He was appalled. Limpidly clear though his conscience was, he was able
+to see that his rather spectacular association with Miss Dolly Molloy
+had displeased Pat, and the last thing he wished for was to be placed
+in a position which was virtually tantamount to hobnobbing with the
+girl. If she came to stay at Rudge, Pat might think.... What might not
+Pat think?
+
+He became aware that Hugo was speaking to him in a quiet, brotherly
+voice.
+
+"How did all that come out, John?"
+
+"All what?"
+
+"About Pat. Did she tell you that I paved the way?"
+
+"She did! And look here...."
+
+"All right, old man," said Hugo, raising a deprecatory hand. "That's
+absolutely all right. I don't want any thanks. You'd have done the same
+for me. Well, what has happened? Everything pretty satisfactory?"
+
+"Satisfactory!"
+
+"Don't tell me she turned you down?"
+
+"If you really want to know, yes, she did."
+
+Hugo sighed.
+
+"I feared as much. There was something about her manner when I was
+paving the way that I didn't quite like. Cold. Not responsive. A
+bit glassy-eyed. What an amazing thing it is," said Hugo, tapping a
+philosophical vein, "that in spite of all the ways there are of saying
+Yes, a girl on an occasion like this nearly always says No. An American
+statistician has estimated that, omitting substitutes like 'All right,'
+'You bet,' 'O.K.,' and nasal expressions like 'Uh-huh,' the English
+language provides nearly fifty different methods of replying in the
+affirmative, including Yeah, Yeth, Yum, Yo, Yaw, Chess, Chass, Chuss,
+Yip, Yep, Yop, Yup, Yurp...."
+
+"Stop it!" cried John forcefully.
+
+Hugo patted him affectionately on the shoulder.
+
+"All right, John. All right, old man. I quite understand. You're upset.
+A little on edge, yes? Of course you are. But listen, John, I want to
+talk to you very seriously for a moment, in a broad-minded spirit of
+cousinly good will. If I were you, laddie, I would take myself firmly
+in hand at this juncture. You must see for yourself by now that you're
+simply wasting your time fooling about after dear old Pat. A sweet
+girl, I grant you--one of the best: but if she won't have you she
+won't, and that's that. Isn't it or is it? Take my tip and wash the
+whole thing out and start looking round for someone else. Now, there's
+Miss Molloy, for instance. Pretty. Pots of money. If I were you, while
+she's at Rudge, I'd have a decided pop at her. You see, you're one of
+those fellows that Nature intended for a married man right from the
+start. You're a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap that likes
+to roll the garden lawn and then put on his slippers and light a pipe
+and sit side by side with the little woman, sharing a twin set of head
+phones. Pull up your socks, John, and have a dash at this Molloy girl.
+You'd be on velvet with a rich wife."
+
+At several points during this harangue John had endeavoured to speak,
+and he was just about to do so now, when there occurred that which
+rendered speech impossible. From immediately behind them, as they stood
+facing the door, a voice spoke.
+
+"I want my bag, Hugo."
+
+It was Pat. She was standing within a yard of them. Her face was still
+that of a martyr, but now she seemed to suggest by her expression a
+martyr whose tormentors have suddenly thought up something new.
+
+"You've got my bag," she said.
+
+"Oh, ah," said Hugo.
+
+He handed over the beaded trifle, and she took it with a cold
+aloofness. There was a pause.
+
+"Well, good night," said Hugo.
+
+"Good night," said Pat.
+
+"Good night," said John.
+
+"Good night," said Pat.
+
+She turned away, and the lift bore her aloft. Its machinery badly
+needed a drop of oil, and it emitted, as it went, a low wailing sound
+that seemed to John like a commentary on the whole situation.
+
+
+                                  VI
+
+Some half a mile from Curzon Street, on the fringe of the Soho
+district, there stands a smaller and humbler hotel named the Belvidere.
+In a bedroom on the second floor of this, at about the moment when Pat
+and Hugo had entered the lobby of the Lincoln, Dolly Molloy sat before
+a mirror, cold-creaming her attractive face. She was interrupted in
+this task by the arrival of the senatorial Thomas G.
+
+"Hello, sweetie-pie," said Miss Molloy. "There you are."
+
+"Yes," replied Mr. Molloy. "Here I am."
+
+Although his demeanour lacked the high tragedy which had made strong
+men quail in the presence of Pat Wyvern, this man was plainly ruffled.
+His fine features were overcast and his frank gray eyes looked sombre.
+
+"Gee! If there's one thing in this world I hate," he said, "it's having
+to talk to policemen."
+
+"What happened?"
+
+"Oh, I gave my name and address. _A_ name and address, that is to say.
+But I haven't got over yet the jar it gave me seeing so many cops all
+gathered together in a small room. And that's not all," went on Mr.
+Molloy, ventilating another grievance. "Why did you make me tell those
+folks you were my daughter?"
+
+"Well, sweetie, it sort of cramps my style, having people know we're
+married."
+
+"What do you mean, cramps your style?"
+
+"Oh, just cramps my style."
+
+"But, darn it," complained Mr. Molloy, going to the heart of the
+matter, "it makes me out so old, folks thinking I'm your father." The
+rather pronounced gap in years between himself and his young bride was
+a subject on which Soapy Molloy was always inclined to be sensitive.
+"I'm only forty-two."
+
+"And you don't seem that, not till you look at you close," said Dolly
+with womanly tact. "The whole thing is, sweetie, being so dignified,
+you can call yourself anybody's father and get away with it."
+
+Mr. Molloy, somewhat soothed, examined himself, not without approval,
+in the mirror.
+
+"I do look dignified," he admitted.
+
+"Like a professor or something."
+
+"That isn't a bald spot coming there, is it?"
+
+"Sure it's not. It's just the way the light falls."
+
+Mr. Molloy resumed his examination with growing content.
+
+"Yes," he said complacently, "that's a face which for business purposes
+is a face. I may not be the World's Sweetheart, but nobody can say I
+haven't got a map that inspires confidence. I suppose I've sold more
+bum oil stock to suckers with it than anyone in the profession. And
+that reminds me, honey, what do you think?"
+
+"What?" asked Mrs. Molloy, removing cream with a towel.
+
+"We're sitting in the biggest kind of luck. You know how I've been
+wanting all this time to get hold of a really good prospect--some guy
+with money to spend who might be interested in a little oil deal?
+Well, that Carmody fellow we met to-night has invited us to go and
+visit at his country home."
+
+"You don't say!"
+
+"I do say!"
+
+"Well, isn't that the greatest thing. Is he rich?"
+
+"He's got an uncle that must be, or he couldn't be living in a place
+like he was telling me. It's one of those stately homes of England you
+read about."
+
+Mrs. Molloy mused. The soft smile on her face showed that her day
+dreams were pleasant ones.
+
+"I'll have to get me some new frocks ... and hats ... and shoes ... and
+stockings ... and ..."
+
+"Now, now, now!" said her husband, with that anxious alarm which
+husbands exhibit on these occasions. "Be yourself, baby! You aren't
+going to stay at Buckingham Palace."
+
+"But a country-house party with swell people...."
+
+"It isn't a country-house party. There's only the uncle besides those
+two boys we met to-night. But I'll tell you what. If I can plant a good
+block of those Silver River shares on the old man, you can go shopping
+all you want."
+
+"Oh, Soapy! Do you think you can?"
+
+"Do I think I can?" echoed Mr. Molloy scornfully. "I don't say I've
+ever sold Central Park or Brooklyn Bridge to anybody, but if I can't
+get rid of a parcel of home-made oil stock to a guy that lives in the
+country I'm losing my grip and ought to retire. Sure, I'll sell him
+those Silver Rivers, honey. These fellows that own these big estates in
+England are only glorified farmers when you come right down to it, and
+a farmer will buy anything you offer him, just so long as it's nicely
+engraved and shines when you slant the light on it."
+
+"But, Soapy...."
+
+"Now what?"
+
+"I've been thinking. Listen, Soapy. A home like this one where we're
+going is sure to have all sorts of things in it, isn't it? Pictures, I
+mean, and silver and antiques and all like that. Well, why can't we,
+once we're in the place, get away with them and make a nice clean-up?"
+
+Mr. Molloy, though conceding that this was the right spirit, was
+obliged to discourage his wife's pretty enthusiasm.
+
+"Where could you sell that sort of stuff?"
+
+"Anywhere, once you got it over to the other side. New York's full of
+rich millionaires who'll buy anything and ask no questions, just so
+long as it's antiques."
+
+Mr. Molloy shook his head.
+
+"Too dangerous, baby. If all that stuff left the house same time as we
+did, we'd have the bulls after us in ten minutes. Besides, it's not in
+my line. I've got my line, and I like to stick to it. Nobody ever got
+anywhere in the long run by going outside of his line."
+
+"Maybe you're right."
+
+"Sure I'm right. A nice conservative business, that's what I aim at."
+
+"But suppose when we get to this joint it looks dead easy?"
+
+"Ah! Well then, I'm not saying. All I'm against is risks. If
+something's handed to you on a plate, naturally no one wouldn't ever
+want to let it get past them."
+
+And with this eminently sound commercial maxim Mr. Molloy reached for
+his pyjamas and prepared for bed. Something attempted, something done,
+had earned, he felt, a night's repose.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+
+                                   I
+
+Some years before the date of the events narrated in this story, at
+the time when there was all that trouble between the aristocratic
+householders of Riverside Row and the humbler dwellers in Budd Street
+(arising, if you remember, from the practice of the latter of washing
+their more intimate articles of underclothing and hanging them to dry
+in back gardens into which their exclusive neighbours were compelled to
+gaze every time they looked out of windows), the vicar of the parish,
+the Rev. Alistair Pond-Pond, always a happy phrase-maker, wound up his
+address at the annual village sports of Rudge with an impressive appeal
+to the good feeling of those concerned.
+
+"We must not," said the Reverend Alistair, "consider ourselves as
+belonging to this section of Rudge-in-the-Vale or to that section of
+Rudge-in-the-Vale. Let us get together. Let us recollect that we are
+all fellow-members of one united community. Rudge must be looked on as
+a whole. And what a whole it is!"
+
+With the concluding words of this peroration Pat Wyvern, by the time
+she had been home a little under a week, found herself in hearty
+agreement. Walking with her father along High Street on the sixth
+morning, she had to confess herself disappointed with Rudge.
+
+There are times in everyone's experience when Life, after running
+merrily for a while through pleasant places, seems suddenly to strike
+a dull and depressing patch of road: and this was what was happening
+now to Pat. The sense, which had come to her so strongly in the lobby
+of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street, of being in a world unworthy
+of her--a world cold and unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade
+of human being, had deepened. Her home-coming, she had now definitely
+decided, was not a success.
+
+Elderly men with a grievance are seldom entertaining companions for
+the young, and five days of the undiluted society of Colonel Wyvern
+had left Pat with the feeling that, much as she loved her father, she
+wished he would sometimes change the subject of his conversation. Had
+she been present in person she could not have had a fuller grasp of the
+facts of that dynamite outrage than she now possessed.
+
+But this was not all. After Mr. Carmody's thug-like behaviour on that
+fatal day, she was given to understand, the Hall and its grounds were
+as much forbidden territory to her as the piazza of the townhouse of
+the Capulets would have been to a young Montague. And, though, being a
+modern girl, she did not as a rule respond with any great alacrity to
+parental mandates, she had her share of clan loyalty and realized that
+she must conform to the rules of the game.
+
+Accordingly she had not been within half a mile of the Hall since her
+arrival, and, having been accustomed for fourteen years to treat the
+place and its grounds as her private property, found Rudge, with a
+deadline drawn across the boundaries of Mr. Carmody's park, a poor sort
+of place. Unlovable character though Mr. Carmody was in many respects,
+she had always been fond of him, and she missed seeing him. She also
+missed seeing Hugo. And, as for John, not seeing him was the heaviest
+blow of all.
+
+From the days of her childhood, John had always been her stand-by.
+Men might come and men might go, but John went on for ever. He had
+never been too old, like Mr. Carmody, or too lazy, like Hugo, to give
+her all the time and attention she required, and she did think that,
+even though there was this absurd feud going on, he might have had
+the enterprise to make an opportunity of meeting her. As day followed
+day her resentment grew, until now she had reached the stage when she
+was telling herself that this was simply what from a knowledge of
+his character she might have expected. John--she had to face it--was
+a jellyfish. And if a man is a jellyfish, he will behave like a
+jellyfish, and it is at times of crisis that his jellyfishiness will be
+most noticeable.
+
+It was conscience that had brought Pat to the High Street this morning.
+Her father had welcomed her with such a pathetic eagerness, and had
+been so plainly pleased to see her back that she was ashamed of herself
+for not feeling happier. And it was in a spirit of remorse that now,
+though she would have preferred to stay in the garden with a book, she
+had come with him to watch him buy another bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir from Chas. Bywater, Chemist.
+
+Brophy, it should be mentioned, had proved a sensational success. His
+Elixir was making the local gnats feel perfect fools. They would bite
+Colonel Wyvern on the face and stand back, all ready to laugh, and he
+would just smear Brophy on himself and be as good as new. It was simply
+sickening, if you were a gnat; but fine, of course, if you were Colonel
+Wyvern, and that just man, always ready to give praise where praise was
+due, said as much to Chas. Bywater.
+
+"That stuff," said Colonel Wyvern, "is good. I wish I'd heard of it
+before. Give me another bottle."
+
+Mr. Bywater was delighted--not merely at this rush of trade, but
+because, good kindly soul, he enjoyed ameliorating the lot of others.
+
+"I thought you would find it capital, Colonel. I get a great many
+requests for it. I sold a bottle yesterday to Mr. Carmody, senior."
+
+Colonel Wyvern's sunniness vanished as if someone had turned it off
+with a tap.
+
+"Don't talk to me about Mr. Carmody," he said gruffly.
+
+"Quite," said Chas. Bywater.
+
+Pat bridged a painful silence.
+
+"Is Mr. Carmody back, then?" she asked. "I heard he was at some sort of
+health place."
+
+"Healthward Ho, miss, just outside Lowick."
+
+"He ought to be in prison," said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+Mr. Bywater stopped himself in the nick of time from saying "Quite,"
+which would have been a deviation from his firm policy of never taking
+sides between customers.
+
+"He returned the day before yesterday, miss, and was immediately bitten
+on the nose by a mosquito."
+
+"Thank God!" said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+"But I sold him one of the three-and-sixpenny size of the Elixir,"
+said Chas. Bywater, with quiet pride, "and a single application
+completely eased the pain."
+
+Colonel Wyvern said he was sorry to hear it, and there is no doubt that
+conversation would once more have become difficult had there not at
+this moment made itself heard from the other side of the door a loud
+and penetrating sniff.
+
+A fatherly smile lit up Chas. Bywater's face.
+
+"That's Mr. John's dog," he said, reaching for the cough drops.
+
+Pat opened the door and the statement was proved correct. With a short
+wooffle, partly of annoyance at having been kept waiting and partly of
+happy anticipation, Emily entered, and seating herself by the counter,
+gazed expectantly at the chemist.
+
+"Hullo, Emily," said Pat.
+
+Emily gave her a brief look in which there was no pleased recognition,
+but only the annoyance of a dog interrupted during an important
+conference. She then returned her gaze to Mr. Bywater.
+
+"What do you say, doggie?" said Mr. Bywater, more paternal than ever,
+poising a cough drop.
+
+"Oh, Hell! Snap into it!" replied Emily curtly, impatient at this
+foolery.
+
+"Hear her speak for it?" said Mr. Bywater. "Almost human, that dog is."
+
+Colonel Wyvern, whom he had addressed, did not seem to share his lively
+satisfaction. He muttered to himself. He regarded Emily sourly, and his
+right foot twitched a little.
+
+"Just like a human being, isn't she, miss?" said Chas. Bywater, damped
+but persevering.
+
+"Quite," said Pat absently.
+
+Mr. Bywater, startled by this infringement of copyright, dropped the
+cough lozenge and Emily snapped it up.
+
+Pat, still distraite, was watching the door. She was surprised to find
+that her breath was coming rather quickly and that her heart had begun
+to beat with more than its usual rapidity. She was amazed at herself.
+Just because John Carroll would shortly appear in that doorway must
+she stand fluttering, for all the world as though poor old Johnnie, an
+admitted jellyfish, were something that really mattered? It was too
+silly, and she tried to bully herself into composure. She failed. Her
+heart, she was compelled to realize, was now simply racing.
+
+A step sounded outside, a shadow fell on the sunlit pavement, and Dolly
+Molloy walked into the shop.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+It is curious, when one reflects, to think how many different
+impressions a single individual can make simultaneously on a number
+of his or her fellow-creatures. At the present moment it was almost
+as though four separate and distinct Dolly Molloys had entered the
+establishment of Chas. Bywater.
+
+The Dolly whom Colonel Wyvern beheld was a beautiful woman with just
+that hint of diablerie in her bearing which makes elderly widowers feel
+that there is life in the old dog yet. Colonel Wyvern was no longer
+the dashing Hussar who in the 'nineties had made his presence felt in
+many a dim sitting-out place and in many a punt beneath the willows
+of the Thames, but there still lingered in him a trace of the old
+barrack-room fire. Drawing himself up, he automatically twirled his
+moustache. To Colonel Wyvern Dolly represented Beauty.
+
+To Chas. Bywater, with his more practical and worldly outlook, she
+represented Wealth. He saw in Dolly not so much a beautiful woman
+as a rich-looking woman. Although Soapy had contrived, with subtle
+reasoning, to head her off from the extensive purchases which she
+had contemplated making in preparation for her visit to Rudge, Dolly
+undoubtedly took the eye. She was, as she would have put it herself, a
+snappy dresser, and in Chas. Bywater's mind she awoke roseate visions
+of large orders for face creams, imported scents and expensive bath
+salts.
+
+Emily, it was evident, regarded Mrs. Molloy as Perfection. A dog who,
+as a rule, kept herself to herself and looked on the world with a cool
+and rather sardonic eye, she had conceived for Dolly the moment they
+met one of those capricious adorations which come occasionally to the
+most hard-boiled Welsh terriers. Hastily swallowing her cough drop, she
+bounded at Dolly and fawned on her.
+
+So far, the reactions caused by the newcomer's entrance have been
+unmixedly favourable. It is only when we come to Pat that we find
+Disapproval rearing its ugly head.
+
+"Disapproval," indeed, is a mild and inadequate word. "Loathing" would
+be more correct. Where Colonel Wyvern beheld beauty and Mr. Bywater
+opulence, Pat saw only flashiness, vulgarity, and general horribleness.
+Piercing with woman's intuitive eye through an outer crust which to
+vapid and irreflective males might possibly seem attractive, she saw
+Dolly as a vampire and a menace--the sort of woman who goes about
+the place ensnaring miserable fat-headed innocent young men who have
+lived all their lives in the country and so lack the experience to see
+through females of her type.
+
+For beyond a question, felt Pat, this girl must have come to Rudge in
+brazen pursuit of poor old Johnnie. The fact that she took her walks
+abroad accompanied by Emily showed that she was staying at the Hall;
+and what reason could she have had for getting herself invited to the
+Hall if not that she wished to continue the acquaintance begun at the
+Mustard Spoon? This, then, was the explanation of John's failure to
+come and pass the time of day with an old friend. What she had assumed
+to be jellyfishiness was in reality base treachery. Like Emily, whom,
+slavering over Mrs. Molloy's shoes, she could gladly have kicked, he
+had been hypnotized by this woman's specious glamour and had forsaken
+old allegiances.
+
+Pat, eyeing Dolly coldly, was filled with a sisterly desire to save
+John from one who could never make him happy.
+
+Dolly was all friendliness.
+
+"Why, hello," she said, removing a shapely foot from Emily's mouth, "I
+was wondering when I was going to run into you. I heard you lived in
+these parts."
+
+"Yes?" said Pat frigidly.
+
+"I'm staying at the Hall."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"What a wonderful old place it is."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"All those pictures and tapestries and things."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is this your father?"
+
+"Yes. This is Miss Molloy, Father. We met in London."
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said Dolly.
+
+"Charmed," said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+He gave another twirl of his moustache. Chas. Bywater hovered
+beamingly. Emily, still ecstatic, continued to gnaw one of Dolly's
+shoes. The whole spectacle was so utterly revolting that Pat turned to
+the door.
+
+"I'll be going along, Father," she said. "I want to buy some stamps."
+
+"I can sell you stamps, miss," said Chas. Bywater affably.
+
+"Thank you, I will go to the post office," said Pat. Her manner
+suggested that you got a superior brand of stamps there. She walked
+out. Rudge, as she looked upon it, seemed a more depressing place than
+ever. Sunshine flooded the High Street. Sunshine fell on the Carmody
+Arms, the Village Hall, the Plough and Chickens, the Bunch of Grapes,
+the Waggoner's Rest and the Jubilee Watering Trough. But there was no
+sunshine in the heart of Pat Wyvern.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+And, curiously enough, at this very moment up at the Hall the same
+experience was happening to Mr. Lester Carmody. Staring out of his
+study window, he gazed upon a world bathed in a golden glow: but his
+heart was cold and heavy. He had just had a visit from the Rev.
+Alistair Pond-Pond, and the Reverend Alistair had touched him for five
+shillings.
+
+Many men in Mr. Carmody's place would have considered that they had got
+off lightly. The vicar had come seeking subscriptions to the Church
+Organ Fund, the Mothers' Pleasant Sunday Evenings, the Distressed
+Cottagers' Aid Society, the Stipend of the Additional Curate and
+the Rudge Lads' Annual Summer Outing, and there had been moments of
+mad optimism when he had hoped for as much as a ten-pound note. The
+actual bag, as he totted it up while riding pensively away on his
+motor-bicycle, was the above-mentioned five shillings and a promise
+that the squire's nephew Hugo and his friend Mr. Fish should perform at
+the village concert next week.
+
+And even so, Mr. Carmody was looking on him as a robber. Five shillings
+had gone--just like that--and every moment now he was expecting his
+nephew John to walk in and increase his expenditure. For just after
+breakfast John had asked if he could have a word with him later on in
+the morning, and Mr. Carmody knew what that meant.
+
+John ran the Hall's dairy farm, and he was always coming to Mr.
+Carmody for money to buy exotic machinery which could not, the latter
+considered, be really necessary. To Mr. Carmody a dairy farm was a
+straight issue between man and cow. You backed the cow up against a
+wall, secured its milk, and there you were. John always seemed to want
+to make the thing so complicated and difficult, and only the fact that
+he also made it pay induced his uncle ever to accede to his monstrous
+demands.
+
+Nor was this all that was poisoning a perfect summer day for Mr.
+Carmody. There was in addition the soul-searing behaviour of Doctor
+Alexander Twist, of Healthward Ho.
+
+When Doctor Twist had undertaken the contract of making a new Lester
+Carmody out of the old Lester Carmody, he had cannily stipulated for
+cash down in advance--this to cover a course of three weeks. But at the
+end of the second week Mr. Carmody, learning from his nephew Hugo that
+an American millionaire was arriving at the Hall, had naturally felt
+compelled to forego the final stages of the treatment and return home.
+Equally naturally, he had invited Doctor Twist to refund one-third
+of the fee. This the eminent physician and physical culture expert
+had resolutely declined to do, and Mr. Carmody, re-reading the man's
+letter, thought he had never set eyes upon a baser document.
+
+He was shuddering at the depths of depravity which it revealed, when
+the door opened and John came in. Mr. Carmody beheld him and shuddered.
+John--he could tell it by his eye--was planning another bad dent in the
+budget.
+
+"Oh, Uncle Lester," said John.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Carmody hopelessly.
+
+"I think we ought to have some new Alpha Separators."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Alpha Separators."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"We need them."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"The old ones are past their work."
+
+"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is an Alpha Separator?"
+
+John said it was an Alpha Separator.
+
+There was a pause. John, who appeared to have something on his mind
+these days, stared gloomily at the carpet. Mr. Carmody shifted in his
+chair.
+
+"Very well," he said.
+
+"And new tractors," said John. "And we could do with a few harrows."
+
+"Why do you want harrows?"
+
+"For harrowing."
+
+Even Mr. Carmody, anxious though he was to find flaws in the other's
+reasoning, could see that this might well be so. Try harrowing without
+harrows, and you are handicapped from the start. But why harrow at
+all? That was what seemed to him superfluous and wasteful. Still, he
+supposed it was unavoidable. After all, John had been carefully trained
+at an agricultural college after leaving Oxford and presumably knew.
+
+"Very well," he said.
+
+"All right," said John.
+
+He went out, and Mr. Carmody experienced a little relief at the thought
+that he had now heard all this morning's bad news.
+
+But dairy farmers have second thoughts. The door opened again.
+
+"I was forgetting," said John, poking his head in.
+
+Mr. Carmody uttered a low moan.
+
+"We want some Thomas tap-cinders."
+
+"Thomas what?"
+
+"Tap-cinders."
+
+"Thomas tap-cinders?"
+
+"Thomas tap-cinders."
+
+Mr. Carmody swallowed unhappily. He knew it was no use asking what
+these mysterious implements were, for his nephew would simply reply
+that they were Thomas tap-cinders or that they were something invented
+by a Mr. Thomas for the purpose of cinder-tapping, leaving his brain in
+the same addled condition in which it was at present. If John wished to
+tap cinders, he supposed he must humour him.
+
+"Very well," he said dully.
+
+He held his breath for a few moments after the door had closed once
+more, then, gathering at length that the assault on his purse was over,
+expelled it in a long sigh and gave himself up to bleak meditation.
+
+The lot of the English landed proprietor, felt Mr. Carmody, is not what
+it used to be in the good old times. When the first Carmody settled in
+Rudge he had found little to view with alarm. He was sitting pretty,
+and he admitted it. Those were the days when churls were churls, and a
+scurvy knave was quite content to work twelve hours a day, Saturdays
+included, in return for a little black bread and an occasional nod of
+approval from his overlord. But in this Twentieth-Century England's
+peasantry has degenerated. They expect coddling. Their roofs leak, and
+you have to mend them; their walls fall down and you have to build them
+up; their lanes develop holes and you have to restore the surface,
+and all this runs into money. The way things were shaping, felt Mr.
+Carmody, in a few years a landlord would be expected to pay for the
+repairs of his tenants' wireless sets.
+
+He wandered to the window and looked out at the sunlit garden. And as
+he did so there came into his range of vision the sturdy figure of his
+guest, Mr. Molloy, and for the first time that morning Lester Carmody
+seemed to hear, beating faintly in the distance, the wings of the blue
+bird. In a world containing anybody as rich-looking as Thomas G. Molloy
+there was surely still hope.
+
+Ronald Fish's prediction that Hugo's uncle would appreciate a visit
+from so solid a citizen of the United States as Mr. Molloy had been
+fulfilled to the letter. Mr. Carmody had welcomed his guest with open
+arms. The more rich men he could gather about him, the better he was
+pleased, for he was a man of vision, and had quite a number of schemes
+in his mind for which he was anxious to obtain financial support.
+
+He decided to go and have a chat with Mr. Molloy. On a morning like
+this, with all Nature smiling, an American millionaire might well
+feel just in the mood to put up a few hundred thousand dollars for
+something. For July had come in on golden wings, and the weather now
+was the kind of weather to make a poet sing, a lover love, and a Scotch
+business man subscribe largely to companies formed for the purpose of
+manufacturing diamonds out of coal tar. On such a morning, felt Mr.
+Carmody, anybody ought to be willing to put up any sum for anything.
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+Nature continued to smile for about another three and a quarter
+minutes, and then, as far as Mr. Carmody was concerned, the sun
+went out. With a genial heartiness, which gashed him like a knife,
+the plutocratic Mr. Molloy declined to invest even a portion of his
+millions in a new golf course, a cinema de luxe to be established in
+Rudge High Street, or any of the four other schemes which his host
+presented to his notice.
+
+"No, sir," said Mr. Molloy. "I'm mighty sorry I can't meet you in any
+way, but the fact is I'm all fixed up in Oil. Oil's my dish. I began in
+Oil and I'll end in Oil. I wouldn't be happy outside of Oil."
+
+"Oh?" said Mr. Carmody, regarding this Human Sardine with as little
+open hostility and dislike as he could manage on the spur of the moment.
+
+"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, still in lyrical vein, "I put my
+first thousand into Oil and I'll put my last thousand into Oil. Oil's
+been a good friend to me. There's money in Oil."
+
+"There is money," urged Mr. Carmody, "in a cinema in Rudge High Street."
+
+"Not the money there is in Oil."
+
+"You are a stranger here," went on Mr. Carmody patiently, "so you have
+no doubt got a mistaken idea of the potentialities of Rudge. Rudge,
+you must remember, is a centre. Small though it is, never forget that
+it lies just off the main road in the heart of a prosperous county.
+Worcester is only seven miles away, Birmingham only eighteen. People
+would come in their motors...."
+
+"I'm not stopping them," said Mr. Molloy generously. "All I'm saying is
+that my money stays in little old Oil."
+
+"Or take Golf," said Mr. Carmody, side-stepping and attacking from
+another angle. "The only good golf course in Worcestershire at present
+is at Stourbridge. Worcestershire needs more golf courses. You know how
+popular Golf is nowadays."
+
+"Not so popular as Oil. Oil," said Mr. Molloy, with the air of one
+making an epigram, "is Oil."
+
+Mr. Carmody stopped himself just in time from saying what he thought of
+Oil. To relieve his feelings he ground his heel into the soft gravel
+of the path, and had but one regret, that Mr. Molloy's most sensitive
+toe was not under it. Half turning in the process of making this bitter
+gesture, he perceived that Providence, since the days of Job always
+curious to know just how much a good man can bear, had sent Ronald
+Overbury Fish to add to his troubles. Young Mr. Fish was sauntering up
+behind his customary eleven inches of cigarette holder, his pink face
+wearing that expression of good-natured superiority which, ever since
+their first meeting, had afflicted Mr. Carmody sorely.
+
+From the list of Mr. Carmody's troubles, recently tabulated, Ronnie
+Fish was inadvertently omitted. Although to Lady Julia Fish, his
+mother, this young gentleman, no doubt, was all the world, Lester
+Carmody had found him nothing but a pain in the neck. Apart from
+the hideous expense of entertaining a man who took twice of nearly
+everything, and helped himself unblushingly to more port, he chafed
+beneath his guest's curiously patronizing manner. He objected to being
+treated as a junior--and, what was more, as a half-witted junior--by
+solemn young men with pink faces.
+
+"What's the argument?" asked Ronnie Fish, anchoring self and cigarette
+holder at Mr. Carmody's side.
+
+Mr. Molloy smiled genially.
+
+"No argument, brother," he replied with that bluff heartiness which
+Lester Carmody had come to dislike so much. "I was merely telling our
+good friend and host here that the best investment under the broad blue
+canopy of God's sky is Oil."
+
+"Quite right," said Ronnie Fish. "He's perfectly correct, my dear
+Carmody."
+
+"Our good host was trying to interest me in golf courses."
+
+"Don't touch 'em," said Mr. Fish.
+
+"I won't," said Mr. Molloy. "Give me Oil. Oil's oil. First in war,
+first in peace, first in the hearts of its countrymen, that's what Oil
+is. The Universal Fuel of the Future."
+
+"Absolutely," said Ronnie Fish. "What did Gladstone say in '88? You can
+fuel some of the people all the time, and you can fuel all the people
+some of the time, but you can't fuel all the people all of the time. He
+was forgetting about Oil. Probably he meant coal."
+
+"Coal?" Mr. Molloy laughed satirically. You could see he despised the
+stuff. "Don't talk to me about Coal."
+
+This was another disappointment for Mr. Carmody. Cinemas _de luxe_ and
+golf courses having failed, Coal was just what he had been intending to
+talk about. He suspected its presence beneath the turf of the park, and
+would have been glad to verify his suspicions with the aid of someone
+else's capital.
+
+"You listen to this bird, Carmody," said Mr. Fish, patting his host on
+the back. "He's talking sense. Oil's the stuff. Dig some of the savings
+out of the old sock, my dear Carmody, and wade in. You'll never regret
+it."
+
+And, having delivered himself of this advice with a fatherly
+kindliness which sent his host's temperature up several degrees, Ronnie
+Fish strolled on.
+
+Mr. Molloy watched him disappear with benevolent approval. He said to
+Mr. Carmody that that young man had his head screwed on the right way,
+and seemed not to notice a certain lack of responsive enthusiasm on the
+other's part. Ronnie Fish's head was not one of Mr. Carmody's favourite
+subjects at the moment.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, resuming. "Any man that goes into Oil
+is going into a good thing. Oil's all right. You don't see John D.
+Rockefeller running round asking for hand-outs from his friends, do
+you? No, sir! John's got his modest little competence, same as me, and
+he got it, like I did, out of Oil. Say, listen, Mr. Carmody, it isn't
+often I give up any of my holdings, but you've been mighty nice to me,
+inviting me to your home and all, and I'd like to do something for you
+in return. What do you say to a good, solid block of Silver River stock
+at just the price it cost me? And let me tell you I'm offering you
+something that half the big men on our side would give their eye teeth
+for. Only a couple of days before I sailed I was in Charley Schwab's
+office, and he said to me, 'Tom,' said Charley, 'right up till now
+I've stuck to Steel and I've done well. Understand,' he said, 'I'm not
+knocking Steel. But Oil's the stuff, and if you want to part with any
+of that Silver River of yours, Tom,' he said, 'pass it across this desk
+and write your own ticket.' That'll show you."
+
+There is no anguish like the anguish of the man who is trying to
+extract cash from a fellow human being and suddenly finds the fellow
+human being trying to extract it from him. Mr. Carmody laughed a bitter
+laugh.
+
+"Do you imagine," he said, "that I have money to spare for speculative
+investments?"
+
+"Speculative?" Mr. Molloy seemed to suspect his ears of playing tricks.
+"Silver River spec----?"
+
+"By the time I've finished paying the bills for the expenses of this
+infernal estate I consider myself lucky if I've got a few hundred that
+I can call my own."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Is that so?" said Mr. Molloy in a thin voice.
+
+Strictly speaking, it was not. Before succeeding to his present
+position of head of the family and squire of Rudge Hall, Lester Carmody
+had contrived to put away in gilt-edged securities a very nice sum
+indeed, the fruit of his labours in the world of business. But it was
+his whim to regard himself as a struggling pauper.
+
+"But all this...." Mr. Molloy indicated with a wave of his hand the
+smiling gardens, the rolling park and the opulent-looking trees
+reflected in the waters of the moat. "Surely this means a barrel of
+money?"
+
+"Everything that comes in goes out again in expenses. There's no end to
+my expenses. Farmers in England to-day sit up at night trying to think
+of new claims they can make against a landlord."
+
+There was another pause.
+
+"That's bad," said Mr. Molloy thoughtfully. "Yes, sir, that's bad."
+
+His commiseration was not all for Mr. Carmody. In fact, very little
+of it was. Most of it was reserved for himself. It began to look, he
+realized, as though in coming to this stately home of England he had
+been simply wasting valuable time. It was not as if he enjoyed staying
+at country houses in a purely æsthetic spirit. On the contrary, a place
+like Rudge Hall afflicted his town-bred nerves. Being in it seemed to
+him like living in the first-act set of an old-fashioned comic opera.
+He always felt that at any moment a band of villagers and retainers
+might dance out and start a drinking chorus.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "that must grind you a good deal."
+
+"What must?"
+
+It was not Mr. Carmody who had spoken, but his guest's attractive
+young wife, who, having returned from the village, had come up from
+the direction of the rose garden. From afar she had observed her
+husband spreading his hands in broad, persuasive gestures, and from
+her knowledge of him had gathered that he had embarked on one of those
+high-pressure sales talks of his which did so much to keep the wolf
+from the door. Then she had seen a shadow fall athwart his fine face,
+and, scenting a hitch in the negotiations, had hurried up to lend
+wifely assistance.
+
+"What must grind him?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Molloy kept nothing from his bride.
+
+"I was offering our host here a block of those Silver River shares...."
+
+"Oh, you aren't going to sell Silver Rivers!" cried Mrs. Molloy in
+pretty concern. "Why, you've always told me they're the biggest thing
+you've got."
+
+"So they are. But...."
+
+"Oh, well," said Dolly with a charming smile, "seeing it's Mr. Carmody.
+I wouldn't mind Mr. Carmody having them."
+
+"Nor would I," said Mr. Molloy sincerely. "But he can't afford to buy."
+
+"What!"
+
+"You tell her," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+Mr. Carmody told her. He was never averse to speaking of the
+unfortunate position in which the modern owner of English land found
+himself.
+
+"Well, I don't get it," said Dolly, shaking her head. "You call
+yourself a poor man. How can you be poor, when that gallery place you
+showed us round yesterday is jam full of pictures worth a fortune an
+inch and tapestries and all those gold coins?"
+
+"Heirlooms."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"They're heirlooms," said Mr. Carmody bitterly.
+
+He always felt bitter when he thought of the Rudge Hall heirlooms. He
+looked upon them as a mean joke played on him by a gang of sardonic
+ancestors.
+
+To a man, lacking both reverence for family traditions and appreciation
+of the beautiful in art, who comes into possession of an ancient house
+and its contents, there must always be something painfully ironical
+about heirlooms. To such a man they are simply so much potential wealth
+which is being allowed to lie idle, doing no good to anybody. Mr.
+Carmody had always had that feeling very strongly.
+
+Unlike the majority of heirs, he had not been trained from boyhood
+to revere the home of his ancestors, and to look forward to its
+possession as a sacred trust. He had been the second son of a second
+son, and his chance of ever succeeding to the property was at the
+outset so remote that he had seldom given it a thought. He had gone
+into business at an early age, and when, in middle life, a series of
+accidents made him squire of Rudge Hall, he had brought with him to the
+place a practical eye and the commercial outlook. The result was that
+when he walked in the picture gallery and thought how much solid cash
+he could get for this Velasquez or that Gainsborough, if only he were
+given a free hand, the iron entered into Lester Carmody's soul.
+
+"They're heirlooms," he said. "I can't sell them."
+
+"How come? They're yours, aren't they?"
+
+"No," said Mr. Carmody, "they belong to the estate."
+
+On Mr. Molloy, as he listened to his host's lengthy exposition of the
+laws governing heirlooms, there descended a deepening cloud of gloom.
+You couldn't, it appeared, dispose of the darned things without the
+consent of trustees; while even if the trustees gave their consent
+they collared the money and invested it on behalf of the estate. And
+Mr. Molloy, though ordinarily a man of sanguine temperament, could not
+bring himself to believe that a hard-boiled bunch of trustees, most of
+them probably lawyers with tight lips and suspicious minds, would ever
+have the sporting spirit to take a flutter in Silver River Ordinaries.
+
+"Hell!" said Mr. Molloy with a good deal of feeling.
+
+Dolly linked her arm in his with a pretty gesture of affectionate
+solicitude.
+
+"Poor old Pop!" she said. "He's all broken up about this."
+
+Mr. Carmody regarded his guest sourly.
+
+"What's he got to worry about?" he asked with a certain resentment.
+
+"Why, Pop was sort of hoping he'd be able to buy all this stuff," said
+Dolly. "He was telling me only this morning that, if you felt like
+selling, he would write you out his cheque for whatever you wanted
+without thinking twice."
+
+
+                                   V
+
+Moodily scanning his wife's face during Mr. Carmody's lecture on
+Heirloom Law, Mr. Molloy had observed it suddenly light up in a manner
+which suggested that some pleasing thought was passing through her
+always agile brain; but, presented now in words, this thought left him
+decidedly cold. He could not see any sense in it.
+
+"For the love of Pete...!" began Mr. Molloy.
+
+His bride had promised to love, honour, and obey him, but she had never
+said anything about taking any notice of him when he tried to butt in
+on her moments of inspiration. She ignored the interruption.
+
+"You see," she said, "Pop collects old junk--I mean antiques and all
+like that. Over in America he's got a great big museum place full of
+stuff. He's going to present it to the nation when he hands in his
+dinner pail. Aren't you, Pop?"
+
+It became apparent to Mr. Molloy that at the back of his wife's mind
+there floated some idea at which, handicapped by his masculine slowness
+of wit, he could not guess. It was plain to him, however, that she
+expected him to do his bit, so he did it.
+
+"You betcher," he said.
+
+"How much would you say all that stuff in your museum was worth, Pop?"
+
+Mr. Molloy was still groping in outer darkness, but he persevered.
+
+"Oo," he said, "worth? Call it a million.... Two millions.... Three,
+maybe."
+
+"You see," explained Dolly, "the place is so full up, he doesn't really
+know what he's got. But Pierpont Morgan offered you a million for the
+pictures alone, didn't he?"
+
+Now that figures had crept into the conversation, Mr. Molloy was
+feeling more at his ease. He liked figures.
+
+"You're thinking of Jake Shubert, honey," he said. "It was the
+tapestries that Pierp. wanted. And it wasn't a million, it was seven
+hundred thousand. I laughed in his face. I asked him if he thought
+he was trying to buy cheese sandwiches at the delicatessen store or
+something. Pierp. was sore." Mr. Molloy shook his head regretfully,
+and you could see he was thinking that it was too bad that his little
+joke should have caused a coolness between himself and an old friend.
+"But, great guns!" he said, in defence of his attitude. "Seven hundred
+thousand! Did he think I wanted carfare?"
+
+Mr. Carmody's always rather protuberant eyes had been bulging farther
+and farther out of their sockets all through this exchange of remarks,
+and now they reached the farthest point possible and stayed there.
+His breath was coming in little gasps, and his fingers twitched
+convulsively. He was suffering the extreme of agony.
+
+It was all very well for a man like Mr. Molloy to speak sneeringly of
+$700,000. To most people--and Mr. Carmody was one of them--$700,000 is
+quite a nice little sum. Mr. Molloy, if he saw $700,000 lying in the
+gutter, might not think it worth his while to stoop and pick it up,
+but Mr. Carmody could not imitate that proud detachment. The thought
+that he had as his guest at Rudge a man who combined with a bottomless
+purse a taste for antiquities and that only the imbecile laws relating
+to heirlooms prevented them consummating a deal racked him from head to
+foot.
+
+"How much would you have given Mr. Carmody for all those pictures and
+things he showed us yesterday?" asked Dolly, twisting the knife in the
+wound.
+
+Mr. Molloy spread his hands carelessly.
+
+"Two hundred thousand ... three ... we wouldn't have quarrelled about
+the price. But what's the use of talking? He can't sell 'em."
+
+"Why can't he?"
+
+"Well, how can he?"
+
+"I'll tell you how. Fake a burglary."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Sure. Have the things stolen and slipped over to you without anybody
+knowing, and then you hand him your cheque for two hundred thousand or
+whatever it is, and you're happy and he's happy and everybody's happy.
+And, what's more, I guess all this stuff is insured, isn't it? Well
+then, Mr. Carmody can stick to the insurance money, and he's that much
+up besides whatever he gets from you."
+
+There was a silence. Dolly had said her say, and Mr. Molloy felt for
+the moment incapable of speech. That he had not been mistaken in
+supposing that his wife had a scheme at the back of her head was now
+plain, but, as outlined, it took his breath away. Considered purely
+as a scheme, he had not a word to say against it. It was commercially
+sound and did credit to the ingenuity of one whom he had always
+regarded as the slickest thinker of her sex. But it was not the sort of
+scheme, he considered, which ought to have emanated from the presumably
+innocent and unspotted daughter of a substantial Oil millionaire. It
+was calculated, he felt, to create in their host's mind doubts and
+misgivings as to the sort of people he was entertaining.
+
+He need have no such apprehension. It was not righteous disapproval
+that was holding Mr. Carmody dumb.
+
+It has been laid down by an acute thinker that there is a subtle
+connection between felony and fat. Almost all embezzlers, for instance,
+says this authority, are fat men. Whether this is or is not true,
+the fact remains that the sensational criminality of the suggestion
+just made to him awoke no horror in Mr. Carmody's ample bosom. He
+was startled, as any man might be who had this sort of idea sprung
+suddenly on him in his own garden, but he was not shocked. A youth and
+middle age spent on the London Stock Exchange had left Lester Carmody
+singularly broad-minded. He had to a remarkable degree that specious
+charity which allows a man to look indulgently on any financial
+project, however fishy, provided he can see a bit in it for himself.
+
+"It's money for nothing," urged Dolly, misinterpreting his silence.
+"The stuff isn't doing any good, just lying around the way it is now.
+And it isn't as if it didn't really belong to you. All what you were
+saying awhile back about the law is simply mashed potatoes. The things
+belong to the house, and the house belongs to you, so where's the harm
+in your selling them? Who's supposed to get them after you?"
+
+Mr. Carmody withdrew his gaze from the middle distance.
+
+"Eh? Oh. My nephew Hugo."
+
+"Well, you aren't worrying about him?"
+
+Mr. Carmody was not. What he was worrying about was the practicability
+of the thing. Could it, he was asking himself, be put safely through
+without the risk, so distasteful to a man of sensibility, of landing
+him for a lengthy term of years in a prison cell? It was on this aspect
+of the matter that he now touched.
+
+"It wouldn't be safe," he said, and few men since the world began have
+ever spoken more wistfully. "We would be found out."
+
+"Not a chance. Who would find out? Who's going to say anything? You're
+not. I'm not. Pop's not."
+
+"You bet your life Pop's not," asserted Mr. Molloy.
+
+Mr. Carmody gazed out over the waters of the moat. His brain, quickened
+by the stimulating prospect of money for nothing, detected another
+doubtful point.
+
+"Who would take the things?"
+
+"You mean get them out of the house?"
+
+"Exactly. Somebody would have to take them. It would be necessary to
+create the appearance of an actual burglary."
+
+"Well, there'll be an actual burglary."
+
+"But whom could we trust in such a vital matter?"
+
+"That's all right. Pop's got a friend, another millionaire like
+himself, who would put this thing through just for the fun of it, to
+oblige Pop. You could trust him."
+
+"Who?" asked Mr. Molloy, plainly surprised that any friend of his could
+be trusted.
+
+"Chimp," said Dolly briefly.
+
+"Oh, Chimp," said Mr. Molloy, his face clearing. "Yes, Chimp would do
+it."
+
+"Who," asked Mr. Carmody, "is Chimp?"
+
+"A good friend of mine. You wouldn't know him."
+
+Mr. Carmody scratched at the gravel with his toe, and for a long minute
+there was silence in the garden. Mr. Molloy looked at Mrs. Molloy.
+Mrs. Molloy looked at Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy closed his left eye for
+a fractional instant, and in response Mrs. Molloy permitted her right
+eyelid to quiver. But, perceiving that this was one of the occasions on
+which a strong man wishes to be left alone to commune with his soul,
+they forebore to break in upon his reverie with jarring speech.
+
+"Well, I'll think it over," said Mr. Carmody.
+
+"Atta-boy!" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Sure. You take a nice walk around the block all by yourself," advised
+Mrs. Molloy, "and then come back and issue a bulletin."
+
+Mr. Carmody moved away, pondering deeply, and Mr. Molloy turned to his
+wife.
+
+"What made you think of Chimp?" he asked doubtfully.
+
+"Well, he's the only guy on this side that we really know. We can't
+pick and choose, same as if we were in New York."
+
+Mr. Molloy eyed the moat with a thoughtful frown.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you, honey. I'm not so darned sure that I sort of kind
+of like bringing Chimp into a thing like this. You know what he is--as
+slippery as an eel that's been rubbed all over with axle grease. He
+might double-cross us."
+
+"Not if we double-cross him first."
+
+"But could we?"
+
+"Sure we could. And, anyway, it's Chimp or no one. This isn't the sort
+of affair you can just go out into the street and pick up the first
+man you run into. It's a job where you've got to have somebody you've
+worked with before."
+
+"All right, baby. If you say so. You always were the brains of the
+firm. If you think it's kayo, then it's all right by me and no more to
+be said. Cheese it! Here's his nibs back again."
+
+Mr. Carmody was coming up the gravel path, his air that of a man who
+has made a great decision. He had evidently been following a train of
+thought, for he began abruptly at the point to which it had led him.
+
+"There's only one thing," he said. "I don't like the idea of bringing
+in this friend of yours. He may be all right or he may not. You say you
+can trust him, but it seems to me the fewer people who know about this
+business, the better."
+
+These were Mr. Molloy's sentiments, also. He would vastly have
+preferred to keep it a nice, cosy affair among the three of them. But
+it was no part of his policy to ignore obvious difficulties.
+
+"I'd like that, too," he said. "I don't want to call in Chimp any more
+than you do. But there's this thing of getting the stuff out of the
+house."
+
+"What you were saying just now," Mrs. Molloy reminded Mr. Carmody.
+"It's got to look like an outside job, what I mean."
+
+"As it's called," said Mr. Molloy hastily. "She's always reading these
+detective stories," he explained. "That's where she picks up these
+expressions. Outside job, ha, ha! But she's dead right, at that. You
+said yourself it would be necessary to create the appearance of an
+actual burglary. If we don't get Chimp, who is going to take the stuff?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"I am," repeated Mr. Carmody stoutly. "I have been thinking the whole
+matter out, and it will be perfectly simple. I shall get up very early
+to-morrow morning and enter the picture gallery through the window by
+means of a ladder. This will deceive the police into supposing the
+theft to have been the work of a professional burglar."
+
+Mr. Molloy was regarding him with affectionate admiration.
+
+"I never knew you were such a hot sketch!" said Mr. Molloy. "You
+certainly are one smooth citizen. Looks to me as if you'd done this
+sort of thing before."
+
+"Wear gloves," advised Mrs. Molloy.
+
+"What she means," said Mr. Molloy, again speaking with a certain
+nervous haste, "is that the first thing the bulls--as the expression
+is--they always call the police bulls in these detective stories--the
+first thing the police look for is fingerprints. The fellows in the
+books always wear gloves."
+
+"A very sensible precaution," said Mr. Carmody, now thoroughly in the
+spirit of the thing. "I am glad you mentioned it. I shall make a point
+of doing so."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI
+
+
+                                   I
+
+The picture gallery of Rudge Hall, the receptacle of what Mrs. Soapy
+Molloy had called the antiques and all like that, was situated on the
+second floor of that historic edifice. To Mr. Carmody, at five-thirty
+on the following morning, as he propped against the broad sill of the
+window facing the moat a ladder, which he had discovered in one of the
+barns, it looked much higher. He felt, as he gazed upward, like an
+inexpert Jack about to mount the longest bean stalk on record.
+
+Even as a boy, Lester Carmody had never been a great climber. While
+his young companions, reckless of risk to life and limb, had swarmed
+to the top of apple trees, Mr. Carmody had preferred to roam about on
+solid ground, hunting in the grass for windfalls. He had always hated
+heights, and this morning found him more prejudiced against them than
+ever. It says much for crime as a wholesome influence in a man's life
+that the lure of the nefarious job which he had undertaken should
+have induced him eventually after much hesitation to set foot on the
+ladder's lowest rung. Nothing but a single-minded desire to do down an
+innocent insurance company could have lent him the necessary courage.
+
+Mind having triumphed over matter to this extent, Mr. Carmody found
+the going easier. Carefully refraining from looking down, he went
+doggedly upward. Only the sound of his somewhat stertorous breathing
+broke the hushed stillness of the summer morning. As far as the weather
+was concerned, it was the start of a perfect day. But Mr. Carmody paid
+no attention to the sunbeams creeping over the dewy grass, nor, when
+the quiet was broken by the first piping of birds, did he pause to
+listen. He had not, he considered, time for that sort of thing. He was
+to have ample leisure later, but of this he was not aware.
+
+He continued to climb, using the extreme of caution--a method which,
+while it helped to ease his mind, necessarily rendered progress slow.
+Before long, he was suffering from a feeling that he had been climbing
+this ladder all his life. The thing seemed to have no end. He was now,
+he felt, at such a distance from the earth that he wondered the air was
+not more rarefied, and it appeared incredible to him that he should not
+long since have reached the window sill.
+
+Looking up at this point, a thing he had not dared to do before, he
+found that steady perseverance had brought about its usual result. The
+sill was only a few inches above his head, and with the realization
+of this fact there came to him something that was almost a careless
+jauntiness. He quickened his pace, and treading heavily on an upper
+rung snapped it in two as if it had been matchwood.
+
+When this accident occurred, he had been on a level with the sill and
+just about to step warily on to it. The effect of the breaking of the
+rung was to make him execute this movement at about fifteen times the
+speed which he had contemplated. There was a moment in which the whole
+universe seemed to dissolve, and then he was on the sill, his fingers
+clinging with a passionate grip to a small piece of lead piping that
+protruded from the wall and his legs swinging dizzily over the abyss.
+The ladder, urged outward by his last frenzied kick, tottered for an
+instant, then fell to the ground.
+
+The events just described, though it seemed longer to the principal
+actor in them, had occupied perhaps six seconds. They left Mr. Carmody
+in a world that jumped and swam before his eyes, feeling as though
+somebody had extracted his heart and replaced it with some kind of
+lively firework. This substitute, whatever it was, appeared to be
+fizzing and leaping inside his chest, and its gyrations interfered with
+his breathing. For some minutes his only conscious thought was that he
+felt extremely ill. Then becoming by slow degrees more composed, he was
+enabled to examine the situation.
+
+It was not a pleasant one. At first, it had been agreeable enough
+simply to allow his mind to dwell on the fact that he was alive and in
+one piece. But now, probing beneath this mere surface aspect of the
+matter, he perceived that, taking the most conservative estimate, he
+must acknowledge himself to be in a peculiarly awkward position.
+
+The hour was about a quarter to six. He was thirty feet or so above the
+ground. And, though reason told him that the window sill on which he
+sat was thoroughly solid and quite capable of bearing a much heavier
+weight, he could not rid himself of the feeling that at any moment it
+might give way and precipitate him into the depths.
+
+Of course, looked at in the proper spirit, his predicament had all
+sorts of compensations. The medical profession is agreed that there is
+nothing better for the health than the fresh air of the early morning:
+and this he was in a position to drink into his lungs in unlimited
+quantities. Furthermore, nobody could have been more admirably situated
+than he to compile notes for one of those Country Life articles which
+are so popular with the readers of daily papers.
+
+"As I sit on my second-floor window sill and gaze about me," Mr.
+Carmody ought to have been saying to himself, "I see Dame Nature busy
+about her morning tasks. Everything in my peaceful garden is growing
+and blowing. Here I note that most gem-like of all annuals, the African
+nemesia with its brilliant ruby and turquoise tints; there the lovely
+tangle of blue, purple, and red formed by the blending shades of
+delphiniums, Canterbury bells, and the popular geum. Birds, too, are
+chanting everywhere their morning anthems. I see the Jay (_Garrulus
+Glandarius Rufitergum_), the _Corvus Monedula Spermologus_ or Jackdaw,
+the Sparrow (better known, perhaps, to some of my readers as _Prunella
+Modularis Occidentalis_) and many others...."
+
+But Mr. Carmody's reflections did not run on these lines. It was
+with a gloomy and hostile eye that he regarded the grass, the trees,
+the flowers, the birds and dew that lay like snow upon the turf: and
+of all these, it was possibly the birds that he disliked most. They
+were an appalling crowd--noisy, fussy, and bustling about with a
+sort of overdone heartiness that seemed to Mr. Carmody affected and
+offensive. They got on his nerves and stayed there: and outstanding
+among the rest in general lack of charm was a certain Dartford Warbler
+(_Melizophilus Undatus Dartfordiensis_) which, instead of staying in
+Dartford, where it belonged, had come all the way up to Worcestershire
+simply, it appeared, for the purpose of adding to his discomfort.
+
+This creature, flaunting a red waistcoat which might have been all
+right for a frosty day in winter but on a summer morning seemed
+intolerably loud and struck the jarring note of a Fair Isle sweater in
+the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, arrived at five minutes past six and,
+sitting down on the edge of Mr. Carmody's window sill, looked long and
+earnestly at that unfortunate man with its head cocked on one side.
+
+"This can't be real," said the Dartford Warbler in a low voice.
+
+It then flew away and did some rough work among the insects under a
+bush. At six-ten it returned.
+
+"It is real," it soliloquized. "But if real, what is it?"
+
+Pondering this problem, it returned to its meal, and Mr. Carmody was
+left for some considerable time to his meditations. It may have been
+about twenty-five minutes to seven when a voice at his elbow aroused
+him once more. The Dartford Warbler was back again, its eye now a
+little glazed and wearing the replete look of the bird that has done
+itself well at the breakfast table.
+
+"And why?" mused the Dartford Warbler, resuming at the point where he
+had left off.
+
+To Mr. Carmody, conscious now of a devouring hunger, the spectacle of
+this bloated bird was the last straw. He struck out at it in a spasm
+of irritation and nearly overbalanced. The Warbler uttered a shrill
+exclamation of terror and disappeared, looking like an absconding
+bookmaker. Mr. Carmody huddled back against the window, palpitating.
+And more time passed.
+
+It was at half-past seven, when he was beginning to feel that he had
+not tasted food since boyhood, that there sounded from somewhere below
+on his right a shrill whistling.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+He looked cautiously down. It gave him acute vertigo to do so, but he
+braved this in his desire to see. Since his vigil began, he had heard
+much whistling. In addition to the _Garrulus Glandarius Rufitergum_
+and the _Corvus Monedula Spermologus_, he had been privileged for the
+last hour or so to listen to a concert featuring such artists as the
+_Dryobates Major Anglicus_, the _Sturnus Vulgaris_, the _Emberiza
+Curlus_, and the _Muscicapa Striata_, or Spotted Flycatcher: and, a
+moment before, he would have said that in the matter of whistling he
+had had all he wanted. But this latest outburst sounded human. It
+stirred in his bosom something approaching hope.
+
+So Mr. Carmody, craning his neck, waited: and presently round the
+corner of the house, a towel about his shoulders, suggesting that he
+was on his way to take an early morning dip in the moat, came his
+nephew Hugo.
+
+Mr. Carmody, as this chronicle has shown, had never entertained for
+Hugo quite that warmth of affection which one likes to see in an uncle
+toward his nearest of kin, but at the present moment he could not have
+appreciated him more if he had been a millionaire anxious to put up
+capital for a new golf course in the park.
+
+"Hoy!" he cried, much as the beleaguered garrison of Lucknow must have
+done to the advance guard of the relieving Highlanders. "Hoy!"
+
+Hugo stopped. He looked to his right, then to his left, then in front
+of him, and then, turning, behind him. It was a spectacle that chilled
+in an instant the new sensation of kindness which his uncle had been
+feeling toward him.
+
+"Hoy!" cried Mr. Carmody. "Hugo! Confound the boy! Hugo!"
+
+For the first time the other looked up. Perceiving Mr. Carmody in his
+eyrie, he stood rigid, gazing with opened mouth. He might have been
+posing for a statue of Young Man Startled By Snake in Path While About
+to Bathe.
+
+"Great Scot!" said Hugo, looking to his uncle's prejudiced eye exactly
+like the Dartford Warbler. "What on earth are you doing up there?"
+
+Mr. Carmody would have writhed in irritation, had not prudence reminded
+him that he was thirty feet too high in the air to do that sort of
+thing.
+
+"Never mind what I'm doing up here! Help me down."
+
+"How did you get there?"
+
+"Never mind how I got here!"
+
+"But what," persisted Hugo insatiably, "is the big--or general--idea?"
+
+Withheld from the relief of writhing, Mr. Carmody gritted his teeth.
+
+"Put that ladder up," he said in a strained voice.
+
+"Ladder?"
+
+"Yes, ladder."
+
+"What ladder?"
+
+"There is a ladder on the ground."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"There. No, not there. There. There. Not there, I tell you. There.
+There."
+
+Hugo, following these directions, concluded a successful search.
+
+"Right," he said. "Ladder, long, wooden, for purposes of climbing, one.
+Correct as per memo. Now what?"
+
+"Put it up."
+
+"Right."
+
+"And hold it very carefully."
+
+"Esteemed order booked," said Hugo. "Carry on."
+
+"Are you sure you are holding it carefully?"
+
+"As in a vise."
+
+"Well, don't let go."
+
+Mr. Carmody, dying a considerable number of deaths in the process,
+descended. He found his nephew's curiosity at close range even more
+acute than it had been from a distance.
+
+"What on earth were you doing up there?" said Hugo, starting again at
+the beginning.
+
+"Never mind."
+
+"But what were you?"
+
+"If you wish to know, a rung broke and the ladder slipped."
+
+"But what were you doing on a ladder?"
+
+"Never mind!" cried Mr. Carmody, regretting more bitterly than ever
+before in his life that his late brother Eustace had not lived and died
+a bachelor. "Don't keep saying What--What--What!"
+
+"Well, why?" said Hugo, conceding the point. "Why were you climbing
+ladders?"
+
+Mr. Carmody hesitated. His native intelligence returning, he perceived
+now that this was just what the great public would want to know. It was
+little use urging a human talking machine like his nephew to keep quiet
+and say nothing about this incident. In a couple of hours it would be
+all over Rudge. He thought swiftly.
+
+"I fancied I saw a swallow's nest under the eaves."
+
+"Swallow's nest?"
+
+"Swallow's nest. The nest," said Mr. Carmody between his teeth, "of a
+swallow."
+
+"Did you think swallows nested in July?"
+
+"Why shouldn't they?"
+
+"Well, they don't."
+
+"I never said they did. I merely said...."
+
+"No swallow has ever nested in July."
+
+"I never...."
+
+"April," said our usually well-informed correspondent.
+
+"What?"
+
+"April. Swallows nest in April."
+
+"Damn all swallows!" said Mr. Carmody. And there was silence for a
+moment, while Hugo directed his keen young mind to other aspects of
+this strange affair.
+
+"How long had you been up there?"
+
+"I don't know. Hours. Since half-past five."
+
+"Half-past five? You mean you got up at half-past five to look for
+swallows' nests in July?"
+
+"I did not get up to look for swallows' nests."
+
+"But you said you were looking for swallows' nests."
+
+"I did not say I was looking for swallows' nests. I merely said I
+fancied I saw a swallow's nest...."
+
+"You couldn't have done. Swallows don't nest in July.... April."
+
+The sun was peeping over the elms. Mr. Carmody raised his clenched
+fists to it.
+
+"I did not say I saw a swallow's nest. I said I thought I saw a
+swallow's nest."
+
+"And got a ladder out and climbed up for it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Having risen from couch at five-thirty ante meridian?"
+
+"Will you kindly stop asking me all these questions."
+
+Hugo regarded him thoughtfully.
+
+"Just as you like, Uncle. Well, anything further this morning? If not,
+I'll be getting along and taking my dip."
+
+
+                                  III
+
+"I say, Ronnie," said Hugo, some two hours later, meeting his friend en
+route for the breakfast table. "You know my uncle?"
+
+"What about him?"
+
+"He's loopy."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Gone clean off his castors. I found him at seven o'clock this morning
+sitting on a second-floor window sill. He said he'd got up at
+five-thirty to look for swallows' nests."
+
+"Bad," said Mr. Fish, shaking his head with even more than his usual
+solemnity. "Second-floor window sill, did you say?"
+
+"Second-floor window sill."
+
+"Exactly how my aunt started," said Ronnie Fish.
+
+"They found her sitting on the roof of the stables, playing the ukulele
+in a blue dressing gown. She said she was Boadicea. And she wasn't.
+That's the point, old boy," said Mr. Fish earnestly. "She wasn't. We
+must get you out of this as quickly as possible, or before you know
+where you are you'll find yourself being murdered in your bed. It's
+this living in the country that does it. Six consecutive months in the
+country is enough to sap the intellect of anyone. Looking for swallows'
+nests, was he?"
+
+"So he said. And swallows don't nest in July. They nest in April."
+
+Mr. Fish nodded.
+
+"That's how I always heard the story," he agreed. "The whole thing
+looks very black to me, and the sooner you're safe out of this and in
+London, the better."
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+At about the same moment, Mr. Carmody was in earnest conference with
+Mr. Molloy.
+
+"That man you were telling me about," said Mr. Carmody. "That friend of
+yours who you said would help us."
+
+"Chimp?"
+
+"I believe you referred to him as Chimp. How soon could you get in
+touch with him?"
+
+"Right away, brother."
+
+Mr. Carmody objected to being called brother, but this was no time for
+being finicky.
+
+"Send for him at once."
+
+"Why, have you given up the idea of getting that stuff out of the house
+yourself?"
+
+"Entirely," said Mr. Carmody. He shuddered slightly. "I have been
+thinking the matter over very carefully, and I feel that this is an
+affair where we require the services of some third party. Where is this
+friend of yours? In London?"
+
+"No. He's right around the corner. His name's Twist. He runs a sort of
+health-farm place only a few miles from here."
+
+"God bless my soul! Healthward Ho?"
+
+"That's the spot. Do you know it?"
+
+"Why, I have only just returned from there."
+
+Mr. Molloy was conscious of a feeling of almost incredulous awe. It
+was the sort of feeling which would come to a man who saw miracles
+happening all around him. He could hardly believe that things could
+possibly run as smoothly as they appeared to be doing. He had
+anticipated a certain amount of difficulty in selling Chimp Twist to
+Mr. Carmody, as he phrased it to himself, and had looked forward with
+not a little apprehension to a searching inquisition into Chimp Twist's
+_bona fides_. And now, it seemed, Mr. Carmody knew Chimp personally and
+was, no doubt, prepared to receive him without a question. Could luck
+like this hold? That was the only thought that disturbed Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Well, isn't that interesting!" he said slowly. "So you know my old
+friend Twist, do you?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Carmody, speaking, however, as if the acquaintanceship
+were not one to which he looked back with any pleasure. "I know him
+very well."
+
+"Fine!" said Mr. Molloy. "You see, if I thought we were getting in
+somebody you knew nothing about and felt you couldn't trust, it would
+sort of worry me."
+
+Mr. Carmody made no comment on this evidence of his guest's nice
+feeling. He was meditating and did not hear it. What he was meditating
+on was the agreeable fact that money which he had been trying so vainly
+to recover from Doctor Twist would not be a dead loss after all. He
+could write if off as part of the working expenses of this little
+venture. He beamed happily at Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Healthward Ho is on the telephone," he said. "Go and speak to Doctor
+Twist now and ask him to come over here at once." He hesitated for a
+moment, then came bravely to a decision. After all, whatever the cost
+in petrol, oil, and depreciation of tires, it was for a good object.
+More working expenses. "I will send my car for him," he said.
+
+If you wish to accumulate, you must inevitably speculate, felt Mr.
+Carmody.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+
+                                   I
+
+The strange depression which had come upon Pat in the shop of Chas.
+Bywater did not yield, as these gray moods generally do, to the
+curative influence of time. The following morning found her as gloomy
+as ever--indeed, rather gloomier, for shortly after breakfast the
+_noblesse oblige_ spirit of the Wyverns had sent her on a reluctant
+visit to an old retainer who lived--if you could call it that--in one
+of the smaller and stuffier houses in Budd Street. Pensioned off after
+cooking for the Colonel for eighteen years, this female had retired
+to bed and stayed there, and there was a legend in the family, though
+neither by word nor look did she ever give any indication of it, that
+she enjoyed seeing Pat.
+
+Bedridden ladies of advanced age seldom bubble over with fun and _joie
+de vivre_. This one's attitude toward life seemed to have been borrowed
+from her favourite light reading, the works of the Prophet Jeremiah,
+and Pat, as she emerged into the sunshine after some eighty minutes of
+her society, was feeling rather like Jeremiah's younger sister.
+
+The sense of being in a world unworthy of her--a world cold and
+unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade of human being, had now
+become so oppressive that she was compelled to stop on her way home
+and linger on the old bridge which spanned the Skirme. From the days
+of her childhood this sleepy, peaceful spot had always been a haven
+when things went wrong. She was gazing down into the slow-moving water
+and waiting for it to exercise its old spell, when she heard her name
+spoken and turned to see Hugo.
+
+"What ho," said Hugo, pausing beside her. His manner was genial and
+unconcerned. He had not met her since that embarrassing scene in the
+lobby of the Hotel Lincoln, but he was a man on whom the memory of past
+embarrassments sat lightly. "What do you think you're doing, young Pat?"
+
+Pat found herself cheering up a little. She liked Hugo. The sense of
+being all alone in a bleak world left her.
+
+"Nothing in particular," she said. "Just looking at the water."
+
+"Which in its proper place," agreed Hugo, "is admirable stuff. I've
+been doing a bit of froth-blowing at the Carmody Arms. Also buying
+cigarettes and other necessaries. I say, have you heard about my Uncle
+Lester's brain coming unstuck? Absolutely. He's quite _non compos_.
+Mad as a coot. Belfry one seething mass of bats. He's taken to climbing
+ladders in the small hours after swallows' nests. However, shelving
+that for the moment, I'm very glad I ran into you this morning, young
+Pat. I wish to have a serious talk with you about old John."
+
+"John?"
+
+"John."
+
+"What about John?"
+
+At this moment there whirred past, bearing in its interior a weedy,
+snub-nosed man with a waxed moustache, a large red automobile. Hugo,
+suspending his remarks, followed it with astonished eyes.
+
+"Good Lord!"
+
+"What about Johnnie?"
+
+"That was the Dex-Mayo," said Hugo. "And the gargoyle inside was that
+blighter Twist from Healthward Ho. Great Scott! The car must have been
+over there to fetch him."
+
+"What's so remarkable about that?"
+
+"What's so remarkable?" echoed Hugo, astounded. "What's remarkable
+about Uncle Lester deliberately sending his car twenty miles to fetch
+a man who could have come, if he had to come at all, by train at his
+own expense? My dear old thing, it's revolutionary. It marks an epoch.
+Do you know what I think has happened? You remember that dynamite
+explosion in the park when Uncle Lester nearly got done in?"
+
+"I don't have much chance to forget it."
+
+"Well, what I believe has happened is that the shock he got that day
+has completely changed his nature. It's a well-known thing. You hear
+of such cases all the time. Ronnie Fish was telling me about one only
+yesterday. There was a man he knew in London, a money lender, a fellow
+who had a glass eye, and the only thing that enabled anyone to tell
+which of his eyes was which was that the glass one had rather a more
+human expression than the other. That's the sort of chap he was. Well,
+one day he was nearly konked in a railway accident, and he came out of
+hospital a different man. Slapped people on the back, patted children
+on the head, tore up I.O.U.'s, and talked about its being everybody's
+duty to make the world a better place. Take it from me, young Pat,
+Uncle Lester's whole nature has undergone some sort of rummy change
+like that. That swallow's nest business must have been a preliminary
+symptom. Ronnie tells me that this money lender with the glass eye...."
+
+Pat was not interested in glass-eyed money lenders.
+
+"What were you saying about John?"
+
+"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going home quick, so as to be
+among those present when he starts scattering the stuff. It's quite
+on the cards that I may scoop that five hundred yet. Once a tightwad
+starts seeing the light...."
+
+"You were saying something about John," said Pat, falling into step
+with him as he moved off. His babble irked her, making her wish that
+she could put the clock back a few years. Age, they say, has its
+compensations, but one of the drawbacks of becoming grown-up and
+sedate is that you have to abandon the childish practice of clumping
+your friends on the side of the head when they wander from the point.
+However, she was not too old to pinch her companion in the fleshy part
+of the arm, and she did so.
+
+"Ouch!" said Hugo, coming out of his trance.
+
+"What about John?"
+
+Hugo massaged his arm tenderly. The look of a greyhound pursuing an
+electric hare died out of his eyes.
+
+"Of course, yes. John. Glad you reminded me. Have you seen John lately?"
+
+"No. I'm not allowed to go to the Hall, and he seems too busy to come
+and see me."
+
+"It isn't so much being busy. Don't forget there's a war on. No doubt
+he's afraid of bumping into the parent."
+
+"If Johnnie's scared of Father...."
+
+"There's no need to speak in that contemptuous tone. I am, and there
+are few more intrepid men alive than Hugo Carmody. The old Colonel,
+believe me, is a tough baby. If I ever see him, I shall run like a
+rabbit, and my biographers may make of it what they will. You, being
+his daughter and having got accustomed to his ways, probably look on
+him as something quite ordinary and harmless, but even you will admit
+that he's got eyebrows which must be seen to be believed."
+
+"Oh, never mind Father's eyebrows. Go on about Johnnie."
+
+"Right ho. Well, then, look here, young Pat," said Hugo, earnestly,
+"in the interests of the aforesaid John, I want to ask you a favour. I
+understand he proposed to you that night at the Mustard Spoon."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And you slipped him the mitten."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Oh, don't think I'm blaming you," Hugo assured her. "If you don't
+want him, you don't. Nothing could be fairer than that. But what I'm
+asking you to do now is to keep clear of the poor chap. If you happen
+to run into him, that can't be helped, but be a sport and do your best
+to avoid him. Don't unsettle him. If you come buzzing round, stirring
+memories of the past and arousing thoughts of Auld Lang Syne and what
+not, that'll unsettle him. It'll take his mind off his job and ...
+well ... unsettle him. And, providing he isn't unsettled, I have strong
+hopes that we may get old John off this season. Do I make myself
+clear?"
+
+Pat kicked viciously at an inoffensive pebble, whose only fault was
+that it happened to be within reach at the moment.
+
+"I suppose what you're trying to break to me in your rambling,
+woollen-headed way is that Johnnie is mooning round that Molloy girl? I
+met her just now in Bywater's, and she told me she was staying at the
+Hall."
+
+"I wouldn't call it mooning," said Hugo thoughtfully, speaking like a
+man who is an expert in these matters and can appraise subtle values.
+"I wouldn't say it had quite reached the mooning stage yet. But I have
+hopes. You see, John is a bloke whom Nature intended for a married man.
+He's a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap who...."
+
+"You needn't go over all that again. I had the pleasure of hearing your
+views on the subject that night in the lobby of the hotel."
+
+"Oh, you did hear?" said Hugo, unabashed. "Well, don't you think I'm
+right?"
+
+"If you mean do I approve of Johnnie marrying Miss Molloy, I certainly
+do not."
+
+"But if you don't want him...."
+
+"It has nothing to do with my wanting him or not wanting him. I don't
+like Miss Molloy."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"She's flashy."
+
+"I would have said smart."
+
+"I wouldn't." Pat, with an effort, recovered a certain measure of calm.
+Wrangling, she felt, was beneath her. As she could not hit Hugo with
+the basket in which she had carried two pounds of tea, a bunch of
+roses, and a seed cake to her bedridden pensioner, the best thing to do
+was to preserve a ladylike composure. "Anyway, you're probably taking a
+lot for granted. Probably Johnnie isn't in the least attracted by her.
+Has he ever given any sign of it?"
+
+"Sign?" Hugo considered. "It depends what you mean by sign. You know
+what old John is. One of these strong, silent fellows who looks on all
+occasions like a stuffed frog."
+
+"He doesn't."
+
+"Pardon me," said Hugo firmly. "Have you ever seen a stuffed frog?
+Well, I have. I had one for years when I was a kid. And John has
+exactly the same power of expressing emotion. You can't go by what he
+says or the way he looks. You have to keep an eye out for much subtler
+bits of evidence. Now, last night he was explaining the rules of
+cricket to this girl, and answering all her questions on the subject,
+and, as he didn't at any point in the proceeding punch her on the
+nose, one is entitled to deduce, I consider, that he must be strongly
+attracted by her. Ronnie thinks so, too. So what I'm asking you to
+do...."
+
+"Good-bye," said Pat. They had reached the gate of the little drive
+that led to her house, and she turned sharply.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Good-bye."
+
+"But just a moment," insisted Hugo. "Will you...."
+
+At this point he stopped in mid-sentence and began to walk quickly up
+the road; and Pat, puzzled to conjecture the reason for so abrupt a
+departure, received illumination a moment later when she saw her father
+coming down the drive. Colonel Wyvern had been dealing murderously with
+snails in the shadow of a bush, and the expression on his face seemed
+to indicate that he would be glad to extend the treatment to Hugo.
+
+He gazed after that officious young man with a steely eye. The second
+post had arrived a short time before, and it had included among a
+number of bills and circulars a letter from his lawyer, in which the
+latter regretfully gave it as his opinion that an action against Mr.
+Lester Carmody in the matter of that dynamite business would not lie.
+To bring such an action would, in the judgment of Colonel Wyvern's
+lawyer, be a waste both of time and money.
+
+The communication was not calculated to sweeten the Colonel's
+temper, nor did the spectacle of his daughter in apparently pleasant
+conversation with one of the enemy help to cheer him up.
+
+"What are you talking about to that fellow?" he demanded. It was rare
+for Colonel Wyvern to be the heavy father, but there are times when
+heaviness in a father is excusable. "Where did you meet him?"
+
+His tone disagreeably affected Pat's already harrowed nerves, but she
+replied to the question equably.
+
+"I met him on the bridge. We were talking about John."
+
+"Well, kindly understand that I don't want you to hold any
+communication whatsoever with that young man or his cousin John or his
+infernal uncle or any of that Hall gang. Is that clear?"
+
+Her father was looking at her as if she were a snail which he had just
+found eating one of his lettuce leaves, but Pat still contrived with
+some difficulty to preserve a pale, saintlike calm.
+
+"Quite clear."
+
+"Very well, then."
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"I've known Johnnie fourteen years," said Pat in a small voice.
+
+"Quite long enough," grunted Colonel Wyvern.
+
+Pat walked on into the house and up the stairs to her room. There,
+having stamped on the basket and reduced it to a state where it would
+never again carry seed cake to ex-cooks, she sat on her bed and stared,
+dry-eyed, at her reflection in the mirror.
+
+What with Dolly Molloy and Hugo and her father, the whole aspect of
+John Carroll seemed to be changing for her. No longer was she able to
+think of him as Poor Old Johnnie. He had the glamour now of something
+unattainable and greatly to be desired. She looked back at a night,
+some centuries ago, when a fool of a girl had refused the offer of this
+superman's love, and shuddered to think what a mess of things girls can
+make.
+
+And she had no one to confide in. The only person who could have
+understood and sympathized with her was Hugo's glass-eyed money lender.
+He knew what it was to change one's outlook.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Mr. Alexander (Chimp) Twist stood with his shoulders against the
+mantelpiece in Mr. Carmody's study and, twirling his waxed moustache
+thoughtfully, listened with an expressionless face to Soapy Molloy's
+synopsis of the events which had led up to his being at the Hall
+that morning. Dolly reclined in a deep armchair. Mr. Carmody was not
+present, having stated that he would prefer to leave the negotiations
+entirely to Mr. Molloy.
+
+Through the open window the sounds and scents of summer poured in, but
+it is unlikely that Chimp Twist was aware of them. He was a man who
+believed in concentration, and his whole attention now was taken up by
+the remarkable facts which his old acquaintance and partner was placing
+before him.
+
+The latter's conversation on the telephone some two hours ago had left
+Chimp Twist with an open mind. He was hopeful, but cautiously hopeful.
+Soapy had insisted that there was a big thing on, but he had reserved
+his enthusiasm until he should learn the details. The thing, he felt,
+might seem big to Soapy, but to Alexander Twist no things were big
+things unless he could see in advance a substantial profit for A. Twist
+in them.
+
+Mr. Molloy, concluding his story, paused for reply. The visitor gave
+his moustache a final twist, and shook his head.
+
+"I don't get it," he said.
+
+Mrs. Molloy straightened herself militantly in her chair. Of all
+masculine defects, she liked slowness of wit least; and she had never
+been a great admirer of Mr. Twist.
+
+"You poor, nut-headed swozzie," she said with heat. "What don't you
+get? It's simple enough, isn't it? What's bothering you?"
+
+"There's a catch somewhere. Why isn't this guy Carmody able to sell the
+things?"
+
+"It's the law, you poor fish. Soapy explained all that."
+
+"Not to me he didn't," said Chimp. "A lot of words fluttered out of
+him, but they didn't explain anything to me. Do you mean to say there's
+a law in this country that says a man can't sell his own property?"
+
+"It isn't his own property." Dolly's voice was shrill with
+exasperation. "The things belong in the family and have to be kept
+there. Does that penetrate, or have we got to use a steam drill? Listen
+here. Old George W. Ancestor starts one of these English families
+going--way back in the year G.X. something. He says to himself, 'I
+can't last forever, and when I go then what? My son Freddie is a good
+boy, handy with the battle axe and okay at mounting his charger, but
+he's like all the rest of these kids--you can't keep him away from the
+hock shop as long as there's anything in the house he can raise money
+on. It begins to look like the moment I'm gone my collection of old
+antiques can kiss itself good-bye.' And then he gets an idea. He has a
+law passed saying that Freddie can use the stuff as long as he lives
+but he can't sell it. And Freddie, when his time comes, he hands the
+law on to his son Archibald, and so on, down the line till you get to
+this here now Carmody. The only way this Carmody can realize on all
+these things is to sit in with somebody who'll pinch them and then salt
+them away somewheres, so that after the cops are out of the house and
+all the fuss has quieted down they can get together and do a deal."
+
+Chimp's face cleared.
+
+"Now I'm hep," he said. "Now I see what you're driving at. Why couldn't
+Soapy have put it like that before? Well, then, what's the idea? I
+sneak in and swipe the stuff. Then what?"
+
+"You salt it away."
+
+"At Healthward Ho?"
+
+"No!" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"No!" said Mrs. Molloy.
+
+It would have been difficult to say which spoke with the greater
+emphasis, and the effect was to create a rather embarrassing silence.
+
+"It isn't that we don't trust you, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, when this
+silence had lasted some little time.
+
+"Oh?" said Mr. Twist, rather distantly.
+
+"It's simply that this bimbo Carmody naturally don't want the stuff to
+go out of the house. He wants it where he can keep an eye on it."
+
+"How are you going to pinch it without taking it out of the house?"
+
+"That's all been fixed. I was talking to him about it this morning
+after I 'phoned you. Here's the idea. You get the stuff and pack it
+away in a suitcase...."
+
+"Stuff that there's only enough of so's you can put it all in a
+suitcase is a hell of a lot of use to anyone," commented Mr. Twist
+disparagingly.
+
+Dolly clutched her temples. Mr. Molloy brushed his hair back from his
+forehead with a despairing gesture.
+
+"Sweet potatoes!" moaned Dolly. "Use your bean, you poor sap, use your
+bean. If you had another brain you'd just have one. A thing hasn't got
+to be the size of the Singer Building to be valuable, has it? I suppose
+if someone offered you a diamond you'd turn it down because it wasn't
+no bigger than a hen's egg."
+
+"Diamond?" Chimp brightened. "Are there diamonds?"
+
+"No, there aren't. But there's pictures and things, any one of them
+worth a packet. Go on, Soapy. Tell him."
+
+Mr. Molloy smoothed his hair and addressed himself to his task once
+more.
+
+"Well, it's like this, Chimpie," he said. "You put the stuff in a
+suitcase and you take it down into the hall where there's a closet
+under the stairs...."
+
+"We'll show you the closet," interjected Dolly.
+
+"Sure we'll show you the closet," said Mr. Molloy generously. "Well,
+you put the suitcase in this closet and you leave it lay there. The
+idea is that later on I give old man Carmody my cheque and he hands it
+over and we take it away."
+
+"He thinks Soapy owns a museum in America," explained Dolly. "He thinks
+Soapy's got all the money in the world."
+
+"Of course, long before the time comes for giving any cheques, we'll
+have got the stuff away."
+
+Mr. Chimp digested this.
+
+"Who's going to buy it when you do get it away?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, gee!" said Dolly. "You know as well as I do there's dozens of
+people on the other side who'll buy it."
+
+"And how are you going to get it away? If it's in a closet in Carmody's
+house and Carmody has the key...?"
+
+"Now there," said Mr. Molloy, with a deferential glance at his wife, as
+if requesting her permission to re-open a delicate subject, "the madam
+and I had a kind of an argument. I wanted to wait till a chance came
+along sort of natural, but Dolly's all for quick action. You know what
+women are. Impetuous."
+
+"If you'd care to know what we're going to do," said Mrs. Molloy
+definitely, "we're not going to hang around waiting for any chances to
+come along sort of natural. We're going to slip a couple of knock-out
+drops in old man Carmody's port one night after dinner and clear out
+with the stuff while...."
+
+"Knock-out drops?" said Chimp, impressed. "Have you got any knock-out
+drops?"
+
+"Sure we've got knock-out drops. Soapy never travels without them."
+
+"The madam always packs them in their little bottle first thing
+before even my clean collars," said Mr. Molloy proudly. "So you see,
+everything's all arranged, Chimpie."
+
+"Yeah?" said Mr. Twist, "and how about me?"
+
+"How do you mean, how about you?"
+
+"It seems to me," pointed out Mr. Twist, eyeing his business partner in
+rather an unpleasant manner with his beady little eyes, "that you're
+asking me to take a pretty big chance. While you're doping the old man
+I'll be twenty miles away at Healthward Ho. How am I to know you won't
+go off with the stuff and leave me to whistle for my share?"
+
+It is only occasionally that one sees a man who cannot believe his
+ears, but anybody who had been in Mr. Carmody's study at this moment
+would have been able to enjoy that interesting experience. A long
+moment of stunned and horrified amazement passed before Mr. Molloy was
+able to decide that he really had heard correctly.
+
+"Chimpie! You don't suppose we'd double-cross you?"
+
+"Ee-magine!" said Mrs. Molloy.
+
+"Well, mind you don't," said Mr. Twist coldly. "But you can't say I'm
+not taking a chance. And now, talking turkey for a moment, how do we
+share?"
+
+"Equal shares, of course, Chimpie."
+
+"You mean half for me and half for you and Dolly?"
+
+Mr. Molloy winced as if the mere suggestion had touched an exposed
+nerve.
+
+"No, no, no, Chimpie! You get a third, I get a third, and the madam
+gets a third."
+
+"Not on your life!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"Not on your life. What do you think I am?"
+
+"I don't know," said Mrs. Molloy acidly. "But, whatever it is, you're
+the only one of it."
+
+"Is that so?"
+
+"Yes, that is so."
+
+"Now, now, now," said Mr. Molloy, intervening. "Let's not get personal.
+I can't figure this thing out, Chimpie. I can't see where your kick
+comes in. You surely aren't suggesting that you should ought to have as
+much as I and the wife put together?"
+
+"No, I'm not. I'm suggesting I ought to have more."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Sixty-forty's my terms."
+
+A feverish cry rang through the room, a cry that came straight from a
+suffering heart. The temperamental Mrs. Molloy was very near the point
+past which a sensitive woman cannot be pushed.
+
+"Every time we get together on one of these jobs," she said, with deep
+emotion, "we always have this same fuss about the divvying up. Just
+when everything looks nice and settled you start this thing of trying
+to hand I and Soapy the nub end of the deal. What's the matter with you
+that you always want the earth? Be human, why can't you, you poor lump
+of Camembert."
+
+"I'm human all right."
+
+"You've got to prove it to me."
+
+"What makes you say I'm not human?"
+
+"Well, look in the glass and see for yourself," said Mrs. Molloy
+offensively.
+
+The pacific Mr. Molloy felt it time to call the meeting to order once
+more.
+
+"Now, now, now! All this isn't getting us anywheres. Let's stick to
+business. Where do you get that sixty-forty stuff, Chimp?"
+
+"I'll tell you where I get it. I'm going into this thing as a favour,
+aren't I? There's no need for me to sit in at this game at all, is
+there? I've got a good, flourishing, respectable business of my own,
+haven't I? A business that's on the level. Well, then."
+
+Dolly sniffed. Her husband's soothing intervention had failed signally
+to diminish her animosity.
+
+"I don't know what your idea was in starting that Healthward Ho
+joint," she said, "but I'll bet my diamond sunburst it isn't on the
+level."
+
+"Certainly it's on the level. A man with brains can always make a good
+living without descending to anything low and crooked. That's why I say
+that if I go into this thing it will simply be because I want to do a
+favour to two old friends."
+
+"Old what?"
+
+"Friends was what I said," repeated Mr. Twist. "If you don't like my
+terms, say so and we'll call the deal off. It'll be all right by me.
+I'll simply get along back to Healthward Ho and go on running my good,
+flourishing, respectable business. Come to think of it, I'm not any too
+solid on this thing, anyway. I was walking in my garden this morning
+and a magpie come up to me as close as that."
+
+Mrs. Molloy expressed the view that this was tough on the magpie, but
+wanted to know what the bird's misfortune in finding itself so close to
+Mr. Twist that it could not avoid taking a good, square look at him had
+to do with the case.
+
+"Well, I'm superstitious, same as everyone else. I saw the new moon
+through the glass, what's more."
+
+"Oh, stop stringing the beads and talk sense," said Dolly wearily.
+
+"I'm talking sense all right. Sixty per cent. or I don't come in. You
+wouldn't have asked me to come in if you could have done without me.
+Think I don't know that? Sixty's moderate. I'm doing all the hard work,
+aren't I?"
+
+"Hard work?" Dolly laughed bitterly. "Where do you get the idea it's
+going to be hard work? Everybody'll be out of the house on the night
+of this concert thing they're having down in the village, there'll be
+a window left open, and you'll just walk in and pack up the stuff. If
+that's hard, what's easy? We're simply handing you slathers of money
+for practically doing nothing."
+
+"Sixty," said Mr. Twist. "And that's my last word."
+
+"But, Chimpie ..." pleaded Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Sixty."
+
+"Have a heart!"
+
+"Sixty."
+
+"It isn't as though ..."
+
+"Sixty."
+
+Dolly threw up her hands despairingly.
+
+"Oh, give it him," she said. "He won't be happy if you don't. If a
+guy's middle name is Shylock, where's the use wasting time trying to do
+anything about it?"
+
+
+                                  III
+
+Mrs. Molloy's prediction that on the night of Rudge's annual dramatic
+and musical entertainment the Hall would be completely emptied of its
+occupants was not, as it happened, literally fulfilled. A wanderer
+through the stable yard at about the hour of ten would have perceived a
+light in an upper window: and had he taken the trouble to get a ladder
+and climb up and look in would have beheld John Carroll seated at his
+table, busy with a pile of accounts.
+
+In an age so notoriously avid of pleasure as the one in which we live
+it is rare to find a young man of such sterling character that he
+voluntarily absents himself from a village concert in order to sit at
+home and work: and, contemplating John, one feels quite a glow. It was
+not as if he had been unaware of what he was missing. The vicar, he
+knew, was to open the proceedings with a short address: the choir would
+sing old English glees: the Misses Vivien and Alice Pond-Pond were down
+on the programme for refined coon songs: and, in addition to other
+items too numerous and fascinating to mention, Hugo Carmody and his
+friend Mr. Fish would positively appear in person and render that noble
+example of Shakespeare's genius, the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_.
+Yet John Carroll sat in his room, working. England's future cannot be
+so dubious as the pessimists would have us believe while her younger
+generation is made of stuff like this.
+
+John was finding in his work these days a good deal of consolation.
+There is probably no better corrective of the pangs of hopeless love
+than real, steady application to the prosaic details of an estate. The
+heart finds it difficult to ache its hardest while the mind is busy
+with such items as Sixty-one pounds, eight shillings and fivepence, due
+to Messrs. Truby and Gaunt for Fixing Gas Engine, or the claim of the
+Country Gentlemen's Association for eight pounds eight and fourpence
+for seeds. Add drains, manure, and feed of pigs, and you find yourself
+immediately in an atmosphere where Romeo himself would have let his
+mind wander. John, as he worked, was conscious of a distinct easing of
+the strain which had been on him since his return to the Hall. And if
+at intervals he allowed his eyes to stray to the photograph of Pat on
+the mantelpiece, that was the sort of thing that might happen to any
+young man, and could not be helped.
+
+It was seldom that visitors penetrated to this room of his--indeed, he
+had chosen to live above the stables in preference to inside the house
+for this very reason, and on Rudge's big night he had looked forward to
+an unbroken solitude. He was surprised, therefore, as he checked the
+account of the Messrs. Vanderschoot & Son for bulbs, to hear footsteps
+on the stairs. A moment later, the door had opened and Hugo walked in.
+
+John's first impulse, as always when his cousin paid him a visit, was
+to tell him to get out. People who, when they saw Hugo, immediately
+told him to get out generally had the comfortable feeling that they
+were doing the right and sensible thing. But to-night there was in his
+demeanour something so crushed and forlorn that John had not the heart
+to pursue this admirable policy.
+
+"Hullo," he said. "I thought you were down at the concert."
+
+Hugo uttered a short, bitter laugh, and, sinking into a chair, stared
+bleakly before him. His eyelids, like those of the Mona Lisa, were a
+little weary. He looked like the hero of a Russian novel debating the
+advisability of murdering a few near relations before hanging himself
+in the barn.
+
+"I was," he said. "Oh yes, I was down at the concert all right."
+
+"Have you done your bit already?"
+
+"I have. They put Ronnie and me on just after the Vicar's Short
+Address."
+
+"Wanted to get the worst over quick, eh?"
+
+Hugo raised a protesting hand. There was infinite sadness in the
+gesture.
+
+"Don't mock, John. Don't jeer. Don't jibe and scoff. I'm a broken man."
+
+"Only cracked, I should have said."
+
+Hugo was not attuned to cousinly badinage. He frowned austerely.
+
+"Less back-chat," he begged. "I came here for sympathy. And a drink.
+Have you got anything to drink?"
+
+"There's some whisky in that cupboard."
+
+Hugo heaved himself from the chair, looking more Russian than ever.
+John watched his operations with some concern.
+
+"Aren't you mixing it pretty strong?"
+
+"I need it strong." The unhappy man emptied his glass, refilled it, and
+returned to the chair. "In fact, it's a point verging very much on the
+moot whether I ought to have put any water in it at all."
+
+"What's the trouble?"
+
+"This isn't bad whisky," said Hugo, becoming a little brighter.
+
+"I know it isn't. What's the matter?"
+
+The momentary flicker of cheerfulness died out. Gloom once more claimed
+Hugo for its own.
+
+"John, old man," he said. "We got the bird."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Don't say 'Yes?' like that, as if you had expected it," said Hugo,
+hurt. "The thing came on me as a stunning blow. I was amazed.
+Astounded. Absolutely nonplussed."
+
+"Could I have knocked you down with a feather?"
+
+"I thought we were going to be a riot. Of course, mind you, we came on
+much too early. It was criminal to bill us next to opening. An audience
+needs careful warming up for an intellectual act like ours!"
+
+"What happened?"
+
+Hugo rose and renewed the contents of his glass.
+
+"There is a spirit creeping into the life of Rudge-in-the-Vale," he
+said, "which I don't like to see. A spirit of lawlessness and licence.
+Disruptive influences are at work. Bolshevik propaganda, I shouldn't
+wonder. Would a Rudge audience have given me the bird a few years ago?
+Not a chance!"
+
+"But you've never tried them with the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_
+before. Everybody has a breaking point."
+
+The argument was specious, but Hugo shook his head.
+
+"In the good old days I could have done Hamlet's Soliloquy, and
+the hall would have rung with hearty cheers. It's just this modern
+lawlessness and Bolshevism. There was a very tough collection of the
+Budd Street element standing at the back, who should never have been
+let in. They started straight away chi-yiking the vicar during his
+short address. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I merely
+supposed that they wanted him to cheese it and let the entertainment
+start. I thought that directly Ronnie and I came on we should grip
+them. But we were barely a third of the way through when there were
+loud cries of 'Tripe!' and 'Get off!'"
+
+"I see what that meant. You hadn't gripped them."
+
+"I was never so surprised in my life. Mark you, I'll admit that
+Ronnie was perfectly rotten. He kept foozling his lines and saying
+'Oh, sorry!' and going back and repeating them. You can't get the
+best out of Shakespeare that way. The fact is, poor old Ronnie is
+feeling a little low just now. He got a letter this morning from his
+man, Bessemer, in London, a fellow who has been with him for years
+and has few equals as a trouser presser, springing the news out of an
+absolutely clear sky that he's been secretly engaged for weeks and is
+just going to get married and leave Ronnie. Naturally, it has upset the
+poor chap badly. With a thing like that on his mind, he should never
+have attempted an exacting part like Brutus in the Quarrel Scene."
+
+"Just what the audience thought, apparently. What happened after that?"
+
+"Well, we buzzed along as well as we could, and we had just got to that
+bit about digesting the venom of your spleen though it do split you,
+when the proletariat suddenly started bunging vegetables."
+
+"Vegetables?"
+
+"Turnips, mostly, as far as I could gather. Now, do you see the
+significance of that, John?"
+
+"How do you mean, the significance?"
+
+"Well, obviously these blighters had come prepared. They had meant to
+make trouble right along. If not, why would they have come to a concert
+with their pockets bulging with turnips?"
+
+"They probably knew by instinct that they would need them."
+
+"No! It was simply this bally Bolshevism one reads so much about."
+
+"You think these men were in the pay of Moscow?"
+
+"I shouldn't wonder. Well, that took us off. Ronnie got rather a beefy
+whack on the side of the head and exited rapidly. And I wasn't going to
+stand out there doing the Quarrel Scene by myself, so I exited, too.
+The last I saw, Chas. Bywater had gone on and was telling Irish dialect
+stories with a Swedish accent."
+
+"Did they throw turnips at him?"
+
+"Not one. That's the sinister part of it. That's what makes me so sure
+the thing was an organized outbreak and all part of this Class War you
+hear about. Chas. Bywater, in spite of the fact that his material was
+blue round the edges, goes like a breeze, and gets off without a single
+turnip, whereas Ronnie and I ... well," said Hugo, a hideous grimness
+in his voice, "this has settled one thing. I've performed for the last
+time for Rudge-in-the-Vale. Next year when they may come to me, and
+plead with me to help out with the programme, I shall reply, 'Not after
+what has occurred!' Well, thanks for the drink. I'll be buzzing along."
+Hugo rose and wandered somnambulistically to the table. "What are you
+doing?"
+
+"Working."
+
+"Working?"
+
+"Yes, working."
+
+"What at?"
+
+"Accounts. Stop fiddling with those papers, curse you."
+
+"What's this thing?"
+
+"That," said John, removing it from his listless grasp and putting it
+out of reach in a drawer, "is the diagram of a thing called an Alpha
+Separator. It works by centrifugal force and can separate two thousand
+seven hundred and twenty-four quarts of milk in an hour. It has also
+a Holstein butter-churner attachment, and a boiler which at seventy
+degrees centigrade destroys the obligatory and optional bacteria."
+
+"Yes?
+
+"Positively."
+
+"Oh? Well, damn it, anyway," said Hugo.
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+Hugo crossed the strip of gravel which lay between the stable yard and
+the house, and, having found in his trouser pocket the key of the back
+door, proceeded to let himself in. His objective was the dining room.
+He was feeling so much better after the refreshment of which he had
+just partaken that reason told him he had found the right treatment for
+his complaint. A few more swift ones from the cellarette in the dining
+room and the depression caused by the despicable behaviour of the Budd
+Street Bolshevists might possibly leave him altogether.
+
+The passage leading to his goal was in darkness, but he moved steadily
+forward. Occasionally a chair would dart from its place to crack him
+over the shin, but he was not to be kept from the cellarette by trifles
+like that. Soon his fingers were on the handle of the door, and he
+flung it open and entered. And it was at this moment that there came to
+his ears an odd noise.
+
+It was not the noise itself that was odd. Feet scraping on gravel
+always make that unmistakable sound. What impressed itself on Hugo
+as curious was the fact that on the gravel outside the dining-room
+window, feet at this hour should be scraping at all. His hand had been
+outstretched to switch on the light, but now he paused. He waited,
+listening. And presently in the oblong of the middle of the three large
+windows he saw dimly against the lesser darkness outside a human body.
+It was insinuating itself through the opening and what Hugo felt about
+it was that he liked its dashed nerve.
+
+Hugo Carmody was no poltroon. Both physically and morally he possessed
+more than the normal store of courage. At Cambridge he had boxed for
+his university in the light-weight division and once, in London, the
+petty cash having run short, he had tipped a hat-check boy with an
+aspirin tablet. Moreover, although it was his impression that the few
+drops of whisky which he had drunk in John's room had but scratched
+the surface, their effect in reality had been rather pronounced. "In
+some diatheses," an eminent physician has laid down, "whisky is not
+immediately pathogenic. In other cases the spirit in question produces
+marked cachexia." Hugo's cachexia was very marked indeed. He would
+have resented keenly the suggestion that he was fried, boiled, or even
+sozzled, but he was unquestionably in a definite condition of cachexia.
+
+In a situation, accordingly, in which many householders might have
+quailed, he was filled with gay exhilaration. He felt able and willing
+to chew the head off any burglar that ever packed a centrebit. Glowing
+with cachexia and the spirit of adventure, he switched on the light
+and found himself standing face to face with a small, weedy man beneath
+whose snub nose there nestled a waxed moustache.
+
+"Stand ho!" said Hugo jubilantly, falling at once into the vein of the
+Quarrel Scene.
+
+In the bosom of the intruder many emotions were competing for
+precedence, but jubilation was not one of them. If Mr. Twist had had
+a weak heart, he would by now have been lying on the floor breathing
+his last, for few people can ever have had a nastier shock. He stood
+congealed, blinking at Hugo.
+
+Hugo, meanwhile, had made the interesting discovery that it was no
+stranger who stood before him but an old acquaintance.
+
+"Great Scot!" he exclaimed. "Old Doc. Twist! The beautiful,
+tranquil-thoughts bird!" He chuckled joyously. His was a retentive
+memory, and he could never forget that this man had once come within an
+ace of ruining that big deal in cigarettes over at Healthward Ho, and
+had also callously refused to lend him a tenner. Of such a man he could
+believe anything, even that he combined with the duties of a physical
+culture expert a little housebreaking and burglary on the side. "Well,
+well, well!" said Hugo. "Remember March, the Ides of March remember!
+Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his
+body that did stab and not for justice? Answer me that, you blighter,
+yes or no."
+
+Chimp Twist licked his lips nervously. He was a little uncertain as to
+the exact import of his companion's last words, but almost any words
+would have found in him at this moment a distrait listener.
+
+"Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes!" said Hugo.
+
+Chimp could have done the same. With an intense bitterness he was
+regretting that he had ever allowed Mr. Molloy to persuade him into
+this rash venture. But he was a man of resource. He made an effort to
+mend matters. Soapy, in a similar situation, would have done it better,
+but Chimp, though not possessing his old friend's glib tongue and
+insinuating manners, did the best he could. "You startled me," he said,
+smiling a sickly smile.
+
+"I bet I did," agreed Hugo cordially.
+
+"I came to see your uncle."
+
+"You what?"
+
+"I came to see your uncle."
+
+"Twist, you lie! And, what is more, you lie in your teeth."
+
+"Now, see here...!" began Chimp, with a feeble attempt at belligerence.
+
+Hugo checked him with a gesture.
+
+"There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am armed so
+strong in honesty that they pass by me like the idle wind, which I
+respect not. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be
+frightened when a madman stares? By the gods, you shall digest the
+venom of your spleen though it do split you. And what could be fairer
+than that?" said Hugo.
+
+Mr. Twist was discouraged, but he persevered.
+
+"I guess it looked funny to you, seeing me come in through a window.
+But, you see, I rang the front door bell and couldn't seem to make
+anyone hear."
+
+"Away, slight man!"
+
+"You want me to go away?" said Mr. Twist, with a gleam of hope.
+
+"You stay where you are, unless you'd like me to lean a decanter of the
+best port up against your head," said Hugo. "And don't flicker," he
+added, awakening to another grievance against this unpleasant little
+man.
+
+"Don't what?" inquired Mr. Twist, puzzled but anxious to oblige.
+
+"Flicker. Your outline keeps wobbling, and I don't like it. And there's
+another thing about you that I don't like. I've forgotten what it is
+for the moment, but it'll come back to me soon."
+
+He frowned darkly: and for the first time it was borne in upon Mr.
+Twist that his young host was not altogether himself. There was a gleam
+in his eyes which, in Mr. Twist's opinion, was far too wild to be
+agreeable.
+
+"I know," said Hugo, having reflected. "It's your moustache."
+
+"My moustache?"
+
+"Or whatever it is that's broken out on your upper lip. I dislike it
+intensely. When Cæsar lived," said Hugo querulously, "he durst not thus
+have moved me. And the worst thing of all is that you should have taken
+a quiet, harmless country house and called it such a beastly, repulsive
+name as Healthward Ho. Great Scot!" exclaimed Hugo. "I knew there was
+something I was forgetting. All this while you ought to have been doing
+bending and stretching exercises!"
+
+"Your uncle, I guess, is still down at the concert thing in the
+village?" said Mr. Twist, weakly endeavouring to change the
+conversation.
+
+Hugo started. A look of the keenest suspicion flashed into his eyes.
+
+"Were you at that concert?" he said sternly.
+
+"Me? No."
+
+"Are you sure, Twist? Look me in the face."
+
+"I've never been near any concert."
+
+"I strongly suspect you," said Hugo, "of being one of the ringleaders
+in that concerted plot to give me the bird. I think I recognized you."
+
+"Not me."
+
+"You're sure?"
+
+"Sure."
+
+"Oh? Well, that doesn't alter the cardinal fact that you are the
+bloke who makes poor, unfortunate fat men do bending and stretching
+exercises. So do a few now yourself."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Bend!" said Hugo. "Stretch!"
+
+"Stretch?"
+
+"And bend," said Hugo, insisting on full measure. "First bend, then
+stretch. Let me see your chest expand and hear the tinkle of buttons as
+you burst your waistcoat asunder."
+
+Mr. Twist was now definitely of opinion that the gleam in the young
+man's eyes was one of the most unpleasant and menacing things he had
+ever encountered. Transferring his gaze from this gleam to the other's
+well-knit frame, he decided that he was in the presence of one who,
+whether his singular request was due to weakness of intellect or to
+alcohol, had best be humoured.
+
+"Get on with it," said Hugo.
+
+He settled himself in a chair and lighted a cigarette. His whole
+manner was suggestive of the blasé nonchalance of a sultan about to
+be entertained by the court acrobat. But, though his bearing was
+nonchalant, that gleam was still in his eyes, and Chimp Twist hesitated
+no longer. He bent, as requested--and then, having bent, stretched. For
+some moments he jerked his limbs painfully in this direction and in
+that, while Hugo, puffing smoke, surveyed him with languid appreciation.
+
+"Now tie yourself into a reefer knot," said Hugo.
+
+Chimp gritted his teeth. A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering
+happier things, and there came back to him the recollection of mornings
+when he had stood at his window and laughed heartily at the spectacle
+of his patients at Healthward Ho being hounded on to these very
+movements by the vigilant Sergeant Flannery. How little he had supposed
+that there would ever come a time when he would be compelled himself to
+perform these exercises. And how little he had guessed at the hideous
+discomfort which they could cause to a man who had let his body muscles
+grow stiff.
+
+"Wait," said Hugo, suddenly.
+
+Mr. Twist was glad to do so. He straightened himself, breathing heavily.
+
+"Are you thinking beautiful thoughts?"
+
+Chimp Twist gulped. "Yes," he said, with a strong effort.
+
+"Beautiful, tranquil thoughts?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then carry on."
+
+Chimp resumed his calisthenics. He was aching in every joint now, but
+into his discomfort there had shot a faint gleam of hope. Everything in
+this world has its drawbacks and its advantages. With the drawbacks to
+his present situation he had instantly become acquainted, but now at
+last one advantage presented itself to his notice--the fact, to wit,
+that the staggerings and totterings inseparable from a performance
+of the kind with which he was entertaining his limited but critical
+audience had brought him very near to the open window.
+
+"How are the thoughts?" asked Hugo. "Still beautiful?"
+
+Chimp said they were, and he spoke sincerely. He had contrived to put
+a space of several feet between himself and his persecutor, and the
+window gaped invitingly almost at his side.
+
+"Yours," said Hugo, puffing smoke meditatively, "has been a very happy
+life, Twist. Day after day you have had the privilege of seeing my
+uncle Lester doing just what you're doing now, and it must have beaten
+a circus hollow. It's funny enough even when you do it, and you haven't
+anything like his personality and appeal. If you could see what a
+priceless ass you look it would keep you giggling for weeks. I know,"
+said Hugo, receiving an inspiration; "do the one where you touch your
+toes without bending the knees."
+
+In all human affairs the semblance of any given thing is bound to vary
+considerably with the point of view. To Chimp Twist, as he endeavoured
+to comply with this request, it seemed incredible that what he was
+doing could strike anyone as humorous. To Hugo, on the other hand,
+it appeared as if the entertainment had now reached its apex of
+wholesome fun. As Mr. Twist's purple face came up for the third time,
+he abandoned himself whole-heartedly to mirth. He rocked in his chair,
+and, rashly trying to inhale cigarette smoke at the same time, found
+himself suddenly overcome by a paroxysm of coughing.
+
+It was the moment for which Chimp Twist had been waiting. There is,
+as Ronnie Fish would have observed in the village hall an hour or so
+earlier if the audience had had the self-restraint to let him get as
+far as that, a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood,
+leads on to fortune. Chimp did not neglect the opportunity which
+Fate had granted him. With an agile bound he was at the window, and,
+rendered supple, no doubt, by his recent exercises, leaped smartly
+through it.
+
+He descended heavily on the dog Emily. Emily, wandering out for a
+last stroll before turning in, had just paused beneath the window to
+investigate a smell which had been called to her attention on the
+gravel. She was trying to make up her mind whether it was rats or the
+ghost of a long-lost bone when the skies suddenly started raining heavy
+bodies on her.
+
+
+                                   V
+
+Emily was a dog who, as a rule, took things as they came, her guiding
+motto in life being the old Horatian _nil admirari_, but she could
+lose her poise. She lost it now. A startled oath escaped her, and
+for a brief instant she was completely unequal to the situation. In
+this instant, Chimp, equally startled but far too busy to stop, had
+disengaged himself and was vanishing into the darkness.
+
+A moment later Hugo came through the window. His coughing fit had spent
+itself, and he was now in good voice again. He was shouting.
+
+At once Emily became herself again. All her sporting blood stirred in
+answer to these shouts. She forgot her agony. Her sense of grievance
+left her. Recognizing Hugo, she saw all things clearly, and realized
+in a flash that here at last was the burglar for whom she had been
+waiting ever since her conversation with that wire-haired terrier over
+at Webleigh Manor.
+
+John had taken her to lunch there one day and, fraternizing with
+the Webleigh dog under the table, she had immediately noticed in
+his manner something aloof and distinctly patronizing. It had then
+come out in conversation that they had had a burglary at the Manor
+a couple of nights ago, and the wire-haired terrier, according to
+his own story, had been the hero of the occasion. He spoke with an
+ill-assumed offhandedness of barking and bitings and chasings in the
+night, and, though he did not say it in so many words, gave Emily
+plainly to understand that it took an unusual dog to grapple with such
+a situation, and that in a similar crisis she herself would inevitably
+be found wanting. Ever since that day she had been longing for a chance
+to show her mettle, and now it had come. Calling instructions in a high
+voice, she raced for the bushes into which Chimp had disappeared. Hugo,
+a bad third, brought up the rear of the procession.
+
+Chimp, meanwhile, had been combining with swift movement some very
+rapid thinking. Fortune had been with him in the first moments of this
+dash for safety, but now, he considered, it had abandoned him, and he
+must trust to his native intelligence to see him through. He had not
+anticipated dogs. Dogs altered the whole complexion of the affair. To
+a go-as-you-please race across country with Hugo he would have trusted
+himself, but Hugo in collaboration with a dog was another matter. It
+became now a question not of speed but of craft; and he looked about
+him, as he ran, for a hiding place, for some shelter from this canine
+and human storm which he had unwittingly aroused.
+
+And Fortune, changing sides again, smiled upon him once more. Emily,
+who had been coming nicely, attempted very injudiciously at this
+moment to take a short cut and became involved in a bush. And Chimp,
+accelerating an always active brain, perceived a way out. There was a
+low stone wall immediately in front of him, and beyond it, as he came
+up, he saw the dull gleam of water.
+
+It was not an ideal haven, but he was in no position to pick and
+choose. The interior of the tank from which the gardeners drew
+ammunition for their watering cans had, for one who from childhood had
+always disliked bathing, a singularly repellent air. Those dark, oily
+looking depths suggested the presence of frogs, newts, and other slimy
+things that work their way down a man's back and behave clammily around
+his spine. But it was most certainly a place of refuge.
+
+He looked over his shoulder. An agitated crackling of branches
+announced that Emily had not yet worked clear, and Hugo had apparently
+stopped to render first aid. With a silent shudder Chimp stepped into
+the tank and, lowering himself into the depths, nestled behind a water
+lily.
+
+Hugo was finding the task of extricating Emily more difficult than he
+had anticipated. The bush was one of those thorny, adhesive bushes, and
+it twined itself lovingly in Emily's hair. Bad feeling began to rise,
+and the conversation took on an acrimonious tone.
+
+"Stand still!" growled Hugo. "Stand still, you blighter dog."
+
+"Push," retorted Emily. "Push, I tell you! Push, not pull. Don't you
+realize that all the while we're wasting time here that fellow's
+getting away?"
+
+"Don't wriggle, confound you. How can I get you out if you keep
+wriggling?"
+
+"Try a lift in an upward direction. No, that's no good. Stop pushing
+and pull. Pull, I tell you. Pull not push. Now, when I say '_To_
+you ...'"
+
+Something gave. Hugo staggered back. Emily sprang from his grasp. The
+chase was on again.
+
+But now all the zest had gone out of it. The operations in the bush
+had occupied only a bare couple of minutes, but they had been enough
+to allow the quarry to vanish. He had completely disappeared. Hugo,
+sitting on the wall of the tank and trying to recover his breath,
+watched Emily as she darted to and fro, inspecting paths and drawing
+shrubberies, and knew that he had failed. It was a bitter moment, and
+he sat and smoked moodily. Presently even Emily gave the thing up. She
+came back to where Hugo sat, her tongue lolling, and disgust written
+all over her expressive features. There was a silence. Emily thought
+it was all Hugo's fault, Hugo thought it was Emily's. A stiffness had
+crept into their relations once again, and when at length Hugo, feeling
+a little more benevolent after three cigarettes, reached down and
+scratched Emily's head, the latter drew away coldly.
+
+"Damn fool!" she said.
+
+Hugo started. Was it some sound, some distant stealthy footstep, that
+had caused his companion to speak? He stared into the night.
+
+"Fat head!" said Emily. "Can't even pull somebody out of a bush."
+
+She laughed mirthlessly, and Hugo, now keenly on the alert, rose from
+his seat and gazed this way and that. And then, moving softly away from
+him at the end of the path, he saw a dark figure.
+
+Instantly, Hugo Carmody became once more the man of action. With a
+stern shout he dashed along the path. And he had not gone half a dozen
+feet when the ground seemed suddenly to give way under him.
+
+This path, as he should have remembered, knowing the terrain as he
+did, was a terrace path, set high above the shrubberies below. It was
+a simple enough matter to negotiate it in daylight and at a gentle
+stroll, but to race successfully along it in the dark required a
+Blondin. Hugo's third stride took him well into the abyss. He clutched
+out desperately, grasped only cool Worcestershire night air, and then,
+rolling down the slope, struck his head with great violence against a
+tree which seemed to have been put there for the purpose.
+
+When the sparks had cleared away and the firework exhibition was over,
+he rose painfully to his feet.
+
+A voice was speaking from above--the voice of Ronald Overbury Fish.
+
+"Hullo!" said the voice. "What's up?"
+
+
+                                  VI
+
+Weighed down by the burden of his many sorrows, Ronnie Fish had come
+to this terrace path to be alone. Solitude was what he desired, and
+solitude was what he supposed he had got until, abruptly, without any
+warning but a wild shout, the companion of his school and university
+days had suddenly dashed out from empty space and apparently attempted
+to commit suicide. Ronnie was surprised. Naturally no fellow likes
+getting the bird at a village concert, but Hugo, he considered, in
+trying to kill himself was adopting extreme measures. He peered down,
+going so far in his natural emotion as to remove the cigarette holder
+from his mouth.
+
+"What's up?" he asked again.
+
+Hugo was struggling dazedly up the bank.
+
+"Was that you, Ronnie?"
+
+"Was what me?"
+
+"That."
+
+"Which?"
+
+Hugo approached the matter from another angle.
+
+"Did you see anyone?"
+
+"When?"
+
+"Just now. I thought I saw someone on the path. It must have been you."
+
+"It was. Why?"
+
+"I thought it was somebody else."
+
+"Well, it wasn't."
+
+"I know, but I thought it was."
+
+"Who did you think it was?"
+
+"A fellow called Twist."
+
+"Twist?"
+
+"Yes, Twist."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I've been chasing him."
+
+"Chasing Twist?"
+
+"Yes. I caught him burgling the house."
+
+They had been walking along, and now reached a spot where the light,
+freed from overhanging branches, was stronger. Mr. Fish became aware
+that his friend had sustained injuries.
+
+"I say," he said, "you've hurt your head."
+
+"I know I've hurt my head, you silly ass."
+
+"It's bleeding, I mean."
+
+"Bleeding?"
+
+"Bleeding."
+
+Blood is always interesting. Hugo put a hand to his wound, took it away
+again, inspected it.
+
+"By Jove! I'm bleeding."
+
+"Yes, bleeding. You'd better go in and have it seen to."
+
+"Yes," Hugo reflected. "I'll go and get old John to fix it. He once put
+six stitches in a cow."
+
+"What cow?"
+
+"One of the cows. I forget its name."
+
+"Where do we find this John?"
+
+"He's in his room over the stables."
+
+"Can you walk it all right?"
+
+"Oh yes, rather,"
+
+Ronnie, relieved, lighted a cigarette, and approached an aspect of the
+affair which had been giving him food for thought.
+
+"I say, Hugo, have you been having a few drinks or anything?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, buzzing about the place after non-existent burglars."
+
+"They weren't non-existent. I tell you I caught this man Twist...."
+
+"How do you know it was Twist?"
+
+"I've met him."
+
+"Who? Twist?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"He runs a place called Healthward Ho near here."
+
+"What's Healthward Ho?"
+
+"It's a place where fellows go to get fit. My uncle was there."
+
+"And Twist runs it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you think this--dash it, this pillar of society was burgling the
+house?"
+
+"I caught him, I tell you."
+
+"Who? Twist?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, where is he, then?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Listen, old man," said Ronnie gently. "I think you'd better be pushing
+along and getting that bulb of yours repaired."
+
+He remained gazing after his friend, as he disappeared in the direction
+of the stable yard, with much concern. He hated to think of good old
+Hugo getting into a mental state like this, though, of course, it was
+only what you could expect if a man lived in the country all the time.
+He was still brooding when he heard footsteps behind him and looked
+round and saw Mr. Lester Carmody approaching.
+
+Mr. Carmody was in a condition which in a slimmer man might have
+been called fluttering. He, like John, had absented himself from the
+festivities in the village, wishing to be on the spot when Mr. Twist
+made his entry into the house. He had seen Chimp get through the
+dining-room window and had instantly made his way to the front hall,
+proposing to wait there and see the precious suitcase duly deposited
+in the cupboard under the stairs. He had waited, but no Chimp had
+appeared. And then there had come to his ears barkings and shoutings
+and uproar in the night. Mr. Carmody, like Othello, was perplexed in
+the extreme.
+
+"Ah, Carmody," said Mr. Fish.
+
+He waved a kindly cigarette holder at his host. The latter regarded
+him with tense apprehension. Was his guest about to announce that
+Mr. Twist, caught in the act, was now under lock and key? For some
+reason or other, it was plain, Hugo and this unspeakable friend of his
+had returned at an unexpectedly early hour from the village, and Mr.
+Carmody feared the worst.
+
+"I've got a bit of bad news for you, Carmody," said Mr. Fish. "Brace
+up, my dear fellow."
+
+Mr. Carmody gulped.
+
+"What--what--what...."
+
+"Poor old Hugo. Gone clean off his mental axis."
+
+"What! What do you mean?"
+
+"I found him just now running round in circles and dashing his head
+against trees. He said he was chasing a burglar. Of course there wasn't
+anything of the sort on the premises. For, mark this, my dear Carmody:
+according to his statement, which I carefully checked, the burglar was
+a most respectable fellow named Twist, who runs a sort of health place
+near here. You know him, I believe?"
+
+"Slightly," said Mr. Carmody. "Slightly."
+
+"Well, would a man in that position go about burgling houses? Pure
+delusion, of course."
+
+Mr. Carmody breathed a deep sigh. Relief had made him feel a little
+faint.
+
+"Undoubtedly," he said. "Hugo was always weak-minded from a boy."
+
+"By the way," said Mr. Fish, "did you by any chance get up at five in
+the morning the other day and climb a ladder to look for swallows'
+nests?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"I thought as much. Hugo said he saw you. Delusion again. The whole
+truth of the matter is, my dear Carmody, living in the country has
+begun to soften poor old Hugo's brain. You must act swiftly. You don't
+want a gibbering nephew about the place. Take my tip and send him away
+to London at the earliest possible moment."
+
+It was rare for Lester Carmody to feel gratitude for the advice
+which this young man gave him so freely, but he was grateful now. He
+perceived clearly that a venture like the one on which he and his
+colleagues had embarked should never have been undertaken while the
+house was full of infernal, interfering young men. Such was his emotion
+that for an instant he almost liked Mr. Fish.
+
+"Hugo was saying that you wished him to become your partner in some
+commercial enterprise," he said.
+
+"A night club. The Hot Spot. Situated just off Bond Street, in the
+heart of London's pleasure-seeking area."
+
+"You were going to give him a half share for five hundred pounds, I
+believe?"
+
+"Five hundred was the figure."
+
+"He shall have the cheque immediately," said Mr. Carmody. "I will go
+and write it now. And to-morrow you shall take him to London. The best
+trains are in the morning. I quite agree with you about his mental
+condition. I am very much obliged to you for drawing it to my notice."
+
+"Don't mention it, Carmody," said Mr. Fish graciously. "Only too glad,
+my dear fellow. Always a pleasure, always a pleasure."
+
+
+                                  VII
+
+John had returned to his work and was deep in it when Hugo and his
+wounded head crossed his threshold. He was startled and concerned.
+
+"Good heavens!" he cried. "What's been happening?"
+
+"Fell down a bank and bumped the old lemon against a tree," said Hugo,
+with the quiet pride of a man who has had an accident. "I looked in to
+see if you had got some glue or something to stick it up with."
+
+John, as became one who thought nothing of putting stitches in cows,
+exhibited a cool efficiency. He bustled about, found water and cotton
+wool and iodine, and threw in sympathy as a make-weight. Only when the
+operation was completed did he give way to a natural curiosity.
+
+"How did it happen?"
+
+"Well, it started when I found that bounder Twist burgling the house."
+
+"Twist?"
+
+"Yes. Twist. The Healthward Ho bird."
+
+"You found Doctor Twist burgling the house?"
+
+"Yes, and I made him do bending and stretching exercises. And in the
+middle he legged it through the window, and Emily and I chivvied him
+about the garden. Then he disappeared, and I saw him again at the end
+of that path above the shrubberies, and I dashed after him and took a
+toss and it wasn't Twist at all, it was Ronnie."
+
+John forbore to ask further questions. This incoherent tale satisfied
+him that his cousin, if not delirious, was certainly on the borderland.
+He remembered the whole-heartedness with which Hugo had drowned his
+sorrows only a short while back in this very room, and he was satisfied
+that what the other needed was rest.
+
+"You'd better go to bed," he said. "I think I've fixed you up pretty
+well, but perhaps you had better see the doctor to-morrow."
+
+"Doc. Twist?"
+
+"No, not Doctor Twist," said John soothingly. "Doctor Bain, down in the
+village."
+
+"Something ought to be done about the man Twist," argued Hugo.
+"Somebody ought to pop it across him."
+
+"If I were you I'd just forget all about Twist. Put him right out of
+your mind."
+
+"But are we going to sit still and let perishers with waxed moustaches
+burgle the house whenever they feel inclined and not do a thing to
+bring their gray hairs in sorrow to the grave?"
+
+"I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, I'd just go off and have a
+nice long sleep."
+
+Hugo raised his eyebrows, and, finding that the process caused
+exquisite agony to his wounded head, quickly lowered them again. He
+looked at John with cold disapproval, pained at this evidence of
+supineness in a member of a proud family.
+
+"Oh?" he said. "Well, bung--oh, then!"
+
+"Good night."
+
+"Give my love to the Alpha Separator and all the little Separators."
+
+"I will," said John.
+
+He accompanied his cousin down the stairs and out into the stable yard.
+Having watched him move away and feeling satisfied that he could reach
+the house without assistance, he felt in his pocket for the materials
+for the last smoke of the day, and was filling his pipe when Emily came
+round the corner.
+
+Emily was in great spirits.
+
+"Such larks!" said Emily. "One of those big nights. Burglars dashing
+to and fro, people falling over banks and butting their heads against
+trees, and everything bright and lively. But let me tell you something.
+A fellow like your cousin Hugo is no use whatever to a dog in any real
+emergency. He's not a force. A broken reed. You should have seen him.
+He...."
+
+"Stop that noise and get to bed," said John.
+
+"Right ho," said Emily. "You'll be coming soon, I suppose?"
+
+She charged up the stairs, glad to get to her basket after a busy
+evening. John lighted his pipe, and began to meditate. Usually he
+smoked the last pipe of the day to the accompaniment of thoughts about
+Pat, but now he found his mind turning to this extraordinary delusion
+of Hugo's that he had caught Doctor Twist, of Healthward Ho, burgling
+the house.
+
+John had never met Doctor Twist, but he knew that he was the proprietor
+of a flourishing health-cure establishment and assumed him to be a
+reputable citizen; and the idea that he had come all the way from
+Healthward Ho to burgle Rudge Hall was so bizarre that he could not
+imagine by what weird mental processes his cousin had been led to
+suppose that he had seen him. Why Doctor Twist, of all people? Why not
+the vicar or Chas. Bywater?
+
+Footsteps sounded on the gravel, and he was aware of the subject of his
+thoughts returning. There was a dazed expression on Hugo's face, and in
+his hand there fluttered a small oblong slip of paper.
+
+"John," said Hugo, "look at this and tell me if you see what I see. Is
+it a cheque?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"For five hundred quid, made out to me and signed by Uncle Lester?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then there _is_ a Santa Claus!" said Hugo reverently. "John, old man,
+it's absolutely uncanny. Directly I got into the house just now Uncle
+Lester called me to his study, handed me this cheque, and told me that
+I could go to London with Ronnie to-morrow and help him start that
+night club. You remember me telling you about Ronnie's night club,
+the Hot Spot, situated just off Bond Street in the heart of London's
+pleasure-seeking area? Or did I? Well, anyway, he is starting a night
+club there, and he offered me a half share if I'd put up five hundred.
+By the way, Uncle Lester wants you to go to London to-morrow, too."
+
+"Me. Why?"
+
+"I fancy he's got the wind up a bit about this burglary business
+to-night. He said something about wanting you to go and see the
+insurance people--to bump up the insurance a trifle, I suppose. He'll
+explain. But, listen, John. It really is the most extraordinary thing,
+this. Uncle Lester starting to unbelt, I mean, and scattering money all
+over the place. I was absolutely right when I told Pat this morning...."
+
+"Have you seen Pat?"
+
+"Met her this morning on the bridge. And I said to her ..."
+
+"Did she--er--ask after me?"
+
+"No."
+
+"No?" said John hollowly.
+
+"Not that I remember. I brought your name into the talk, and we had a
+few words about you, but I don't recollect her asking after you." Hugo
+laid a hand on his cousin's arm. "It's no use, John. Be a man! Forget
+her. Keep plugging away at that Molloy girl. I think you're beginning
+to make an impression. I think she's softening. I was watching her
+narrowly last night, and I fancied I saw a tender look in her eyes when
+they fell on you. I may have been mistaken, but that's what I fancied.
+A sort of shy, filmy look. I'll tell you what it is, John. You're much
+too modest. You underrate yourself. Keep steadily before you the fact
+that almost anybody can get married if they only plug away at it. Look
+at this man Bessemer, for instance, Ronnie's man that I told you about.
+As ugly a devil as you would wish to see outside the House of Commons,
+equipped with number sixteen feet and a face more like a walnut than
+anything. And yet he has clicked. The moral of which is that no one
+need ever lose hope. You may say to yourself that you have no chance
+with this Molloy girl, that she will not look at you. But consider the
+case of Bessemer. Compared with him, you are quite good looking. His
+ears alone...."
+
+"Good night," said John.
+
+He knocked out his pipe and turned to the stairs. Hugo thought his
+manner abrupt.
+
+
+                                 VIII
+
+Sergeant-Major Flannery, that able and conscientious man, walked
+briskly up the main staircase of Healthward Ho. Outside a door off the
+second landing he stopped and knocked.
+
+A loud sneeze sounded from within.
+
+"Cub!" called a voice.
+
+Chimp Twist, propped up with pillows, was sitting in bed, swathed in
+a woollen dressing gown. His face was flushed, and he regarded his
+visitor from under swollen eyelids with a moroseness which would have
+wounded a more sensitive man. Sergeant-Major Flannery stood six feet
+two in his boots: he had a round, shiny face at which it was agony for
+a sick man to look, and Chimp was aware that when he spoke it would
+be in a rolling, barrack-square bellow which would go clean through
+him like a red-hot bullet through butter. One has to be in rude health
+and at the top of one's form to bear up against the Sergeant-Major
+Flannerys of this world.
+
+"Well?" he muttered thickly.
+
+He broke off to sniff at a steaming jug which stood beside his bed, and
+the Sergeant-Major, gazing down at him with the offensive superiority
+of a robust man in the presence of an invalid, fingered his waxed
+moustache. The action intensified Chimp's dislike. From the first he
+had been jealous of that moustache. Until it had come into his life
+he had always thought highly of his own fungoid growth, but one look
+at this rival exhibit had taken all the heart out of him. The thing
+was long and blond and bushy, and it shot heavenward into two glorious
+needle-point ends, a shining zareba of hair quite beyond the scope of
+any mere civilian. Non-army men may grow moustaches and wax them and
+brood over them and be fond and proud of them, but to obtain a waxed
+moustache in the deepest and holiest sense of the words you have to be
+a sergeant-major.
+
+"Oo-er!" said Mr. Flannery. "That's a nasty cold you've got."
+
+Chimp, as if to endorse this opinion, sneezed again.
+
+"A nasty, feverish cold," proceeded the Sergeant-Major in the tones in
+which he had once been wont to request squads of recruits to number off
+from the right. "You ought to do something about that cold."
+
+"I ab dog sobthig about it," growled Chimp, having recourse to the jug
+once more.
+
+"I don't mean sniffing at jugs, sir. You won't do yourself no good
+sniffing at jugs, Mr. Twist. You want to go to the root of the matter,
+if you understand the expression. You want to attack it from the
+stummick. The stummick is the seat of the trouble. Get the stummick
+right and the rest follows natural."
+
+"Wad do you wad?"
+
+"There's some say quinine and some say a drop of camphor on a lump of
+sugar and some say cinnamon, but you can take it from me the best thing
+for a nasty feverish cold in the head is taraxacum and hops. There is
+no occasion to damn my eyes, Mr. Twist. I am only trying to be 'elpful.
+You send out for some taraxacum and hops, and before you know where you
+are...."
+
+"Wad do you wad?"
+
+"I'm telling you. There's a gentleman below--a gentleman who's called,"
+said Sergeant-Major Flannery, making his meaning clear. "A gentleman,"
+being still more precise, "who's called at the front door in a
+nortermobile. He wants to see you."
+
+"Well, he can't."
+
+"Says his name's Molloy."
+
+"Molloy?"
+
+"That's what he _said_," replied Mr. Flannery, as one declining to be
+quoted or to accept any responsibility.
+
+"Oh? All right. Send him up."
+
+"Taraxacum and hops," repeated the Sergeant-Major, pausing at the door.
+
+He disappeared, and a few moments later returned, ushering in Soapy. He
+left the two old friends together, and Soapy approached the bed with
+rather an awe-struck air.
+
+"You've got a cold," he said.
+
+Chimp sniffed--twice. Once with annoyance and once at the jug.
+
+"So would you have a code if you'd been sitting up to your neck in
+water for half an hour last night and had to ride home tweddy biles
+wriggig wet on a motorcycle."
+
+"Says which?" exclaimed Soapy, astounded.
+
+Chimp related the saga of the previous night, touching disparagingly on
+Hugo and saying some things about Emily which it was well she could not
+hear.
+
+"And that leds me out," he concluded.
+
+"No, no!"
+
+"I'm through."
+
+"Don't say that."
+
+"I do say thad."
+
+"But, Chimpie, we've got it all fixed for you to get away with the
+stuff to-night."
+
+Chimp stared at him incredulously.
+
+"To-night? You thig I'm going out to-night with this code of mine, to
+clibe through windows and be run off my legs by ..."
+
+"But, Chimpie, there's no danger of that now. We've got everything set.
+That guy Hugo and his friend are going to London this morning, and so's
+the other fellow. You won't have a thing to do but walk in."
+
+"Oh?" said Chimp.
+
+He relapsed into silence, and took a thoughtful sniff at the jug.
+This information, he was bound to admit, did alter the complexion of
+affairs. But he was a business man.
+
+"Well, if I do agree to go out and risk exposing this nasty, feverish
+code of mine to the night air, which is the worst thig a man can
+do--ask any doctor...."
+
+"Chimpie!" cried Mr. Molloy in a stricken voice. His keen intuition
+told him what was coming.
+
+"... I don't do it on any sigsdy-forty basis. Sigsdy-five--thirty-five
+is the figure."
+
+Mr. Molloy had always been an eloquent man--without a natural turn
+for eloquence you cannot hope to traffic successfully in the baser
+varieties of oil stocks; but never had he touched the sublime heights
+of oratory to which he soared now. Even the first few words would have
+been enough to melt most people. Nevertheless when at the end of five
+minutes he paused for breath, he knew that he had failed to grip his
+audience.
+
+"Sigsdy-five--thirty-five," said Chimp firmly. "You need me, or you
+wouldn't have brought me into this. If you could have worked the job by
+yourself, you'd never have tode me a word about it."
+
+"I can't work it by myself. I've got to have an alibi. I and the wife
+are going to a theatre to-night in Birmingham."
+
+"That's what I'm saying. You can't get alog without me. And that's why
+it's going to be sigsdy-five--thirty-five."
+
+Mr. Molloy wandered to the window and looked hopelessly out over the
+garden.
+
+"Think what Dolly will say when I tell her," he pleaded.
+
+Chimp replied ungallantly that Dolly and what she might say meant
+little in his life. Mr. Molloy groaned hollowly.
+
+"Well, I guess if that's the way you feel...."
+
+Chimp assured him it was.
+
+"Then I suppose that's the way we'll have to fix it."
+
+"All right," said Chimp. "Then I'll be there somewheres about eleven,
+or a little later, maybe. And you needn't bother to leave any window
+opud this time. Just have a ladder laying around and I'll bust the
+window of the picture gallery, where the stuff is. It'll be more
+trouble, but I dode bide takid a bidder trouble to make thigs look more
+natural. You just see thad ladder's where I can fide it, and then you
+can leave all the difficud part of it to me."
+
+"Difficult!"
+
+"Difficud was what I said," returned Chimp. "Suppose I trip over
+somethig id the dark? Suppose I slip on the stairs? Suppose the ladder
+breaks? Suppose that dog gets after me again? That dog's not going to
+London, is it? Well, then! Besides, considering that I may quide ligely
+get pneumonia and pass in my checks.... What did you say?"
+
+Mr. Molloy had not spoken. He had merely sighed wistfully.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+                                   I
+
+Although anxious thought for the comfort of his juniors was not
+habitually one of Lester Carmody's outstanding qualities, in planning
+his nephew John's expedition to London he had been considerateness
+itself. John, he urged, must on no account dream of trying to make the
+double journey in a single day. Apart from the fatigue inseparable from
+such a performance, he was a young man, and young men, Mr. Carmody
+pointed out, are always the better for a little relaxation, and an
+occasional taste of the pleasures which a metropolis has to offer. Let
+John have a good dinner in London, go to a theatre, sleep comfortably
+at a first-class hotel and return at his leisure on the morrow.
+
+Nevertheless, in spite of his uncle's solicitude nightfall found the
+latter hurrying back into Worcestershire in the Widgeon Seven. He did
+not admit that he was nervous, yet there had undoubtedly come upon
+him something that resembled uneasiness. He had been thinking a good
+deal during his ride to London about the peculiar behaviour of his
+cousin Hugo on the previous night. The supposition that Hugo had found
+Doctor Twist of Healthward Ho trying to burgle Rudge Hall was, of
+course, too absurd for consideration, but it did seem possible that he
+had surprised some sort of an attempt upon the house. Rambling and
+incoherent as his story had been, it had certainly appeared to rest
+upon that substratum of fact, and John had protested rather earnestly
+to his uncle against being sent to London, on an errand which could
+have been put through much more simply by letter, at a time when
+burglars were in the neighbourhood.
+
+Mr. Carmody had laughed at his apprehensions. It was most unlikely, he
+pointed out, that Hugo had ever seen a marauder at all. But assuming
+that he had done so, and that he had surprised him and pursued him
+about the garden, was it reasonable to suppose that the man would
+return on the very next night? And if, finally, he did return, the mere
+absence of John would make very little difference. Unless he proposed
+to patrol the grounds all night, John, sleeping as he did over the
+stable yard, could not be of much help, and even without him Rudge
+Hall was scarcely in a state of defencelessness. Sturgis, the butler,
+it was true, must, on account of age and flat feet, be reckoned a
+non-combatant, but apart from Mr. Carmody himself the garrison, John
+must recollect, included the intrepid Thomas G. Molloy, a warrior at
+the very mention of whose name Bad Men in Western mining camps had in
+days gone by trembled like aspens.
+
+It was all very plausible, yet John, having completed his business in
+London, swallowed an early dinner and turned the head of the Widgeon
+Seven homeward.
+
+It is often the man with smallest stake in a venture that has its
+interests most deeply at heart. His uncle Lester John had always
+suspected of a complete lack of interest in the welfare of Rudge Hall;
+and, as for Hugo, that urban-minded young man looked on the place as a
+sort of penitentiary, grudging every moment he was compelled to spend
+within its ancient walls. To John it was left to regard Rudge in the
+right Carmody spirit, the spirit of that Nigel Carmody who had once
+held it for King Charles against the forces of the Commonwealth. Where
+Rudge was concerned, John was fussy. The thought of intruders treading
+its sacred floors appalled him. He urged the Widgeon Seven forward at
+its best speed and reached Rudge as the clock over the stables was
+striking eleven.
+
+The first thing that met his eye as he turned in at the stable yard
+was the door of the garage gaping widely open and empty space in the
+spot where the Dex-Mayo should have stood. He ran the two-seater in,
+switched off the engine and the lights, and, climbing down stiffly,
+proceeded to ponder over this phenomenon. The only explanation he could
+think of was that his uncle must have ordered the car out after dinner
+on an expedition of some kind. To Birmingham, probably. The only place
+you ever went to from Rudge after nightfall was Birmingham.
+
+John thought he could guess what must have happened. He did not often
+read the Birmingham papers himself, but the _Post_ came to the house
+every morning: and he seemed to see Miss Molloy, her appetite for
+entertainment whetted rather than satisfied by the village concert,
+finding in its columns the announcement that one of the musical
+comedies of her native land was playing at the Prince of Wales. No
+doubt she had wheedled his uncle into taking herself and her father
+over there, with the result that here the house was without anything in
+the shape of protection except butler Sturgis, who had been old when
+John was a boy.
+
+A wave of irritation passed over John. Two long drives in the Widgeon
+Seven in a single day had induced even in his whip-cord body a certain
+measure of fatigue. He had been looking forward to tumbling into bed
+without delay, and this meant that he must remain up and keep vigil
+till the party's return. Well, at least he would rout Emily out of her
+slumbers.
+
+"Hullo?" said Emily sleepily, in answer to his whistle. "Yes?"
+
+"Come down," called John.
+
+There was a scrabbling on the stairs. Emily bounded out, full of life.
+
+"Well, well, well!" she said. "You back?"
+
+"Come along."
+
+"What's up? More larks?"
+
+"Don't make such a beastly noise," said John. "Do you know what time it
+is?"
+
+They walked out together and proceeded to make a slow circle of the
+house. And gradually the magic of the night began to soften John's
+annoyance. The grounds of Rudge Hall, he should have remembered, were
+at their best at this hour and under these conditions. Shy little
+scents were abroad which did not trust themselves out in the daytime,
+and you needed stillness like this really to hear the soft whispering
+of the trees.
+
+London had been stiflingly hot, and this sweet coolness was like balm.
+Emily had disappeared into the darkness, which probably meant that she
+would clump back up the stairs at two in the morning having rolled in
+something unpleasant, and ruin his night's repose by leaping on his
+chest, but he could not bring himself to worry about it. A sort of
+beatific peace was upon him. It was almost as though an inner voice
+were whispering to him that he was on the brink of some wonderful
+experience. And what experience the immediate future could hold except
+the possible washing of Emily when she finally decided to come home he
+was unable to imagine.
+
+Moving at a leisurely pace, he worked round to the back of the house
+again and stepped off the grass on to the gravel outside the stable
+yard. And as his shoes grated in the warm silence a splash of white
+suddenly appeared in the blackness before him.
+
+"Johnnie?"
+
+He came back on his heels as if he had received a blow. It was the
+voice of Pat, sounding in the warm silence like moonlight made audible.
+
+"Is that you, Johnnie?"
+
+John broke into a little run. His heart was jumping, and all the
+happiness which had been glowing inside him had leaped up into a
+roaring flame. That mysterious premonition had meant something, after
+all. But he had never dreamed it could mean anything so wonderful as
+this.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+The night was full of stars, but overhanging trees made the spot where
+they stood a little island of darkness in which all that was visible
+of Pat was a faint gleaming of white. John stared at her dumbly. Only
+once in his life before could he remember having felt as he felt now,
+and that was one raw November evening at school at the close of the
+football match against Marlborough when, after battling wearily through
+a long half hour to preserve the slenderest of all possible leads, he
+had heard the referee's whistle sound through the rising mists and had
+stood up, bruised and battered and covered with mud, to the realization
+that the game was over and won. He had had his moments since then: he
+had captained Oxford and played for England, and had touched happiness
+in other and milder departments of life, but never again till now had
+he felt that strange, almost awful ecstasy.
+
+Pat, for her part, appeared composed.
+
+"That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've
+been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a
+sound."
+
+"Emily's gone away somewhere."
+
+"I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for
+life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically
+cut me dead."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Pat!" said John, thickly.
+
+"I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such
+a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling
+round?"
+
+It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The
+thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a
+thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step
+to prevent them.
+
+"Oh, just walking."
+
+"Were you surprised to see me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"We don't see much of each other nowadays."
+
+"I didn't know.... I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."
+
+"Good gracious! What made you think that?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+Silence fell upon them again. John was harassed by a growing
+consciousness that he was failing to prove himself worthy of this
+golden moment which the Fates had granted to him. Was this all he was
+capable of--stiff, halting words which sounded banal even to himself?
+A night like this deserved, he felt, something better. He saw himself
+for an instant as he must be appearing to a girl like Pat, a girl who
+had been everywhere and met all sorts of men--glib, dashing men; suave,
+ingratiating men; men of poise and _savoir faire_ who could carry
+themselves with a swagger. An aching humility swept over him.
+
+And yet she had come here to-night to see him. The thought a little
+restored his self-respect, and he was trying with desperate search in
+the unexplored recesses of his mind to discover some remark which would
+show his appreciation of that divine benevolence, when she spoke again.
+
+"Johnnie, let's go out on the moat."
+
+John's heart was singing like one of the morning stars. The suggestion
+was not one which he would have made himself, for it would not
+have occurred to him, but, now that it had been made, he saw how
+super-excellent it was. He tried to say so, but words would not come to
+him.
+
+"You don't seem very enthusiastic," said Pat. "I suppose you think I
+ought to be at home and in bed?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Perhaps you want to go to bed?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, come on then."
+
+They walked in silence down the yew-hedged path that led to the
+boathouse. The tranquil beauty of the night wrapped them about as in a
+garment. It was very dark here, and even the gleam of white that was
+Pat had become indistinct.
+
+"Johnnie?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+He heard her utter a little exclamation. Something soft and scented
+stumbled against him, and for an instant he was holding her in his
+arms. The next moment he had very properly released her again, and he
+heard her laugh.
+
+"Sorry," said Pat. "I stumbled."
+
+John did not reply. He was incapable of speech. That swift moment of
+contact had had the effect of clarifying his mental turmoil. Luminously
+now he perceived what was causing his lack of eloquence. It was the
+surging, choking desire to kiss Pat, to reach out and snatch her up in
+his arms and hold her there.
+
+He stopped abruptly.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing," said John.
+
+Prudence, the kill-joy, had whispered in his ear. He visualized
+Prudence as a thin, pale-faced female with down-drawn lips and
+mild, warning stare who murmured thinly, "Is it wise?" Before her
+whisper primitive emotions fled, abashed. The caveman in John fled
+back into the dim past whence he had come. Most certainly, felt the
+Twentieth-Century John, it would not be wise. Very clearly Pat had
+shown him, that night in London, that all that she could give him was
+friendship, and to gratify the urge of some distant ancestor who ought
+to have been ashamed of himself he had been proposing to shatter the
+delicate crystal of this friendship into fragments. He shivered at the
+narrowness of escape.
+
+He had heard stories. In stories girls drew their breath in sharply and
+said "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?" He decided not to
+spoil everything. Walking warily, he reached the little gate that led
+to the boathouse steps and opened it with something of a flourish.
+
+"Be careful," he said.
+
+"What of?" said Pat. It seemed to John that she spoke a trifle flatly.
+
+"These steps are rather tricky."
+
+"Oh?" said Pat.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+He followed her into the punt, oppressed once more by a feeling that
+something had gone wrong with what should have been the most wonderful
+night of his life. Girls are creatures of moods, and Pat seemed now
+to have fallen into one of odd aloofness. She said nothing as he
+pushed the boat out, and remained silent as it slid through the water
+with a little tinkling ripple, bearing them into a world of stars and
+coolness, where everything was still and the trees stood out against
+the sky as if carved out of cardboard.
+
+"Are you all right?" said John, at last.
+
+"Splendid, thanks." Pat's mood seemed to have undergone another swift
+change. Her voice was friendly again. She nestled into the cushions.
+"This is luxury. Do you remember the old days when there was nothing
+but the weed-boat?"
+
+"They were pretty good days," said John wistfully.
+
+"They were, rather," said Pat.
+
+The spell of the summer night held them silent again. No sound
+broke the stillness but the slap of tiny waves and the rhythmic dip
+and splash of the paddle. Then with a dry flittering a bat wheeled
+overhead, and out somewhere by the little island where the birds nested
+something leaped noisily in the water. Pat raised her head.
+
+"A pike?"
+
+"Must have been."
+
+Pat sat up and leaned forward.
+
+"That would have excited Father," she said. "I know he's dying to get
+out here and have another go at the pike. Johnnie, I do wish somebody
+could do something to stop this absurd feud between him and Mr.
+Carmody. It's too silly. I know Father would be all over Mr. Carmody if
+only he would make some sort of advance. After all, he did behave very
+badly. He might at least apologize."
+
+John did not reply for a moment. He was thinking that whoever tried
+to make his uncle apologize for anything had a whole-time job on his
+hands. Obstinate was a mild word for the squire of Rudge. Pigs bowed
+as he passed, and mules could have taken his correspondence course.
+
+"Uncle Lester's a peculiar man," he said.
+
+"But he might listen to you."
+
+"He might," said John doubtfully.
+
+"Well, will you try? Will you go to him and say that all Father wants
+is for him to admit he was in the wrong? Good heavens! It isn't asking
+much of a man to admit that when he's nearly murdered somebody."
+
+"I'll try."
+
+"Hugo says Mr. Carmody has gone off his head, but he can't have gone
+far enough off not to be able to see that Father has a perfect right
+to be offended at being grabbed round the waist and used as a dug-out
+against dynamite explosions."
+
+"I think Hugo's off his head," said John. "He was running round the
+garden last night, dashing himself against trees. He said he was
+chasing a burglar."
+
+Pat was not to be diverted into a discussion of Hugo's mental
+deficiencies.
+
+"Well, will you do your best, Johnnie? Don't just let things slide
+as if they didn't matter. I tell you, it's rotten for me. Father
+found me talking to Hugo the other day and behaved like something out
+of a super-film. He seemed sorry there wasn't any snow, so that he
+couldn't drive his erring daughter out into it. If he knew I was up
+here to-night he would foam with fury. He says I mustn't speak to you
+or Hugo or Mr. Carmody or Emily--not that I want to speak to Emily,
+the little blighter--nor your ox nor your ass nor anything that is
+within your gates. He's put a curse on the Hall. It's one of those
+comprehensive curses, taking in everything from the family to the mice
+in the kitchen, and I tell you I'm jolly well fed up. This place has
+always been just like a home to me, and you ..."
+
+John paused in the act of dipping his paddle into the water.
+
+"... and you have always been just like a brother ..."
+
+John dug the paddle down with a vicious jerk.
+
+"... and if Father thinks it doesn't affect me to be told I mustn't
+come here and see you, he's wrong. I suppose most girls nowadays would
+just laugh at him, but I can't. It isn't his being angry I'd mind--it
+would hurt his feelings so frightfully if I let him down and went
+fraternizing with the enemy. So I have to come here on the sly, and if
+there's one thing in the world I hate it's doing things on the sly. So
+do reason with that old pig of an uncle of yours, Johnnie. Talk to him
+like a mother."
+
+"Pat," said John fervently, "I don't know how it's going to be done,
+but if it can be done I'll do it."
+
+"That's the stuff! You're a funny old thing, Johnnie. In some ways
+you're so slow, but I believe when you really start out to do anything
+you generally put it through."
+
+"Slow?" said John, stung. "How do you mean, slow?"
+
+"Well, don't you think you're slow?"
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Oh, just slow."
+
+In spite of the fact that the stars were shining bravely, the night was
+very dark, much too dark for John to be able to see Pat's face; he got
+the impression that, could he have seen it, he would have discovered
+that she was smiling that old mocking smile of hers. And somehow,
+though in the past he had often wilted meekly and apologetically
+beneath this smile, it filled him now with a surge of fury. He plied
+the paddle wrathfully, and the boat shot forward.
+
+"Don't go so fast," said Pat.
+
+"I thought I was slow," retorted John, sinking back through the years
+to the repartee of school days.
+
+Pat gurgled in the darkness.
+
+"Did I wound you, Johnnie? I'm sorry. You aren't slow. It's just
+prudence, I expect."
+
+Prudence! John ceased to paddle. He was tingling all over, and there
+had come upon him a strange breathlessness.
+
+"How do you mean, prudence?"
+
+"Oh, just prudence. I can't explain."
+
+Prudence! John sat and stared through the darkness in a futile effort
+to see her face. A water rat swam past, cleaving a fan-shaped trail.
+The stars winked down at him. In the little island a bird moved among
+the reeds. Prudence! Was she referring...? Had she meant...? Did she
+allude...?
+
+He came to life and dug the paddle into the water. Of course she
+wasn't. Of course she hadn't. Of course she didn't. In that little
+episode on the path, he had behaved exactly as he should have behaved.
+If he behaved as he should not have behaved, if he had behaved as that
+old flint-axe and bearskin John of the Stone Age would have had him
+behave, he would have behaved unpardonably. The swift intake of the
+breath and the "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?"--that was
+what would have been the result of listening to the advice of a bounder
+of an ancestor who might have been a social success in his day, but
+naturally didn't understand the niceties of modern civilization.
+
+Nevertheless, he worked with unnecessary vigour at the paddle, calling
+down another rebuke from his passenger.
+
+"Don't race along like that. Are you trying to hint that you want to
+get this over as quickly as you can and send me home to bed?"
+
+"No," was all John could find to say.
+
+"Well, I suppose I ought to be thinking of bed. I'll tell you what.
+We'll do the thing in style. The Return by Water. You can take me out
+into the Skirme and down as far as the bridge and drop me there. Or is
+that too big a programme? You're probably tired."
+
+John had motored two hundred miles that day, but he had never felt less
+tired. His view was that he wished they could row on for ever.
+
+"All right," he said.
+
+"Push on, then," said Pat. "Only do go slowly. I want to enjoy this. I
+don't want to whizz by all the old landmarks. How far to Ghost Corner?"
+
+"It's just ahead."
+
+"Well, take it easy."
+
+The moat proper was a narrow strip of water which encircled the Hall
+and had been placed there by the first Carmody in the days when
+householders believed in making things difficult for their visitors.
+With the gradual spread of peace throughout the land its original
+purposes had been forgotten, and later members of the family had
+broadened it and added to it and tinkered with it and sprinkled it with
+little islands with the view of converting it into something resembling
+as nearly as possible an ornamental lake. Apparently it came to an end
+at the spot where a mass of yew trees stood forbiddingly in a gloomy
+row, that haunted spot which Pat as a child had named Ghost Corner;
+but if you approached this corner intrepidly you found there a narrow
+channel. Which navigated, you came into a winding stream which led past
+meadows and under bridges to the upper reaches of the Skirme.
+
+"How old were you, Johnnie, when you were first brave enough to come
+past Ghost Corner at night all by yourself?" asked Pat.
+
+"Sixteen."
+
+"I bet you were much more than that."
+
+"I did it on my sixteenth birthday."
+
+Pat stretched out a hand and the branches brushed her fingers.
+
+"I wouldn't do it even now," she said. "I know perfectly well a skinny
+arm covered with black hair would come out of the yews and grab me.
+There's something that looks like a skinny arm hovering at the back of
+your neck now, Johnnie. What made you such a hero that particular day?"
+
+"You had betted me I wouldn't, if you remember."
+
+"I don't remember. Did I?"
+
+"Well, you egged me on with taunts."
+
+"And you went and did it? What a good influence I've been in your life,
+haven't I? Oh, dear! It's funny to think of you and me as kids on this
+very bit of water and here we are again now, old and worn and quite
+different people, and the water's just the same as ever."
+
+"I'm not different."
+
+"Yes, you are."
+
+"What makes you say I'm different?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know."
+
+John stopped paddling. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.
+
+"Why do you say I'm different?"
+
+"Those white things through the trees there must be geese."
+
+John was not interested in geese.
+
+"I'm not different at all," he said, "I...." He broke off. He had been
+on the verge of saying that he had loved her then and that he loved her
+still--which, he perceived, would have spoiled everything. "I'm just
+the same," he concluded lamely.
+
+"Then why don't you sport with me on the green as you did when you
+were a growing lad? Here you have been back for days, and to-night is
+the first glimpse I get of you. And, even so, I had to walk a mile and
+fling gravel at your window. In the old days you used to live on my
+doorstep. Do you think I've enjoyed being left all alone all this time?"
+
+John was appalled. Put this way, the facts did seem to point to a
+callous negligence on his part. And all the while he had been supposing
+his conduct due to delicacy and a sense of what was fitting and would
+be appreciated. In John's code, it was the duty of a man who has told
+a girl he loved her and been informed that she does not love him to
+efface himself, to crawl into the background, to pass out of her life
+till the memory of his crude audacity shall have been blotted out by
+time. Why, half the big game shot in Africa owed their untimely end, he
+understood, to this tradition.
+
+"I didn't know...."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I didn't know you wanted to see me."
+
+"Of course I wanted to see you. Look here, Johnnie. I'll tell you what.
+Are you doing anything to-morrow?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then get out that old rattletrap of yours and gather me up at my
+place, and we'll go off and have a regular picnic like we used to do
+in the old days. Father is lunching out. You could come at about one
+o'clock. We could get out to Wenlock Edge in an hour. It would be
+lovely there if this weather holds up. What do you say?"
+
+John did not immediately say anything. His feelings were too deep for
+words. He urged the boat forward, and the Skirme received it with that
+slow, grave, sleepy courtesy which made it for right-thinking people
+the best of all rivers.
+
+"Pat!" said John at length, devoutly.
+
+"Will you?"
+
+"Will I!"
+
+"All right. That's splendid. I'll expect you at one."
+
+The Skirme rippled about the boat, chuckling to itself. It was a
+kindly, thoughtful river, given to chuckling to itself like an old
+gentleman who likes to see young people happy.
+
+"We used to have some topping picnics in the old days," said Pat
+dreamily.
+
+"We did," said John.
+
+"Though why on earth you ever wanted to be with a beastly, bossy,
+consequential, fractious kid like me, goodness knows."
+
+"You were fine," said John.
+
+The Old Bridge loomed up through the shadows. John had steered the
+boat shoreward, and it brushed against the reeds with a sound like the
+blowing of fairy bugles.
+
+Pat scrambled out and bent down to where he sat, holding to the bank.
+
+"I'm not nearly so beastly now, Johnnie," she said in a whisper.
+"You'll find that out some day, perhaps, if you're very patient. Good
+night, Johnnie, dear. Don't forget to-morrow."
+
+She flitted away into the darkness, and John, releasing his hold on the
+bank and starting up as if he had had an electric shock, was carried
+out into mid-stream. He was tingling from head to foot. It could not
+have happened, of course, but for a moment he had suddenly received the
+extraordinary impression that Pat had kissed him.
+
+"Pat!" he called, choking.
+
+There came no answer out of the night--only the sleepy chuckling of the
+Skirme as it pottered on to tell its old friend the Severn about it.
+
+"Pat!"
+
+John drove the paddle forcefully into the water, and the Skirme,
+ceasing to chuckle, uttered two loud gurgles of protest as if resenting
+treatment so violent. The nose of the boat bumped against the bank,
+and he sprang ashore. He stood there, listening. But there was nothing
+to hear. Silence had fallen on an empty world.
+
+A little sound came to him in the darkness. The Skirme was chuckling
+again.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX
+
+
+                                   I
+
+John woke late next day, and in the moment between sleeping and waking
+was dimly conscious of a feeling of extraordinary happiness. For some
+reason, which he could not immediately analyze, the world seemed
+suddenly to have become the best of all possible worlds. Then he
+remembered, and sprang out of bed with a shout.
+
+Emily, lying curled up in her basket, her whole appearance that of a
+dog who has come home with the milk, raised a drowsy head. Usually it
+was her custom to bustle about and lend a hand while John bathed and
+dressed, but this morning she did not feel equal to it. Deciding that
+it was too much trouble even to tell him about the man she had seen in
+the grounds last night, she breathed heavily twice and returned to her
+slumbers.
+
+Having dressed and come out into the open, John found that he had
+missed some hours of what appeared to be the most perfect morning in
+the world's history. The stable yard was a well of sunshine: light
+breezes whispered in the branches of the cedars: fleecy clouds swam in
+a sea of blue: and from the direction of the home farm there came the
+soothing crooning of fowls. His happiness swelled into a feeling of
+universal benevolence toward all created things. He looked upon the
+birds and found them all that birds should be: the insects which hummed
+in the sunshine were, he perceived, a quite superior brand of insect:
+he even felt fraternal toward a wasp which came flying about his face.
+And when the Dex-Mayo rolled across the bridge of the moat and Bolt,
+applying the brakes, drew up at his side, he thought he had never seen
+a nicer-looking chauffeur.
+
+"Good morning, Bolt," said John, effusively.
+
+"Good morning, sir."
+
+"Where have you been off to so early?"
+
+"Mr. Carmody sent me to Worcester, sir, to leave a bag for him at Shrub
+Hill station. If you're going into the house, Mr. John, perhaps you
+wouldn't mind giving him the ticket?"
+
+John was delighted. It was a small kindness that the chauffeur was
+asking, and he wished it had been in his power to do something for him
+on a bigger scale. However, the chance of doing even small kindnesses
+was something to be grateful for on a morning like this. He took the
+ticket and put it in his pocket.
+
+"How are you, Bolt?"
+
+"All right, thank you, sir."
+
+"How's Mrs. Bolt?"
+
+"She's all right, Mr. John."
+
+"How's the baby?"
+
+"The baby's all right."
+
+"And the dog?"
+
+"The dog's all right, sir."
+
+"That's splendid," said John. "That's great. That's fine. That's
+capital. I'm delighted."
+
+He smiled a radiant smile of cheeriness and good will, and turned
+toward the house. However much the heart may be uplifted, the animal in
+a man insists on demanding breakfast, and, though John was practically
+pure spirit this morning, he was not blind to the fact that a couple of
+eggs and a cup of coffee would be no bad thing. As he reached the door,
+he remembered that Mrs. Bolt had a canary and that he had not inquired
+after that, but decided that the moment had gone by. Later on, perhaps.
+He opened the back door and made his way to the morning room, where
+eggs abounded and coffee could be had for the asking. Pausing only to
+tickle a passing cat under the ear and make chirruping noises to it, he
+went in.
+
+The morning room was empty, and there were signs that the rest of the
+party had already breakfasted. John was glad of it. Genially disposed
+though he felt toward his species to-day, he relished the prospect
+of solitude. A man who is about to picnic on Wenlock Edge in perfect
+weather with the only girl in the world, wants to meditate, not to make
+conversation.
+
+So thoroughly had his predecessors breakfasted that he found, on
+inspecting the coffee pot, that it was empty. He rang the bell.
+
+"Good morning, Sturgis," he said affably, as the butler appeared. "You
+might give me some more coffee, will you?"
+
+The butler of Rudge Hall was a little man with snowy hair who had been
+placidly withering in Mr. Carmody's service for the last twenty years.
+John had known him ever since he could remember, and he had always been
+just the same--frail and venerable and kindly and dried-up. He looked
+exactly like the Good Old Man in a touring melodrama company.
+
+"Why, Mr. John! I thought you were in London."
+
+"I got back late last night. And very glad," said John heartily, "to be
+back. How's the rheumatism, Sturgis?"
+
+"Rather troublesome, Mr. John."
+
+John was horrified. Could these things be on such a day as this?
+
+"You don't say so?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John. I was awake the greater portion of the night."
+
+"You must rub yourself with something and then go and lie down and have
+a good rest. Where do you feel it mostly?"
+
+"In the limbs, Mr. John. It comes on in sharp twinges."
+
+"That's bad. By Jove, yes, that's bad. Perhaps this fine weather will
+make it better."
+
+"I hope so, Mr. John."
+
+"So do I, so do I," said John earnestly. "Tell me, where is everybody?"
+
+"Mr. Hugo and the young gentleman went up to London."
+
+"Of course, yes. I was forgetting."
+
+"Mr. Molloy and Miss Molloy finished their breakfast some little time
+ago, and are now out in the garden."
+
+"Ah, yes. And my uncle?"
+
+"He is up in the picture gallery with the policeman, Mr. John."
+
+John stared.
+
+"With the what?"
+
+"With the policeman, Mr. John, who's come about the burglary."
+
+"Burglary?"
+
+"Didn't you hear, Mr. John, we had a burglary last night?"
+
+The world being constituted as it is, with Fate waiting round almost
+every corner with its sandbag, it is not often that we are permitted to
+remain for long undisturbed in our moods of exaltation. John came down
+to earth swiftly.
+
+"Good heavens!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John. And if you could spare the time...."
+
+Remorse gripped John. He felt like a sentinel who, falling asleep at
+his post, has allowed the enemy to creep past him in the night.
+
+"I must go up and see about this."
+
+"Very good, Mr. John. But if I might have a word...."
+
+"Some other time, Sturgis."
+
+He ran up the stairs to the picture gallery. Mr. Carmody and Rudge's
+one policeman were examining something by the window, and John, in the
+brief interval which elapsed before they became aware of his presence,
+was enabled to see the evidence of the disaster. Several picture
+frames, robbed of their contents, gaped at him like blank windows.
+A glass case containing miniatures had been broken and rifled. The
+Elizabethan salt cellar presented to Aymas Carmody by the Virgin Queen
+herself was no longer in its place.
+
+"Gosh!" said John.
+
+Mr. Carmody and his companion turned.
+
+"John! I thought you were in London."
+
+"I came back last night."
+
+"Did you see, or observe or hear anything of this business?" asked the
+policeman.
+
+Constable Mould was one of the slowest-witted men in Rudge, and he had
+eyes like two brown puddles filmed over with scum, but he was doing his
+best to look at John keenly.
+
+"No."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I wasn't here."
+
+"You said you were, sir," Constable Mould pointed out cleverly.
+
+"I mean, I wasn't anywhere near the house," replied John impatiently.
+"Immediately I arrived I went out for a row on the moat."
+
+"Then you did not see or observe anything?"
+
+"No."
+
+Constable Mould, who had been licking the tip of his pencil and holding
+a notebook in readiness, subsided disappointedly.
+
+"When did this happen?" asked John.
+
+"It is impossible to say," replied Mr. Carmody. "By a most unfortunate
+combination of circumstances the house was virtually empty from almost
+directly after dinner. Hugo and his friend, as you know, left for
+London yesterday morning. Mr. Molloy and his daughter took the car
+to Birmingham to see a play. And I myself retired to bed early with
+a headache. The man could have effected an entrance without being
+observed almost any time after eight o'clock. No doubt he actually did
+break in shortly before midnight."
+
+"How did he get in?"
+
+"Undoubtedly through this window by means of a ladder."
+
+John perceived that the glass of the window had been cut out.
+
+"Another most unfortunate thing," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "is that the
+objects stolen, though so extremely valuable, are small in actual size.
+The man could have carried them off without any inconvenience. No doubt
+they are miles away by this time, possibly even in London."
+
+"Was this here stuff insured?" asked Constable Mould.
+
+"Yes. Curiously enough, the reason my nephew here went to London
+yesterday was to increase the insurance. You saw to that matter, John?"
+
+"Oh, yes." John spoke absently. Like everybody else who has ever found
+himself on the scene of a recently committed burglary, he was looking
+about for clues. "Hullo!"
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"Did you see this?"
+
+"Certainly I saw it," said Mr. Carmody.
+
+"I saw it first," said Constable Mould.
+
+"The man must have cut his finger getting it."
+
+"That's what I thought," said Constable Mould.
+
+The combined Mould-Carmody-John discovery was a bloodstained
+fingerprint on the woodwork of the window sill: and, like so many
+things in this world, it had at first sight the air of being much
+more important than it really was. John said he considered it valuable
+evidence, and felt damped when Mr. Carmody pointed out that its value
+was decreased by the fact that it was not easy to search through the
+whole of England for a man with a cut finger.
+
+"I see," said John.
+
+Constable Mould said he had seen it right away.
+
+"The only thing to be done, I suppose," said Mr. Carmody resignedly,
+"is to telephone to the police in Worcester. Not that they will
+be likely to effect anything, but it is as well to observe the
+formalities. Come downstairs with me, Mould."
+
+They left the room, the constable, it seemed to John, taking none
+too kindly to the idea that there were higher powers in the world of
+detection than himself. His uncle, he considered, had shown a good
+deal of dignity in his acceptance of the disaster. Many men would have
+fussed and lost their heads, but Lester Carmody remained calm. John
+thought it showed a good spirit.
+
+He wandered about the room, hoping for more and better clues. But the
+difficulty confronting the novice on these occasions is that it is so
+hard to tell what is a clue and what is not. Probably, if he only knew,
+there were clues lying about all over the place, shouting to him to
+pick them up. But how to recognize them? Sherlock Holmes can extract a
+clue from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash. Doctor Watson has to
+have it taken out for him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label
+attached. John was forced reluctantly to the conclusion that he was
+essentially a Doctor Watson. He did not rise even to the modest level
+of a Scotland Yard Bungler.
+
+He awoke from a reverie to find Sturgis at his side.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+"Ah, Sturgis," said John absently.
+
+He was not particularly pleased to see the butler. The man looked as if
+he were about to dodder, and in moments of intense thought one does not
+wish to have doddering butlers around one.
+
+"Might I have a word, Mr. John?"
+
+John supposed he might, though he was not frightfully keen about it. He
+respected Sturgis's white hairs, but the poor old ruin had horned in at
+an unfortunate moment.
+
+"My rheumatism was very bad last night, Mr. John."
+
+John recognized the blunder he had made in being so sympathetic just
+now. At the time, feeling, as he had done, that all mankind were his
+little brothers, to inquire after and display a keen interest in
+Sturgis's rheumatism had been a natural and, one might say, unavoidable
+act. But now he regretted it. He required every cell in his brain for
+this very delicate business of clue-hunting, and it was maddening to be
+compelled to call a number of them off duty to attend to gossip about
+a butler's swollen joints. A little coldly he asked Sturgis if he had
+ever tried Christian Science.
+
+"It kept me awake a very long time, Mr. John."
+
+"I read in a paper the other day that bee stings sometimes have a good
+effect."
+
+"Bee stings, sir?"
+
+"So they say. You get yourself stung by bees, and the acid or whatever
+it is in the sting draws out the acid or whatever it is in you."
+
+Sturgis was silent for a while, and John supposed he was about to
+ask if he could direct him to a good bee. Such, however, was not the
+butler's intention. It was Sturgis, the old retainer with the welfare
+of Rudge Hall nearest his heart--not Sturgis the sufferer from twinges
+in the limbs--who was present now in the picture gallery.
+
+"It is very kind of you, Mr. John," he said, "to interest yourself, but
+what I wished to have a word with you about was this burglary of ours
+last night."
+
+This was more the stuff. John became heartier.
+
+"A most mysterious affair, Sturgis. The man apparently climbed in
+through this window, and no doubt escaped the same way."
+
+"No, Mr. John. That's what I wished to have a word with you about. He
+went away down the front stairs."
+
+"What! How do you know?"
+
+"I saw him, Mr. John."
+
+"You saw him?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John. Owing to being kept awake by my rheumatism."
+
+The remorse which had come upon John at the moment when he had first
+heard the news of the burglary was as nothing to the remorse which
+racked him now. Just because this fine old man had one of those mild,
+goofy faces and bleated like a sheep when he talked, he had dismissed
+him without further thought as a dodderer. And all the time the
+splendid old fellow, who could not help his face and was surely not to
+be blamed if age had affected his vocal chords, had been the God from
+the Machine, sent from heaven to assist him in getting to the bottom
+of this outrage. There is no known case on record of a man patting a
+butler on the head, but John at this moment came very near to providing
+one.
+
+"You saw him!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John."
+
+"What did he look like?"
+
+"I couldn't say, Mr. John, not really definite."
+
+"Why couldn't you?"
+
+"Because I did not really see him."
+
+"But you said you did."
+
+"Yes, Mr. John, but only in a manner of speaking."
+
+John's new-born cordiality waned a little. His first estimate, he felt,
+had been right. This was doddering, pure and simple.
+
+"How do you mean, only in a manner of speaking?"
+
+"Well, it was like this, Mr. John...."
+
+"Look here," said John. "Tell me the whole thing right from the start."
+
+Sturgis glanced cautiously at the door. When he spoke, it was in a
+lowered voice, which gave his delivery the effect of a sheep bleating
+with cotton wool in its mouth.
+
+"I was awake with my rheumatism last night, Mr. John, and at last it
+come on so bad I felt I really couldn't hardly bear it no longer. I
+lay in bed, thinking, and after I had thought for quite some time, Mr.
+John, it suddenly crossed my mind that Mr. Hugo had once remarked,
+while kindly interesting himself in my little trouble, that a glassful
+of whisky, drunk without water, frequently alleviated the pain."
+
+John nodded. So far, the story bore the stamp of truth. A glassful
+of neat whisky was just what Hugo would have recommended for any
+complaint, from rheumatism to a broken heart.
+
+"So I thought in the circumstances that Mr. Carmody would not object if
+I tried a little. So I got out of bed and put on my overcoat, and I had
+just reached the head of the stairs, it being my intention to go to the
+cellarette in the dining room, when what should I hear but a noise."
+
+"What sort of noise?"
+
+"A sort of sneezing noise, Mr. John. As it might be somebody sneezing."
+
+"Yes? Well?"
+
+"I was stottled."
+
+"Stottled? Oh, yes, I see. Well?"
+
+"I remained at the head of the stairs. For quite a while I remained at
+the head of the stairs. Then I crope ..."
+
+"You what?"
+
+"I crope to the door of the picture gallery."
+
+"Oh, I see. Yes?"
+
+"Because the sneezing seemed to have come from there. And then I heard
+another sneeze. Two or three sneezes, Mr. John. As if whoever was in
+there had got a nasty cold in the head. And then I heard footsteps
+coming toward the door."
+
+"What did you do?"
+
+"I went back to the head of the stairs again, sir. If anybody had told
+me half an hour before that I could have moved so quick I wouldn't
+have believed him. And then out of the door came a man carrying a bag.
+He had one of those electric torches. He went down the stairs, but it
+was only when he was at the bottom that I caught even a glimpse of his
+face."
+
+"But you did then?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John, for just a moment. And I was stottled."
+
+"Why? You mean he was somebody you knew?"
+
+The butler lowered his voice again.
+
+"I could have sworn, Mr. John, it was that Doctor Twist who came over
+here the other day from Healthward Ho."
+
+"Doctor Twist!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. John. I didn't tell the policeman just now, and I wouldn't
+tell anybody but you, because after all it was only a glimpse, as
+you might say, and I couldn't swear to it, and there's defamation of
+character to be considered. So I didn't mention it to Mr. Mould when
+he was inquiring of me. I said I'd heard nothing, being in my bed at
+the time. Because, apart from defamation of character and me not being
+prepared to swear on oath, I wasn't sure how Mr. Carmody would like the
+idea of my going to the dining-room cellarette even though in agonies
+of pain. So I'd be much obliged if you would not mention it to him, Mr.
+John."
+
+"I won't."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"You'd better leave me to think this over, Sturgis."
+
+"Very good, Mr. John."
+
+"You were quite right to tell me."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. John. Are you coming downstairs to finish your
+breakfast, sir?"
+
+John waved away the material suggestion.
+
+"No. I want to think."
+
+"Very good, Mr. John."
+
+Left alone, John walked to the window and frowned meditatively out.
+His brain was now working with a rapidity and clearness which the most
+professional of detectives might have envied. For the first time since
+his cousin Hugo had come to him to have his head repaired he began to
+realize that there might have been something, after all, in that young
+man's rambling story. Taken in conjunction with what Sturgis had just
+told him, Hugo's weird tale of finding Doctor Twist burgling the house
+became significant.
+
+This Twist, now. After all, what about him? He had come from nowhere to
+settle down in Worcestershire, ostensibly in order to conduct a health
+farm. But what if that health farm were a mere blind for more dastardly
+work. After all, it was surely a commonplace that your scientific
+criminal invariably adopted some specious cover of respectability for
+his crimes....
+
+Into the radius of John's vision there came Mr. Thomas G. Molloy,
+walking placidly beside the moat with his dashing daughter. It seemed
+to John as if he had been sent at just this moment for a purpose.
+What he wanted above all things was a keen-minded sensible man of the
+world with whom to discuss these suspicions of his, and who was better
+qualified for this rôle than Mr. Molloy? Long since he had fallen
+under the spell of the other's magnetic personality, and had admired
+the breadth of his intellect. Thomas G. Molloy was, it seemed to him,
+the ideal confidant.
+
+He left the room hurriedly, and ran down the stairs.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+Mr. Molloy was still strolling beside the moat when John arrived. He
+greeted him with his usual bluff kindliness. Soapy, like John some half
+hour earlier, was feeling amiably disposed toward all mankind this
+morning.
+
+"Well, well, well!" said Soapy. "So you're back? Did you have a
+pleasant time in London?"
+
+"All right, thanks. I wanted to see you...."
+
+"You've heard about this unfortunate business last night?"
+
+"Yes. It was about that...."
+
+"I have never been so upset by anything in my life," said Mr. Molloy.
+"By pure bad luck Dolly here and myself went over to Birmingham
+after dinner to see a show, and in our absence the outrage must have
+occurred. I venture to say," went on Mr. Molloy, a stern look creeping
+into his eyes, "that if only I'd been on the spot the thing could never
+have happened. My hearing's good, and I'm pretty quick on a trigger,
+Mr. Carroll--pretty quick, let me tell you. It would have taken a right
+smart burglar to have gotten past me."
+
+"You bet it would," said Dolly. "Gee! It's a pity. And the man didn't
+leave a single trace, did he?"
+
+"A fingerprint--or it may have been a thumb print--on the sill of the
+window, honey. That was all. And I don't see what good that's going to
+do us. You can't round up the population of England and ask to see
+their thumbs."
+
+"And outside of that not so much as a single trace. Isn't it too bad!
+From start to finish not a soul set eyes on the fellow."
+
+"Yes, they did," said John. "That's what I came to talk to you about.
+One of the servants heard a noise and came out and saw him going down
+the staircase."
+
+If he had failed up to this point to secure the undivided attention of
+his audience, he had got it now. Miss Molloy seemed suddenly to come
+all eyes, and so tremendous were the joy and relief of Mr. Molloy that
+he actually staggered.
+
+"Saw him?" exclaimed Miss Molloy.
+
+"Sus-saw him?" echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.
+
+"Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?"
+
+"Twist?" said Mr. Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled
+his forehead. "Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?"
+
+"The name seems kind of familiar," admitted Miss Molloy.
+
+"He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My
+uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go
+to get into condition--a sort of health farm, I suppose you would call
+it."
+
+"Of course, yes. I have heard Mr. Carmody speak of his friend Twist.
+But...."
+
+"Apparently he called here the other day--to see my uncle, I
+suppose--and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced
+that he was the burglar."
+
+"Improbable, surely?" Mr. Molloy seemed still to be having a little
+trouble with his breath. "Surely not very probable. This man Twist,
+from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why,
+therefore.... Besides, if he owns a prosperous business...."
+
+John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument.
+Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a
+bloodhound for tenacity.
+
+"I've thought of all that. I admit it did seem curious at first. But
+if you come to look into it you can see that the very thing a burglar
+who wanted to operate in these parts would do is to start some business
+that would make people unsuspicious of him."
+
+Mr. Molloy shook his head.
+
+"It sounds far-fetched to me."
+
+John's opinion of his sturdy good sense began to diminish.
+
+"Well, anyhow," he said in his solid way, "this servant is sure he
+recognized Twist, and one can't do any harm by going over there and
+having a look at the man. I've got quite a good excuse for seeing him.
+My uncle's having a dispute about his bill, and I can say I came over
+to discuss it."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Molloy in a strained voice. "But----"
+
+"Sure you can," said Miss Molloy, with sudden animation. "Smart of you
+to think of that. You need an excuse, if you don't want to make this
+Twist fellow suspicious."
+
+"Exactly," said John.
+
+He looked at the girl with something resembling approval.
+
+"And there's another thing," proceeded Miss Molloy, warming to her
+subject. "Don't forget that this bird, if he's the man that did the
+burgling last night, has a cut finger or thumb. If you find this Twist
+is going around with sticking plaster on him, why then that'll be
+evidence."
+
+John's approval deepened.
+
+"That's a great idea," he agreed. "What I was thinking was that I
+wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head."
+
+"A kuk-kuk-kuk...?" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my
+informant tells me."
+
+"Well, say, this begins to look like the goods," cried Miss Molloy
+gleefully. "If this fellow has a cut thumb _and_ a cold in the head,
+there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false
+whiskers and saying 'I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!' Say, listen. You
+get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to
+Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the
+more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been
+whooping it up a little too heavily for some time past, and I want to
+make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the
+stuff for a while. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist
+is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a
+fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would
+settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get
+that car out, Mr. Carroll, and we'll be off right away."
+
+John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase,
+he could not forget that his time to-day was ear-marked for other and
+higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist, of
+Healthward Ho.
+
+"I must be back here by a quarter to one," he said.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I must."
+
+"Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the week end with
+this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've
+done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police.
+It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve."
+
+"Of course," said John. "You're perfectly right. I'll have the car out
+in a couple of minutes."
+
+He hurried off. His views concerning Miss Molloy now were definitely
+favourable. She might not be the sort of girl he could ever like,
+she might not be the sort of girl he wanted staying at the Hall, but
+it was idle to deny that she had her redeeming qualities. About her
+intelligence, for instance, there was, he felt, no doubt whatsoever.
+
+And yet it was with regard to this intelligence that Soapy Molloy was
+at this very moment entertaining doubts of the gravest kind. His eyes
+were protruding a little, and he uttered an odd, strangled sound.
+
+"It's all right, you poor sap," said Dolly, meeting his shocked gaze
+with a confident unconcern.
+
+Soapy found speech.
+
+"All right? You say it's all right? How's it all right? If you hadn't
+pulled all that stuff...."
+
+"Say, listen!" said Dolly urgently. "Where's your sense? He would have
+gone over to see Chimp anyway, wouldn't he? Nothing we could have done
+would have headed him off that, would it? And he'd noticed Chimp had a
+cut finger, without my telling him, wouldn't he? All I've done is to
+make him think I'm on the level and working in cahoots with him."
+
+"What's the use of that?"
+
+"I'll tell you what use it is. I know what I'm doing. Listen, Soapy,
+you just race into the house and get those knock-out drops and give
+them to me. And make it snappy," said Dolly.
+
+As when on a day of rain and storm there appears among the clouds a
+tiny gleam of blue, so now, at those magic words "knock-out drops," did
+there flicker into Mr. Molloy's sombre face a faint suggestion of hope.
+
+"Don't you worry, Soapy. I've got this thing well in hand. When we've
+gone you jump to the 'phone and get Chimp on the wire and tell him this
+guy and I are on our way over. Tell him I'm bringing the kayo drops and
+I'll slip them to him as soon as I arrive. Tell him to be sure to have
+something to drink handy and to see that this bird gets a taste of it."
+
+"I get you, pettie!" Mr. Molloy's manner was full of a sort of
+awe-struck reverence, like that of some humble adherent of Napoleon
+listening to his great leader outlining plans for a forthcoming
+campaign; but nevertheless it was tinged with doubt. He had always
+admired his wife's broad, spacious outlook, but she was apt sometimes,
+he considered, in her fresh young enthusiasm, to overlook details.
+"But, pettie," he said, "is this wise? Don't forget you're not in
+Chicago now. I mean, supposing you do put this fellow to sleep, he's
+going to wake up pretty soon, isn't he? And when he does won't he raise
+an awful holler?"
+
+"I've got that all fixed. I don't know what sort of staff Chimp keeps
+over at that joint of his, but he's probably got assistants and all
+like that. Well, you tell him to tell them that there's a young lady
+coming over with a brother that wants looking after, and this brother
+has got to be given a sleeping draught and locked away somewhere to
+keep him from getting violent and doing somebody an injury. That'll get
+him out of the way long enough for us to collect the stuff and clear
+out. It's rapid action now, Soapy. Now that Chimp has gummed the game
+by letting himself be seen we've got to move quick. We've got to make
+our getaway to-day. So don't you go off wandering about the fields
+picking daisies after I've gone. You stick round that 'phone, because
+I'll be calling you before long. See?"
+
+"Honey," said Mr. Molloy devoutly, "I always said you were the brains
+of the firm, and I always will say it. I'd never have thought of a
+thing like this myself in a million years."
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+It was about an hour later that Sergeant-Major Flannery, seated at his
+ease beneath a shady elm in the garden of Healthward Ho, looked up
+from the novelette over which he had been relaxing his conscientious
+mind and became aware that he was in the presence of Youth and Beauty.
+Toward him, across the lawn, was walking a girl who, his experienced
+eye assured him at a single glance, fell into that limited division of
+the Sex which is embraced by the word "Pippin." Her willowy figure was
+clothed in some clinging material of a beige colour, and her bright
+hazel eyes, when she came close enough for them to be seen, touched in
+the Sergeant-Major's susceptible bosom a ready chord. He rose from his
+seat with easy grace, and his hand, falling from the salute, came to
+rest on the western section of his waxed moustache.
+
+"Nice morning, miss," he bellowed.
+
+It seemed to Sergeant-Major Flannery that this girl was gazing upon him
+as on some wonderful dream of hers that had unexpectedly come true, and
+he was thrilled. It was unlikely, he felt, that she was about to ask
+him to perform some great knightly service for her, but if she did he
+would spring smartly to attention and do it in a soldierly manner while
+she waited. Sergeant-Major Flannery was pro-Dolly from the first moment
+of their meeting.
+
+"Are you one of Doctor Twist's assistants?" asked Dolly.
+
+"I am his only assistant, miss. Sergeant-Major Flannery is the name."
+
+"Oh? Then you look after the patients here?"
+
+"That's right, miss."
+
+"Then it is you who will be in charge of my poor brother?" She uttered
+a little sigh, and there came into her hazel eyes a look of pain.
+
+"Your brother, miss? Are you the lady...."
+
+"Did Doctor Twist tell you about my brother?"
+
+"Yes, miss. The fellow who's been...."
+
+He paused, appalled. Only by a hair's-breadth had he stopped himself
+from using in the presence of this divine creature the hideous
+expression "mopping it up a bit."
+
+"Yes," said Dolly. "I see you know about it."
+
+"All I know about it, miss," said Sergeant-Major Flannery, "is that the
+doctor had me into the orderly room just now and said he was expecting
+a young lady to arrive with her brother, who needed attention. He said
+I wasn't to be surprised if I found myself called for to lend a hand in
+a roughhouse, because this bloke--because this patient was apt to get
+verlent."
+
+"My brother does get very violent," sighed Dolly. "I only hope he won't
+do you any injury."
+
+Sergeant-Major Flannery twitched his banana-like fingers and inflated
+his powerful chest. He smiled a complacent smile.
+
+"He won't do _me_ an injury, miss. I've had experience with...." Again
+he stopped just in time, on the very verge of shocking his companion's
+ears with the ghastly noun "souses" ... "with these sort of nervous
+cases," he amended. "Besides, the doctor says he's going to give the
+gentleman a little sleeping draught, which'll keep him as you might say
+'armless till he wakes up and finds himself under lock and key."
+
+"I see. Yes, that's a very good idea."
+
+"No sense in troubling trouble till trouble troubles you, as the saying
+is, miss," agreed the Sergeant-Major. "If you can do a thing in a nice,
+easy, tactful manner without verlence, then why use verlence? Has the
+gentleman been this way long, miss?"
+
+"Four years."
+
+"You ought to have had him in a home sooner."
+
+"I have put him into dozens of homes. But he always gets out. That's
+why I'm so worried."
+
+"He won't get out of Healthward Ho, miss."
+
+"He's very clever."
+
+It was on the tip of Sergeant-Major Flannery's tongue to point out
+that other people were clever, too, but he refrained, not so much from
+modesty as because at this moment he swallowed some sort of insect.
+When he had finished coughing he found that his companion had passed on
+to another aspect of the matter.
+
+"I left him alone with Doctor Twist. I wonder if that was safe."
+
+"Quite safe, miss," the Sergeant-Major assured her. "You can see the
+window's open and the room's on the ground floor. If there's trouble
+and the gentleman starts any verlence, all the doctor's got to do is to
+shout for 'elp and I'll get to the spot at the double and climb in and
+lend a hand."
+
+His visitor regarded him with a shy admiration.
+
+"It's such a relief to feel that there's someone like you here, Mr.
+Flannery. I'm sure you are wonderful in any kind of an emergency."
+
+"People have said so, miss," replied the Sergeant-Major, stroking his
+moustache and smiling another quiet smile.
+
+"But what's worrying me is what's going to happen when my brother comes
+to after the sleeping draught and finds that he is locked up. That's
+what I meant just now when I said he was so clever. The last place he
+was in they promised to see that he stayed there, but he talked them
+into letting him out. He said he belonged to some big family in the
+neighbourhood and had been shut up by mistake."
+
+"He won't get round _me_ that way, miss."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Quite sure, miss. If there's one thing you get used to in a place like
+this, it's artfulness. You wouldn't believe how artful some of these
+gentlemen can be. Only yesterday that Admiral Sir Rigby-Rudd toppled
+over in my presence after doing his bending and stretching exercises
+and said he felt faint and he was afraid it was his heart and would
+I go and get him a drop of brandy. Anything like the way he carried
+on when I just poured half a bucketful of cold water down his back
+instead, you never heard in your life. I'm on the watch all the time, I
+can tell you, miss. I wouldn't trust my own mother if she was in here,
+taking the cure. And it's no use arguing with them and pointing out to
+them that they came here voluntarily of their own free will, and are
+paying big money to be exercised and kept away from wines, spirits, and
+rich food. They just spend their whole time thinking up ways of being
+artful."
+
+"Do they ever try to bribe you?"
+
+"No, miss," said Mr. Flannery, a little wistfully. "I suppose they take
+a look at me and think--and see that I'm not the sort of fellow that
+would take bribes."
+
+"My brother is sure to offer you money to let him go."
+
+"How much--how much good," said Sergeant-Major Flannery carefully,
+"does he think that's going to do him?"
+
+"You wouldn't take it, would you?"
+
+"Who, me, miss? Take money to betray my trust, if you understand the
+expression?"
+
+"Whatever he offers you, I will double. You see, it's so very important
+that he is kept here, where he will be safe from temptation, Mr.
+Flannery," said Dolly, timidly, "I wish you would accept this."
+
+The Sergeant-Major felt a quickening of the spirit as he gazed upon the
+rustling piece of paper in her hand.
+
+"No, no, miss," he said, taking it. "It really isn't necessary."
+
+"I know. But I would rather you had it. You see, I'm afraid my brother
+may give you a lot of trouble."
+
+"Trouble's what I'm here for, miss," said Mr. Flannery bravely.
+"Trouble's what I draw my salary for. Besides, he can't give much
+trouble when he's under lock and key, as the saying is. Don't you
+worry, miss. We're going to make this brother of yours a different man.
+We...."
+
+"Oh!" cried Dolly.
+
+A head and shoulders had shot suddenly out of the study window--the
+head and shoulders of Doctor Twist. The voice of Doctor Twist sounded
+sharply above the droning of bees and insects.
+
+"Flannery!"
+
+"On the spot, sir."
+
+"Come here, Flannery. I want you."
+
+"You stay here, miss," counselled Sergeant-Major Flannery paternally.
+"There may be verlence."
+
+
+                                   V
+
+There were, however, when Dolly made her way to the study some five
+minutes later, no signs of anything of an exciting and boisterous
+nature having occurred recently in the room. The table was unbroken,
+the carpet unruffled. The chairs stood in their places, and not even a
+picture glass had been cracked. It was evident that the operations had
+proceeded according to plan, and that matters had been carried through
+in what Sergeant-Major Flannery would have termed a nice, easy, tactful
+manner.
+
+"Everything jake?" inquired Dolly.
+
+"Uh-hum," said Chimp, speaking, however, in a voice that quavered a
+little.
+
+Mr. Twist was the only object in the room that looked in any way
+disturbed. He had turned an odd greenish colour, and from time to time
+he swallowed uneasily. Although he had spent a lifetime outside the
+law, Chimp Twist was essentially a man of peace and accustomed to look
+askance at any by-product of his profession that seemed to him to come
+under the heading of rough stuff. This doping of respectable visitors,
+he considered, was distinctly so to be classified; and only Mr.
+Molloy's urgency over the telephone wire had persuaded him to the task.
+He was nervous and apprehensive, in a condition to start at sudden
+noises.
+
+"What happened?"
+
+"Well, I did what Soapy said. After you left us the guy and I talked
+back and forth for a while, and then I agreed to knock a bit off the
+old man's bill, and then I said 'How about a little drink?' and then we
+have a little drink, and then I slip the stuff you gave me in while he
+wasn't looking. It didn't seem like it was going to act at first."
+
+"It don't. It takes a little time. You don't feel nothing till you
+jerk your head or move yourself, and then it's like as if somebody has
+beaned you one with an iron girder or something. So they tell me," said
+Dolly.
+
+"I guess he must have jerked his head, then. Because all of a sudden
+he went down and out," Chimp gulped. "You--you don't think he's ... I
+mean, you're sure this stuff...?"
+
+Dolly had nothing but contempt for these masculine tremors.
+
+"Of course. Do you suppose I go about the place croaking people? He's
+all right."
+
+"Well, he didn't look it. If I'd been a life-insurance company I'd have
+paid up on him without a yip."
+
+"He'll wake up with a headache in a little while, but outside of that
+he'll be as well as he ever was. Where have you been all your life that
+you don't know how kayo drops act?"
+
+"I've never had occasion to be connected with none of this raw work
+before," said Chimp virtuously. "If you'd of seen him when he slumped
+down on the table, you wouldn't be feeling so good yourself, maybe. If
+ever I saw a guy that looked like he was qualified to step straight
+into a coffin, he was him."
+
+"Aw, be yourself, Chimp!"
+
+"I'm being myself all right, all right."
+
+"Well, then, for Pete's sake, be somebody else. Pull yourself together,
+why can't you. Have a drink."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Twist, struck with the idea.
+
+His hand was still shaking, but he accomplished the delicate task of
+mixing a whisky and soda without disaster.
+
+"What did you with the remains?" asked Dolly, interested.
+
+Mr. Twist, who had been raising the glass to his lips, lowered it
+again. He disapproved of levity of speech at such a moment.
+
+"Would you kindly not call him 'the remains,'" he begged. "It's all
+very well for you to be so easy about it all and to pull this stuff
+about him doing nothing but wake up with a headache, but what I'm
+asking myself is, will he wake up at all?"
+
+"Oh, cut it out! Sure, he'll wake up."
+
+"But will it be in this world?"
+
+"You drink that up, you poor dumb-bell, and then fix yourself another,"
+advised Dolly. "And make it a bit stronger next time. You seem to need
+it."
+
+Mr. Twist did as directed, and found the treatment beneficial.
+
+"You've nothing to grumble at," Dolly proceeded, still looking on the
+bright side. "What with all this excitement and all, you seem to have
+lost that cold of yours."
+
+"That's right," said Chimp, impressed. "It does seem to have got a
+whole lot better."
+
+"Pity you couldn't have got rid of it a little earlier. Then we
+wouldn't have had all this trouble. From what I can make of it, you
+seem to have roused the house by sneezing your head off, and a bunch of
+the help come and stood looking over the banisters at you."
+
+Chimp tottered. "You don't mean somebody saw me last night?"
+
+"Sure they saw you. Didn't Soapy tell you that over the wire?"
+
+"I could hardly make out all Soapy was saying over the wire. Say! What
+are we going to do?"
+
+"Don't you worry. We've done it. The only difficult part is over. Now
+that we've fixed the remains...."
+
+"Will you please...!"
+
+"Well, call him what you like. Now that we've fixed that guy the
+thing's simple. By the way, what did you do with him?"
+
+"Flannery took him upstairs."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"There's a room on the top floor. Must have been a nursery or
+something, I guess. Anyway, there's bars to the windows."
+
+"How's the door?"
+
+"Good solid oak. You've got to hand it to the guys who built these old
+English houses. They knew their groceries. When they spit on their
+hands and set to work to make a door, they made one. You couldn't push
+that door down, not if you was an elephant."
+
+"Well, that's all right, then. Now, listen, Chimp. Here's the low-down.
+We...." She broke off. "What's that?"
+
+"What's what?" asked Mr. Twist, starting violently.
+
+"I thought I heard someone outside in the corridor. Go and look."
+
+With an infinite caution born of alarm, Mr. Twist crept across the
+floor, reached the door and flung it open. The passage was empty. He
+looked up and down it, and Dolly, whose fingers had hovered for an
+instant over the glass which he had left on the table, sat back with an
+air of content.
+
+"My mistake," she said. "I thought I heard something."
+
+Chimp returned to the table. He was still much perturbed.
+
+"I wish I'd never gone into this thing," he said, with a sudden gush of
+self-pity. "I felt all along, what with seeing that magpie and the new
+moon through glass...."
+
+"Now, listen!" said Dolly vigorously. "Considering you've stood Soapy
+and me up for practically all there is in this thing except a little
+small change, I'll ask you kindly, if you don't mind, not to stand
+there beefing and expecting me to hold your hand and pat you on the
+head and be a second mother to you. You came into this business because
+you wanted it. You're getting sixty-five per cent. of the gross. So
+what's biting you? You're all right so far."
+
+It was in Mr. Twist's mind to inquire of his companion precisely what
+she meant by this expression, but more urgent matter claimed his
+attention. More even than the exact interpretation of the phrase "so
+far," he wished to know what the next move was.
+
+"What happens now?" he asked.
+
+"We go back to Rudge."
+
+"And collect the stuff?"
+
+"Yes. And then make our getaway."
+
+No programme could have outlined more admirably Mr. Twist's own
+desires. The mere contemplation of it heartened him. He snatched
+his glass from the table and drained it with a gesture almost
+swash-buckling.
+
+"Soapy will have doped the old man by this time, eh?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"But suppose he hasn't been able to?" said Mr. Twist with a return of
+his old nervousness. "Suppose he hasn't had an opportunity?"
+
+"You can always find an opportunity of doping people. You ought to know
+that."
+
+The implied compliment pleased Chimp.
+
+"That's right," he chuckled.
+
+He nodded his head complacently. And immediately something which may
+have been an iron girder or possibly the ceiling and the upper parts of
+the house seemed to strike him on the base of the skull. He had been
+standing by the table, and now, crumpling at the knees, he slid gently
+down to the floor. Dolly, regarding him, recognized instantly what he
+had meant just now when he had spoken of John appearing like a total
+loss to his life-insurance company. The best you could have said of
+Alexander Twist at this moment was that he looked peaceful. She drew in
+her breath a little sharply, and then, being a woman at heart, took a
+cushion from the armchair and placed it beneath his head.
+
+Only then did she go to the telephone and in a gentle voice ask the
+operator to connect her with Rudge Hall.
+
+"Soapy?"
+
+"Hello!"
+
+The promptitude with which the summons of the bell had been answered
+brought a smile of approval to her lips. Soapy, she felt, must have
+been sitting with his head on the receiver.
+
+"Listen, sweetie."
+
+"I'm listening, pettie!"
+
+"Everything's set."
+
+"Have you fixed that guy?"
+
+"Sure, precious. And Chimp, too."
+
+"How's that? Chimp?"
+
+"Sure. We don't want Chimp around, do we, with that
+sixty-five--thirty-five stuff of his? I just slipped a couple of drops
+into his highball and he's gone off as peaceful as a lamb. Say, wait
+a minute," she added, as the wire hummed with Mr. Molloy's low-voiced
+congratulations. "Hello!" she said, returning.
+
+"What were you doing, honey? Did you hear somebody?"
+
+"No. I caught sight of a bunch of lilies in a vase, and I just slipped
+across and put one of them in Chimp's hand. Made it seem more sort of
+natural. Now listen, Soapy. Everything's clear for you at your end
+now, so go right ahead and clean up. I'm going to beat it in that guy
+Carroll's runabout, and I haven't much time, so don't start talking
+about the weather or nothing. I'm going to London, to the Belvidere.
+You collect the stuff and meet me there. Is that all straight?"
+
+"But, pettie!"
+
+"Now what?"
+
+"How am I to get the stuff away?"
+
+"For goodness' sake! You can drive a car, can't you? Old Carmody's car
+was outside the stable yard when I left. I guess it's there still. Get
+the stuff and then go and tell the chauffeur that old Carmody wants to
+see him. Then, when he's gone, climb in and drive to Birmingham. Leave
+the car outside the station and take a train. That's simple enough,
+isn't it?"
+
+There was a long pause. Admiration seemed to have deprived Mr. Molloy
+of speech.
+
+"Honey," he said at length, in a hushed voice, "when it comes to the
+real smooth stuff you're there every time. Let me just tell you...."
+
+"All right, baby," said Dolly. "Save it till later. I'm in a hurry."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+
+                                   I
+
+Soapy Molloy replaced the receiver, and came out of the telephone
+cupboard glowing with the resolve to go right ahead and clean up as his
+helpmeet had directed. Like all good husbands, he felt that his wife
+was an example and an inspiration to him. Mopping his fine forehead,
+for it had been warm in the cupboard with the door shut, he stood for a
+while and mused, sketching out in his mind a plan of campaign.
+
+The prudent man, before embarking on any enterprise which may at a
+moment's notice necessitate his skipping away from a given spot like a
+scalded cat, will always begin by preparing his lines of retreat. Mr.
+Molloy's first act was to go to the stable yard in order to ascertain
+with his own eyes that the Dex-Mayo was still there.
+
+It was. It stood out on the gravel, simply waiting for someone to
+spring to its wheel and be off.
+
+So far, so good. But how far actually was it? The really difficult part
+of the operations, Mr. Molloy could not but recognize, still lay before
+him. The knock-out drops nestled in his waistcoat pocket all ready for
+use, but in order to bring about the happy ending it was necessary for
+him, like some conjuror doing a trick, to transfer them thence to the
+interior of Mr. Lester Carmody. And little by little, chilling his
+enthusiasm, there crept upon Soapy the realization that he had not a
+notion how the deuce this was to be done.
+
+The whole question of administering knock-out drops to a fellow
+creature is a very delicate and complex one. So much depends on the
+co-operation of the party of the second part. Before you can get
+anything in the nature of action, your victim must first be induced to
+start drinking something. At Healthward Ho, Soapy had gathered from the
+recent telephone conversation, no obstacles had arisen. The thing had
+been, apparently, from the start a sort of jolly carousal. But at Rudge
+Hall, it was plain, matters were not going to be nearly so simple.
+
+When you are a guest in a man's house, you cannot very well go about
+thrusting drinks on your host at half-past eleven in the morning.
+Probably Mr. Carmody would not think of taking liquid refreshment till
+lunchtime, and then there would be a butler in and out of the room all
+the while. Besides, lunch would not be for another two hours or more,
+and the whole essence of this enterprise was that it should be put
+through swiftly and at once.
+
+Mr. Molloy groaned in spirit. He wandered forth into the garden,
+turning the problem over in his mind with growing desperation, and had
+just come to the conclusion that he was mentally unequal to it, when,
+reaching the low wall that bordered the moat, he saw a sight which sent
+the blood coursing joyously through his veins once more--a sight which
+made the world a thing of sunshine and bird song again.
+
+Out in the middle of the moat lay the punt. In the punt sat Mr.
+Carmody. And in Mr. Carmody's hand was a fishing rod.
+
+Æsthetically considered, wearing as he did a pink shirt and a slouch
+hat which should long ago have been given to the deserving poor, Mr.
+Carmody was not much of a spectacle, but Soapy, eyeing him, felt that
+he had never beheld anything lovelier. He was not a fisherman himself,
+but he knew all about fishermen. They became, he was aware, when
+engaged on their favourite pursuit, virtually monomaniacs. Earthquakes
+might occur in their immediate neighbourhood, dynasties fall and
+pestilences ravage the land, but they would just go on fishing. As long
+as the bait held out, Lester Carmody, sitting in that punt, was for all
+essential purposes as good as if he had been crammed to the brim of the
+finest knock-out drops. It was as though he were in another world.
+
+Exhilaration filled Soapy like a tonic.
+
+"Any luck?" he shouted.
+
+"Wah, wah, wah," replied Mr. Carmody inaudibly.
+
+"Stick to it," cried Soapy. "Atta-boy!"
+
+With an encouraging wave of the hand he hurried back to the house.
+The problem which a moment before had seemed to defy solution had now
+become so simple and easy that a child could have negotiated it--any
+child, that is to say, capable of holding a hatchet and endowed with
+sufficient strength to break a cupboard door with it.
+
+"I'm telling the birds, telling the bees," sang Soapy gaily, charging
+into the hall, "Telling the flowers, telling the trees how I love
+you...."
+
+"Sir?" said Sturgis respectfully, suddenly becoming manifest out of the
+infinite.
+
+Soapy gazed at the butler blankly, his wild wood-notes dying away in a
+guttural gurgle. Apart from the embarrassment which always comes upon
+a man when caught singing, he was feeling, as Sturgis himself would
+have put it, stottled. A moment before, the place had been completely
+free from butlers, and where this one could have come from was more
+than he could understand. Rudge Hall's old retainer did not look the
+sort of man who would pop up through traps, but there seemed no other
+explanation of his presence.
+
+And then, close to the cupboard door, Soapy espied another door,
+covered with green baize. This, evidently, was the Sturgis bolt-hole.
+
+"Nothing," he said.
+
+"I thought you called, sir."
+
+"No."
+
+"Lovely day, sir."
+
+"Beautiful," said Soapy.
+
+He gazed bulgily at this inconvenient old fossil. Once more, shadows
+had fallen about his world, and he was brooding again on the deep gulf
+that is fixed between artistic conception and detail work.
+
+The broad, artistic conception of breaking open the cupboard door and
+getting away with the swag while Mr. Carmody, anchored out on the moat,
+dabbled for bream or dibbled for chub or sniggled for eels or whatever
+weak-minded thing it is that fishermen do when left to themselves in
+the middle of a sheet of water, was magnificent. It was bold, dashing,
+big in every sense of the word. Only when you came to inspect it in
+detail did it occur to you that it might also be a little noisy.
+
+That was the fatal flaw--the noise. The more Soapy examined the scheme,
+the more clearly did he see that it could not be carried through in
+even comparative quiet. And the very first blow of the hammer or axe or
+chisel selected for the operation must inevitably bring Methuselah's
+little brother popping through that green baize door, full of inquiries.
+
+"Hell!" said Soapy.
+
+"Sir?"
+
+"Nothing," said Soapy. "I was just thinking."
+
+He continued to think, and to such effect that before long he had begun
+to see daylight. There is no doubt that in time of stress the human
+mind has an odd tendency to take off its coat and roll up its sleeves
+and generally spread itself in a spasm of unwonted energy. Probably if
+this thing had been put up to Mr. Molloy as an academic problem over
+the nuts and wine after dinner, he would have had to confess himself
+baffled. Now, however, with such vital issues at stake, it took him
+but a few minutes to reach the conclusion that what he required, as he
+could not break open a cupboard door in silence, was some plausible
+reason for making a noise.
+
+He followed up this line of thought. A noise of smashing wood. In what
+branch of human activity may a man smash wood blamelessly? The answer
+is simple. When he is doing carpentering. What sort of carpentering?
+Why, making something. What? Oh, anything. Yes, but what? Well, say for
+example a rabbit hutch. But why a rabbit hutch? Well, a man might very
+easily have a daughter who, in her girlish, impulsive way, had decided
+to keep pet rabbits, mightn't he? There actually were pet rabbits on
+the Rudge Hall estate, weren't there? Certainly there were. Soapy had
+seen them down at one of the lodges.
+
+The thing began to look good. It only remained to ascertain whether
+Sturgis was the right recipient for this kind of statement. The world
+may be divided broadly into two classes--men who will believe you when
+you suddenly inform them at half-past eleven on a summer morning that
+you propose to start making rabbit hutches, and men who will not.
+Sturgis looked as if he belonged to the former and far more likeable
+class. He looked, indeed, like a man who would believe anything.
+
+"Say!" said Soapy.
+
+"Sir?"
+
+"My daughter wants me to make her a rabbit hutch."
+
+"Indeed, sir?"
+
+Soapy felt relieved. There had been no incredulity in the other's
+gaze--on the contrary, something that looked very much like a sort of
+senile enthusiasm. He had the air of a butler who had heard good news
+from home.
+
+"Have you got such a thing as a packing case or a sugar box or
+something like that? And a hatchet?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then fetch them along."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+The butler disappeared through his green baize door, and Soapy, to fill
+in the time of waiting, examined the cupboard. It appeared to be a
+very ordinary sort of cupboard, the kind that a resolute man can open
+with one well-directed blow. Soapy felt complacent. Though primarily a
+thinker, it pleased him to feel that he could be the man of action when
+the occasion called.
+
+There was a noise of bumping without. Sturgis reappeared, packing case
+in one hand, hatchet in the other, looking like Noah taking ship's
+stores aboard the Ark.
+
+"Here they are, sir."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"I used to keep roberts when I was a lad, sir," said the butler. "Oh,
+dear, yes. Many's the robert I've made a pet of in my time. Roberts and
+white mice, those were what I was fondest of. And newts in a little
+aquarium."
+
+He leaned easily against the wall, beaming, and Soapy, with deep
+concern, became aware that the Last of the Great Victorians proposed to
+make this thing a social gathering. He appeared to be regarding Soapy
+as the nucleus of a salon.
+
+"Don't let me keep you," said Soapy.
+
+"You aren't keeping me, sir," the butler assured him. "Oh, no, sir, you
+aren't keeping me. I've done my silver. It will be a pleasure to watch
+you, sir. Quite likely I can give you a hint or two if you've never
+made a robert hutch before. Many's the hutch I've made in my time. As a
+lad, I was very handy at that sort of thing."
+
+A dull despair settled upon Soapy. It was plain to him now that he had
+unwittingly delivered himself over into the clutches of a bore who
+had probably been pining away for someone on whom to pour out his
+wealth of stored-up conversation. Words had begun to flutter out of
+this butler like bats out of a barn. He had become a sort of human
+Topical Talk on rabbits. He was speaking of rabbits he had known in
+his hot youth--their manners, customs, and the amount of lettuce they
+had consumed per diem. To a man interested in rabbits but too lazy to
+look the subject up in the encyclopædia the narrative would have been
+enthralling. It induced in Soapy a feverishness that touched the skirts
+of homicidal mania. The thought came into his mind that there are
+other uses to which a hatchet may be put besides the making of rabbit
+hutches. England trembled on the verge of being short one butler.
+
+Sturgis had now become involved in a long story of his early manhood,
+and even had Soapy been less distrait he might have found it difficult
+to enjoy it to the full. It was about an acquaintance of his who had
+kept rabbits, and it suffered in lucidity from his unfortunate habit
+of pronouncing rabbits "roberts," combined with the fact that by a
+singular coincidence the acquaintance had been a Mr. Roberts. Roberts,
+it seemed, had been deeply attached to roberts. In fact, his practice
+of keeping roberts in his bedroom had led to trouble with Mrs. Roberts,
+and in the end Mrs. Roberts had drowned the roberts in the pond and
+Roberts, who thought the world of his roberts and not quite so highly
+of Mrs. Roberts, had never forgiven her.
+
+Here Sturgis paused, apparently for comment.
+
+"Is that so?" said Soapy, breathing heavily.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"In the pond?"
+
+"In the pond, sir."
+
+Like some Open Sesame, the word suddenly touched a chord in Soapy's
+mind.
+
+"Say, listen," he said. "All the while we've been talking I was
+forgetting that Mr. Carmody is out there on the pond."
+
+"The moat, sir?"
+
+"Call it what you like. Anyway, he's there, fishing, and he told me to
+tell you to take him out something to drink."
+
+Immediately, Sturgis, the lecturer, with a change almost startling in
+its abruptness, became Sturgis, the butler, once more. The fanatic
+rabbit-gleam died out of his eyes.
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"I should hurry. His tongue was hanging out when I left him."
+
+For an instant the butler wavered. The words had recalled to his mind a
+lop-eared doe which he had once owned, whose habit of putting out its
+tongue and gasping had been the cause of some concern to him in the
+late 'seventies. But he recovered himself. Registering a mental resolve
+to seek out this new-made friend of his later and put the complete
+facts before him, he passed through the green baize door.
+
+Soapy, alone at last, did not delay. With all the pent up energy which
+had been accumulating within him during a quarter of an hour which had
+seemed a lifetime, he swung the hatchet and brought it down. The panel
+splintered. The lock snapped. The door swung open.
+
+There was an electric switch inside the cupboard. He pressed it down
+and was able to see clearly. And, having seen clearly, he drew back,
+his lips trembling with half-spoken words of the regrettable kind which
+a man picks up in the course of a lifetime spent in the less refined
+social circles of New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago.
+
+The cupboard contained an old raincoat, two hats, a rusty golf club,
+six croquet balls, a pamphlet on stock-breeding, three umbrellas, a
+copy of the _Parish Magazine_ for the preceding November, a shoe, a
+mouse, and a smell of apples, but no suitcase.
+
+That much Soapy had been able to see in the first awful, disintegrating
+instant.
+
+No bag, box, portmanteau, or suitcase of any kind or description
+whatsoever.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Hope does not readily desert the human breast. After the first numbing
+impact of any shock, we most of us have a tendency to try to persuade
+ourselves that things may not be so bad as they seem. Some explanation,
+we feel, will be forthcoming shortly, putting the whole matter in a
+different light. And so, after a few moments during which he stood
+petrified, muttering some of the comments which on the face of it the
+situation seemed to demand, Soapy cheered up a little.
+
+He had had, he reflected, no opportunity of private speech with his
+host this morning. If Mr. Carmody had decided to change his plans and
+deposit the suitcase in some other hiding place he might have done so
+in quite good faith without Soapy's knowledge. For all he knew, in
+mentally labelling Mr. Carmody as a fat, pop-eyed, crooked, swindling,
+pie-faced, double-crossing Judas, he might be doing him an injustice.
+Feeling calmer, though still anxious, he left the house and started
+toward the moat.
+
+Half-way down the garden, he encountered Sturgis, returning with an
+empty tray.
+
+"You must have misunderstood Mr. Carmody, sir," said the butler,
+genially, as one rabbit fancier to another. "He says he did not ask for
+any drink. But he came ashore and had it. If you're looking for him,
+you will find him in the boathouse."
+
+And in the boathouse Mr. Carmody was, lolling at his ease on the
+cushions of the punt, sipping the contents of a long glass.
+
+"Hullo," said Mr. Carmody. "There you are."
+
+Soapy descended the steps. What he had to say was not the kind of thing
+a prudent man shouts at long range.
+
+"Say!" said Soapy in a cautious undertone. "I've been trying to get a
+word with you all the morning. But that darned policeman was around all
+the time."
+
+"Something on your mind?" said Mr. Carmody affably. "I've caught two
+perch, a bream, and a grayling," he added, finishing the contents of
+his glass with a good deal of relish.
+
+Such was the condition of Soapy's nervous system that he very nearly
+damned the perch, the bream, and the grayling, in the order named. But
+he checked himself in time. If ever, he felt, there was a moment when
+diplomacy was needed, this was it.
+
+"Listen," he said, "I've been thinking."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"I've been wondering if, after all, that closet you were going to put
+the stuff in is a safe place. Somebody might be apt to take a look in
+it. Maybe," said Soapy, tensely, "that occurred to you?"
+
+"What makes you think that?"
+
+"It just crossed my mind."
+
+"Oh? I thought perhaps you might have been having a look in that
+cupboard yourself."
+
+Soapy moistened his lips, which had become uncomfortably dry.
+
+"But you locked it, surely?" he said.
+
+"Yes, I locked it," said Mr. Carmody. "But it struck me that after you
+had got the butler out of the way by telling him to bring me a drink,
+you might have thought of breaking the door open."
+
+In the silence which followed this devastating remark there suddenly
+made itself heard an odd, gurgling noise like a leaking cistern, and
+Soapy, gazing at his host, was shocked to observe that he had given
+himself up to an apoplectic spasm of laughter. Mr. Carmody's rotund
+body was quivering like a jelly. His eyes were closed, and he was
+rocking himself to and fro. And from his lips proceeded those hideous
+sounds of mirth.
+
+The hope which until this moment had been sustaining Soapy had never
+been a strong, robust hope. From birth it had been an invalid. And now,
+as he listened to this laughter, the poor, sickly thing coughed quietly
+and died.
+
+"Oh dear!" said Mr. Carmody, recovering. "Very funny. Very funny."
+
+"You think it's funny, do you?" said Soapy.
+
+"I do," said Mr. Carmody sincerely. "I wish I could have seen your face
+when you looked in that cupboard."
+
+Soapy had nothing to say. He was beaten, crushed, routed, and he knew
+it. He stared out hopelessly on a bleak world. Outside the boathouse
+the sun was still shining, but not for Soapy.
+
+"I've seen through you all along, my man," proceeded Mr. Carmody, with
+ungenerous triumph. "Not from the very beginning, perhaps, because I
+really did suppose for a while that you were what you professed to be.
+The first thing that made me suspicious was when I cabled over to New
+York to make inquiries about a well-known financier named Thomas G.
+Molloy and was informed that no such person existed."
+
+Soapy did not speak. The bitterness of his meditations precluded words.
+His eyes were fixed on the trees and flowers on the other side of the
+water, and he was disliking these very much. Nature had done its best
+for the scene, and he thought Nature a washout.
+
+"And then," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "I listened outside the study window
+while you and your friends were having your little discussion. And
+I heard all I wanted to hear. Next time you have one of these board
+meetings of yours, Mr. Molloy, I suggest that you close the window and
+lower your voices."
+
+"Yeah?" said Soapy.
+
+It was not, he forced himself to admit, much of a retort, but it was
+the best he could think of. He was in the depths, and men who are in
+the depths seldom excel in the matter of rapier-like repartee.
+
+"I thought the matter over, and decided that my best plan was to allow
+matters to proceed. I was disappointed, of course, to discover that
+that cheque of yours for a million or two million or whatever it was
+would not be coming my way. But," said Mr. Carmody philosophically,
+"there is always the insurance money. It should amount to a nice little
+sum. Not what a man like you, accustomed to big transactions with Mr.
+Schwab and Pierpont Morgan, would call much, of course, but quite
+satisfactory to me."
+
+"You think so?" said Soapy, goaded to speech. "You think you're going
+to clean up on the insurance?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"Then, say, listen, let me tell you something. The insurance company
+is going to send a fellow down to inquire, isn't it? Well, what's to
+prevent me spilling the beans?"
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"What's to keep me from telling him the burglary was a put-up job?"
+
+Mr. Carmody smiled tranquilly.
+
+"Your good sense, I should imagine. How could you make such a story
+credible without involving yourself in more unpleasantness than I
+should imagine you would desire? I think I shall be able to rely on you
+for sympathetic silence, Mr. Molloy."
+
+"Yeah?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+And Soapy, reflecting, thought so, too. For the process of
+bean-spilling to be enjoyable, he realized, the conditions have to be
+right.
+
+"I am offering a little reward," said Mr. Carmody, gently urging the
+punt out into the open, "just to make everything seem more natural.
+One thousand pounds is the sum I am proposing to give for the recovery
+of this stolen property. You had better try for that. Well, I must not
+keep you here all the morning, chattering away like this. No doubt you
+have much to do."
+
+The punt floated out into the sunshine, and the roof of the boathouse
+hid this fat, conscienceless man from Soapy's eyes. From somewhere out
+in the great open spaces beyond came the sound of a paddle, wielded
+with a care-free joyousness. Whatever might be his guest's state of
+mind, Mr. Carmody was plainly in the pink.
+
+Soapy climbed the steps listlessly. The interview had left him weak
+and shaken. He brooded dully on this revelation of the inky depths of
+Lester Carmody's soul. It seemed to him that if this was what England's
+upper classes (who ought to be setting an example) were like, Great
+Britain could not hope to continue much longer as a first-class power,
+and it gave him in his anguish a little satisfaction to remember that
+in years gone by his ancestors had thrown off Britain's yoke. Beyond
+burning his eyebrows one Fourth of July, when a boy, with a maroon
+that exploded prematurely, he had never thought much about this affair
+before, but now he was conscious of a glow of patriotic fervour. If
+General Washington had been present at that moment Soapy would have
+shaken hands with him.
+
+Soapy wandered aimlessly through the sunlit garden. The little spurt
+of consolation caused by the reflection that some hundred and fifty
+years ago the United States of America had severed relations with a
+country which was to produce a man like Lester Carmody had long since
+ebbed away, leaving emptiness behind it. He was feeling very low, and
+in urgent need of one of those largely advertised tonics which claim to
+relieve Anæmia, Brain-Fag, Lassitude, Anxiety, Palpitations, Faintness,
+Melancholia, Exhaustion, Neurasthenia, Muscular Limpness, and
+Depression of Spirits. For he had got them all, especially brain-fag
+and melancholia; and the sudden appearance of Sturgis, fluttering
+toward him down the gravel path, provided nothing in the nature of a
+cure.
+
+He felt that he had had all he wanted of the butler's conversation.
+Even of the most stimulating society enough is enough, and to Soapy
+about half a minute of Sturgis seemed a good medium dose for an adult.
+He would have fled, but there was nowhere to go. He remained where he
+was, making his expression as forbidding as possible. A motion-picture
+director could have read that expression like a book. Soapy was
+registering deep disinclination to talk about rabbits.
+
+But for the moment, it appeared, Sturgis had put rabbits on one side.
+Other matters occupied his mind.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but have you seen Mr. John?"
+
+"Mr. who?"
+
+"Mr. John, sir."
+
+So deep was Soapy's preoccupation that for a moment the name conveyed
+nothing to him.
+
+"Mr. Carmody's nephew, sir. Mr. Carroll."
+
+"Oh? Yes, he went off in his car with my daughter."
+
+"Will he be gone long, do you think, sir?"
+
+Soapy could answer that one.
+
+"Yes," he said. "He won't be back for some time."
+
+"You see, when I took Mr. Carmody his drink, sir, he told me to tell
+Bolt, the chauffeur, to give me the ticket."
+
+"What ticket?" asked Soapy wearily.
+
+The butler was only too glad to reply. He had feared that this talk of
+theirs might be about to end all too quickly, and these explanations
+helped to prolong it. And, now that he knew that there was no need to
+go on searching for John, his time was his own again.
+
+"It was a ticket for a bag which Mr. Carmody sent Bolt to leave at the
+cloak room at Shrub Hill station, in Worcester, this morning, sir. I
+now ascertain from Bolt that he gave it to Mr. John to give to Mr.
+Carmody."
+
+"What!" cried Soapy.
+
+"And Mr. John has apparently gone off without giving it to him.
+However, no doubt it is quite safe. Did you make satisfactory progress
+with the hutch, sir?"
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"The robert hutch, sir."
+
+"What?"
+
+A look of concern came into Sturgis's face. His companion's manner was
+strange.
+
+"Is anything the matter, sir?"
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Shall I bring you something to drink, sir?"
+
+Few men ever become so distrait that this particular question fails to
+penetrate. Soapy nodded feverishly. Something to drink was precisely
+what at this moment he felt he needed most. Moreover, the process of
+fetching it would relieve him for a time, at least, of the society of
+a butler who seemed to combine in equal proportions the outstanding
+characteristics of a porous plaster and a gadfly.
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+
+                                  III
+
+Soapy's mind was in a whirl. He could almost feel the brains inside his
+head heaving and tossing like an angry ocean. So that was what that
+smooth old crook had done with the stuff--stored it away in a Left
+Luggage office at a railway station! If circumstances had been such
+as to permit of a more impartial and detached attitude of mind, Soapy
+would have felt for Mr. Carmody's resource and ingenuity nothing but
+admiration. A Left Luggage office was an ideal place in which to store
+stolen property, as good as the innermost recesses of some safe deposit
+company's deepest vault.
+
+But, numerous as were the emotions surging in his bosom, admiration was
+not one of them. For a while he gave himself up almost entirely to that
+saddest of mental exercises, the brooding on what might have been. If
+only he had known that John had the ticket...!
+
+But he was a practical man. It was not his way to waste time torturing
+himself with thoughts of past failures. The future claimed his
+attention.
+
+What to do?
+
+All, he perceived, was not yet lost. It would be absurd to pretend
+that things were shaping themselves ideally, but disaster might still
+be retrieved. It would be embarrassing, no doubt, to meet Chimp Twist
+after what had occurred, but a man who would win to wealth must learn
+to put up with embarrassments. The only possible next move was to go
+over to Healthward Ho, reveal to Chimp what had occurred, and with his
+co-operation recover the ticket from John.
+
+Soapy brightened. Another possibility had occurred to him. If he were
+to reach Healthward Ho with the minimum of delay, it might be that
+he would find both Chimp and John still under the influence of those
+admirable drops, in which case a man of his resource would surely be
+able to insinuate himself into John's presence long enough to be able
+to remove a Left Luggage ticket from his person.
+
+But if 'twere done, then, 'twere well 'twere done quickly. What he
+needed was the Dex-Mayo. And the Dex-Mayo was standing outside the
+stable yard, waiting for him. He became a thing of dash and activity.
+For many years he had almost given up the exercise of running, but he
+ran now like the lissom athlete he had been in his early twenties.
+
+And as he came panting round the back of the house the first thing he
+saw was the tail end of the car disappearing into the stable yard.
+
+"Hi!" shouted Soapy, using for the purpose the last remains of his
+breath.
+
+The Dex-Mayo vanished. And Soapy, very nearly a spent force now,
+arrived at the opening of the stable yard just in time to see Bolt, the
+chauffeur, putting the key of the garage in his pocket after locking
+the door.
+
+Bolt was a thing of beauty. He gleamed in the sunshine. He was wearing
+a new hat, his Sunday clothes, and a pair of yellow shoes that might
+have been bits chipped off the sun itself. There was a carnation in his
+buttonhole. He would have lent tone to a garden party at Buckingham
+Palace.
+
+He regarded Soapy with interest.
+
+"Been having a little run, sir?"
+
+"The car!" croaked Soapy.
+
+"I've just put it away, sir. Mr. Carmody has given me the day off to
+attend the wedding of the wife's niece over at Upton Snodsbury."
+
+"I want the car."
+
+"I've just put it away, sir," said Bolt, speaking more slowly and with
+the manner of one explaining something to an untutored foreigner. "Mr.
+Carmody has given me the day off. Mrs. Bolt's niece is being married
+over at Upton Snodsbury. And she's got a lovely day for it," said the
+chauffeur, glancing at the sky with something as near approval as a
+chauffeur ever permits himself. "Happy the bride that the sun shines
+on, they say. Not that I agree altogether with these old sayings. I
+know that when I and Mrs. Bolt was married it rained the whole time
+like cats and dogs, and we've been very happy. Very happy indeed
+we've been, taking it by and large. I don't say we haven't had our
+disagreements, but, taking it one way and another...."
+
+It began to seem to Soapy that the staffs of English country houses
+must be selected primarily for their powers of conversation. Every
+domestic with whom he had come in contact in Rudge Hall so far had
+at his disposal an apparently endless flow of lively small-talk.
+The butler, if you let him, would gossip all day about rabbits,
+and here was the chauffeur apparently settling down to dictate his
+autobiography. And every moment was precious!
+
+With a violent effort he contrived to take in a stock of breath.
+
+"I want the car, to go to Healthward Ho. I can drive it."
+
+The chauffeur's manner changed. Up till now he had been the cheery
+clubman meeting an old friend in the smoking room and drawing him aside
+for a long, intimate chat, but at this shocking suggestion he froze. He
+gazed at Soapy with horrified incredulity.
+
+"Drive the Dex-Mayo, sir?" he gasped.
+
+"Over to Healthward Ho."
+
+The crisis passed. Bolt swallowed convulsively and was himself once
+more. One must be patient, he realized, with laymen. They do not
+understand. When they come to a chauffeur and calmly propose that their
+vile hands shall touch his sacred steering-wheel they are not trying to
+be deliberately offensive. It is simply that they do not know.
+
+"I'm afraid that wouldn't quite do, sir," he said with a faint,
+reproving smile.
+
+"Do you think I can't drive?"
+
+"Not the Dex-Mayo you can't, sir." Bolt spoke a little curtly, for
+he had been much moved and was still shaken. "Mr. Carmody don't like
+nobody handling his car but me."
+
+"But I must go over to Healthward Ho. It's important. Business."
+
+The chauffeur reflected. Fundamentally he was a kindly man, who liked
+to do his Good Deed daily.
+
+"Well, sir, there's an old push-bike of mine lying in the stables. You
+could take that if you liked. It's a little rusty, not having been used
+for some time, but I dare say it would carry you as far as Healthward
+Ho."
+
+Soapy hesitated for a moment. The thought of a twenty-mile journey on
+a machine which he had always supposed to have become obsolete during
+his knickerbocker days made him quail a little. Then the thought of his
+mission lent him strength. He was a desperate man, and desperate men
+must do desperate things.
+
+"Fetch it out!" he said.
+
+Bolt fetched it out, and Soapy, looking upon it, quailed again.
+
+"Is that it?" he said dully.
+
+"That's it, sir," said the chauffeur.
+
+There was only one adjective to describe this push-bike--the adjective
+"blackguardly." It had that leering air, shared by some parrots and the
+baser variety of cat, of having seen and been jauntily familiar with
+all the sin of the world. It looked low and furtive. Its handle-bars
+curved up instead of down, it had gaps in its spokes, and its pedals
+were naked and unashamed. A sans-culotte of a bicycle. The sort of
+bicycle that snaps at strangers.
+
+"H'm!" said Soapy, ruminating.
+
+"Yes," said Soapy, still ruminating.
+
+Then he remembered again how imperative was the need of reaching
+Healthward Ho somehow.
+
+"All right," he said, with a shudder.
+
+He climbed onto the machine, and after one majestic wobble passed
+through the gates into the park, pedalling bravely. As he disappeared
+from view, there floated back to Bolt, standing outside the stable
+yard, a single, agonized "Ouch!"
+
+Chauffeurs do not laugh, but they occasionally smile. Bolt smiled. He
+had been bitten by that bicycle himself.
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+It was twenty minutes past one that butler Sturgis, dozing in his
+pantry, was jerked from slumber by the sound of the telephone bell.
+He had been hoping for an uninterrupted siesta, for he had had a
+perplexing and trying morning. First, on top of the most sensational
+night of his life, there had been all the nervous excitement of seeing
+policemen roaming about the place. Then the American gentleman, Mr.
+Molloy, had told him that Mr. Carmody wanted something to drink, and
+Mr. Carmody had denied having ordered it. Then Mr. Molloy had asked
+for a drink himself and had disappeared without waiting to get it.
+And, finally, there was the matter of the cupboard. Mr. Molloy, after
+starting to build a rabbit hutch, had apparently suspended operations
+in favour of smashing in the door of the cupboard at the foot of the
+stairs. It was all very puzzling to Sturgis, and, like most men of
+settled habit, he found the process of being puzzled upsetting.
+
+He went to the telephone, and a silver voice came to him over the wire.
+
+"Is this the Hall? I want to speak to Mr. Carroll."
+
+Sturgis recognized the voice.
+
+"Miss Wyvern?"
+
+"Yes. Is that Sturgis? I say, Sturgis, what has become of Mr. Carroll?
+I was expecting him here half an hour ago. Have you seen him about
+anywhere?"
+
+"I have not seen him since shortly after breakfast, miss. I understand
+that he went off in his little car with Miss Molloy."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, miss. Some time ago."
+
+There was silence at the other end of the wire.
+
+"With Miss Molloy?" said the silver voice flatly.
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+Silence again.
+
+"Did he say when he would be back?"
+
+"No, miss. But I understand that he was not proposing to return till
+quite late in the day."
+
+More silence.
+
+"Oh?"
+
+"Yes, miss. Any message I can give him?"
+
+"No, thank you.... No...! No, it doesn't matter."
+
+"Very good, miss."
+
+Sturgis returned to his pantry. Pat, hanging up the receiver, went out
+into her garden. Her face was set, and her lips compressed.
+
+A snail crossed her path. She did not tread on it, for she had a kind
+heart, but she gave it a look. It was a look which, had it reached
+John, at whom it was really directed, would have scorched him.
+
+She walked to the gate and stood leaning on it, staring straight before
+her.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI
+
+
+                                   I
+
+It had been the opinion of Dolly Molloy, expressed during her
+conversation with Mr. Twist, that John, on awaking from his drugged
+slumber, would find himself suffering a headache. The event proved her
+a true prophet.
+
+John, as became one who prized physical fitness, had been all his life
+a rather unusually abstemious young man. But on certain rare occasions
+dotted through the years of his sojourn at Oxford he had permitted
+himself to relax. As for instance, the night of his twenty-first
+birthday ... Boat-Race Night in his freshman year ... and, perhaps
+most notable of all, the night of the university football match in
+the season when he had first found a place in the Oxford team and
+had helped to win one of the most spectacular games ever seen at
+Twickenham. To celebrate each of these events he had lapsed from his
+normal austerity, and every time had wakened on the morrow to a world
+full of grayness and horror and sharp, shooting pains. But never had he
+experienced anything to compare with what he was feeling now.
+
+He was dimly conscious that strange things must have been happening to
+him, and that these things had ended by depositing him on a strange
+bed in a strange room, but he was at present in no condition to give
+his situation any sustained thought. He merely lay perfectly still,
+concentrating all his powers on the difficult task of keeping his head
+from splitting in half.
+
+When eventually, moving with exquisite care, he slid from the bed and
+stood up, the first thing of which he became aware was that the sun
+had sunk so considerably that it was now shining almost horizontally
+through the barred window of the room. The air, moreover, which
+accompanied its rays through the window had that cool fragrance which
+indicates the approach of evening.
+
+Poets have said some good things in their time about this particular
+hour of the day, but to John on this occasion it brought no romantic
+thoughts. He was merely bewildered. He had started out from Rudge not
+long after eleven in the morning, and here it was late afternoon.
+
+He moved to the window, feeling like Rip van Winkle. And presently the
+sweet air, playing about his aching brow, restored him so considerably
+that he was able to make deductions and arrive at the truth. The last
+thing he could recollect was the man Twist handing him a tall glass. In
+that glass, it now became evident, must have lurked the cause of all
+his troubles. With an imbecile lack of the most elementary caution,
+inexcusable in one who had been reading detective stories all his life,
+he had allowed himself to be drugged.
+
+It was a bitter thought, but he was not permitted to dwell on it for
+long. Gradually, driving everything else from his mind, there stole
+upon him the realization that unless he found something immediately
+to slake the thirst which was burning him up he would perish of
+spontaneous combustion. There was a jug on the wash stand, and,
+tottering to it, he found it mercifully full to the brim. For the next
+few moments he was occupied, to the exclusion of all other mundane
+matters, with the task of seeing how much of the contents of this jug
+he could swallow without pausing for breath.
+
+This done, he was at leisure to look about him and examine the position
+of affairs.
+
+That he was a prisoner was proved directly he tested the handle of the
+door. And, as further evidence, there were those bars on the window.
+Whatever else might be doubtful, the one thing certain was that he
+would have to remain in this room until somebody came along and let him
+out.
+
+His first reaction on making this discovery was a feeling of irritation
+at the silliness of the whole business. Where was the sense of it? Did
+this man Twist suppose that in the heart of peaceful Worcestershire he
+could immure a fellow for ever in an upper room of his house?
+
+And then his clouded intellect began to function more nimbly. Twist's
+behaviour, he saw, was not so childish as he had supposed. It had been
+imperative for him to gain time in order to get away with his loot;
+and, John realized, he had most certainly gained it. And the longer
+he remained in this room, the more complete would be the scoundrel's
+triumph.
+
+John became active. He went to the door again and examined it
+carefully. A moment's inspection showed him that nothing was to be
+hoped for from that quarter. A violent application of his shoulder did
+not make the solid oak so much as quiver.
+
+He tried the window. The bars were firm. Tugging had no effect on them.
+
+There seemed to John only one course to pursue.
+
+He shouted.
+
+It was an injudicious move. The top of his head did not actually come
+off, but it was a very near thing. By a sudden clutch at both temples
+he managed to avert disaster in the nick of time, and tottered weakly
+to the bed. There for some minutes he remained while unseen hands drove
+red-hot rivets into his skull.
+
+Presently the agony abated. He was able to rise again and make his way
+feebly to the jug, which he had now come to look on as his only friend
+in the world.
+
+He had just finished his second non-stop draught when something
+attracted his notice out of the corner of his eye, and he saw that in
+the window beside him were framed a head and shoulders.
+
+"Hoy!" observed the head in a voice like a lorry full of steel girders
+passing over cobblestones. "I've brought you a cuppertea."
+
+
+                                  II
+
+The head was red in colour and ornamented half-way down by a large and
+impressive moustache, waxed at the ends. The shoulders were broad and
+square, the eyes prawn-like. The whole apparition, in short, one could
+tell at a glance, was a sample or first instalment of the person of
+a sergeant-major. And unless he had dropped from heaven--which, from
+John's knowledge of sergeant-majors, seemed unlikely--the newcomer
+must be standing on top of a ladder.
+
+And such, indeed, was the case. Sergeant-Major Flannery, though no
+acrobat, had nobly risked life and limb by climbing to this upper
+window to see how his charge was getting on and to bring him a little
+refreshment.
+
+"Take your cuppertea, young fellow," said Mr. Flannery.
+
+The hospitality had arrived too late. In the matter of tea-drinking
+John was handicapped by the fact that he had just swallowed
+approximately a third of a jug of water. He regretted to be compelled
+to reject the contribution for lack of space. But as what he desired
+most at the moment was human society and conversation, he advanced
+eagerly to the window.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked.
+
+"Flannery's my name, young fellow."
+
+"How did I get here?"
+
+"In that room?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I put you there."
+
+"You did, did you?" said John. "Open this door at once, damn you!"
+
+The Sergeant-Major shook his head.
+
+"Language!" he said reprovingly. "Profanity won't do you no good, young
+man. Cursing and swearing won't 'elp you. You just drink your cuppertea
+and don't let's have no nonsense. If you'd made a 'abit in the past of
+drinking more tea and less of the other thing, you wouldn't be in what
+I may call your present predicament."
+
+"Will you open this door?"
+
+"No, sir. I will not open that door. There aren't going to be no doors
+opened till your conduct and behaviour has been carefully examined in
+the course of a day or so and we can be sure there'll be no verlence."
+
+"Listen," said John, curbing a desire to jab at this man through the
+bars with the teaspoon. "I don't know who you are...."
+
+"Flannery's the name, sir, as I said before. Sergeant-Major Flannery."
+
+"... but I can't believe you're in this business...."
+
+"Indeed I am, sir. I am Doctor Twist's assistant."
+
+"But this man is a criminal, you fool...."
+
+Sergeant-Major Flannery seemed pained rather than annoyed.
+
+"Come, come, sir. A little civility, if you please. This, what I may
+call contumacious attitude, isn't helping you. Surely you can see that
+for yourself? Always remember, sir, the voice with the smile wins."
+
+"This fellow Twist burgled our house last night. And all the while
+you're keeping me shut up here he's getting away."
+
+"Is that so, sir? What house would that be?"
+
+"Rudge Hall."
+
+"Never heard of it."
+
+"It's near Rudge-in-the-Vale. Twenty miles from here. Mr. Carmody's
+place."
+
+"Mr. Lester Carmody who was here taking the cure?"
+
+"Yes. I'm his nephew."
+
+"His nephew, eh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come, come!"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"It so 'appens," said Mr. Flannery, with quiet satisfaction, removing
+one hand from the window bars in order to fondle his moustache, "that
+I've seen Mr. Carmody's nephew. Tallish, thinnish, pleasant-faced young
+fellow. He was over here to visit Mr. Carmody during the latter's
+temp'ry residence. I had him pointed out to me."
+
+Painful though the process was, John felt compelled to grit his teeth.
+
+"That was Mr. Carmody's other nephew."
+
+"Other nephew, eh?"
+
+"My cousin."
+
+"Your cousin, eh?"
+
+"His name's Hugo."
+
+"Hugo, eh?"
+
+"Good God!" cried John. "Are you a parrot?"
+
+Mr. Flannery, if he had not been standing on a ladder, would no doubt
+have drawn himself up haughtily at this outburst. Being none too
+certain of his footing, he contented himself with looking offended.
+
+"No, sir," he said with a dignity which became him well, "in reply to
+your question, I am not a parrot. I am a salaried assistant at Doctor
+Twist's health-establishment, detailed to look after the patients and
+keep them away from the cigarettes and see that they do their exercises
+in a proper manner. And, as I said to the young lady, I understand
+human nature and am a match for artfulness of any description. What's
+more, it was precisely this kind of artfulness on your part that
+the young lady warned me against. 'Be careful, Sergeant-Major,' she
+said to me, clasping her 'ands in what I may call an agony of appeal,
+'that this poor, misguided young son of a what-not don't come it over
+you with his talk about being the Lost Heir of some family living in
+the near neighbourhood. Because he's sure to try it on, you can take
+it from me, Sergeant-Major,' she said. And I said to the young lady,
+'Miss,' I said, 'he won't come it over Egbert Flannery. Not him. I've
+seen too much of that sort of thing, miss,' I said. And the young lady
+said, 'Gawd's strewth, Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'I wish there was
+more men in the world like you, Sergeant-Major, because then it would
+be a dam' sight better place than it is, Sergeant-Major.'" He paused.
+Then, realizing an omission, added the words, "she said."
+
+John clutched at his throbbing head.
+
+"Young lady? What young lady?"
+
+"You know well enough what young lady, sir. The young lady what brought
+you here to leave you in our charge. That young lady."
+
+"That young lady?"
+
+"Yes, sir. The one who brought you here."
+
+"Brought me here?"
+
+"And left you in our charge."
+
+"Left me in your charge?"
+
+"Come, come, sir!" said Mr. Flannery. "Are you a parrot?"
+
+The adroit thrust made no impression on John. His mind was too busy
+to recognize it for what it was--viz., about the cleverest repartee
+ever uttered by a non-commissioned officer of His Majesty's regular
+forces. A monstrous suspicion had smitten him, with the effect almost
+of a physical blow. Suspicion? It was more than a suspicion. If it was
+at Dolly Molloy's request that he was now locked up in this infernal
+room, then, bizarre as it might seem, Dolly Molloy must in some way be
+connected with the nefarious activities of the man Twist. The links
+that connected the two might be obscure, but as to the fact there could
+be no doubt whatever.
+
+"You mean ..." he gasped.
+
+"I mean your sister, sir, who brought you over here in her car."
+
+"What! That was my car."
+
+"No, no, sir, that won't do. I saw her myself driving off in it some
+hours ago. She waved her 'and to me," said Mr. Flannery, caressing his
+moustache and allowing a note of tender sentiment to creep into his
+voice. "Yes, sir! She turned and waved her 'and."
+
+John made no reply. He was beyond speech. Trifling though it might seem
+to an insurance company in comparison with the loss of Rudge Hall's
+more valuable treasures, the theft of the two-seater smote him a blow
+from which he could not hope to rally. He loved his Widgeon Seven. He
+had nursed it, tended it, oiled it, watered it, watched over it in
+sickness and in health as if it had been a baby sister. And now it had
+gone.
+
+"Look here!" he cried feverishly. "You must let me out of here. At
+once!"
+
+"No, sir. I promised your sister...."
+
+"She isn't my sister! I haven't got a sister! Good heavens, man, can't
+you understand...."
+
+"I understand very well, sir. Artfulness! I was prepared for it."
+Sergeant-Major Flannery paused for an instant. "The young lady," he
+said dreamily, "was afraid, too, that you might try to bribe me. She
+warned me most particular."
+
+John did not speak. His Widgeon Seven! Gone!
+
+"Bribe me!" repeated Sergeant-Major Flannery, his eyes widening. It was
+evident that the mere thought of such a thing sickened this good man.
+"She said you would try to bribe me to let you go."
+
+"Well, you can make your mind easy," said John between his teeth. "I
+haven't any money."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Flannery said "Ho!" in a rather
+short manner. And silence fell again.
+
+It was broken by the Sergeant-Major, in a moralizing vein.
+
+"It's a wonder to me," he said, and there was peevishness in his
+voice, "that a young fellow with a lovely sister like what you've got
+can bring himself to lower himself to the beasts of the field, as
+the saying is. Drink in moderation is one thing. Mopping it up and
+becoming verlent and a nuisance to all is another. If you'd ever seen
+one of them lantern slides showing what alcohol does to the liver of
+the excessive drinker maybe you'd have pulled up sharp while there
+was time. And not," said the Sergeant-Major, still with that oddly
+querulous note in his voice, "have wasted all your money on what could
+only do you 'arm. If you 'adn't of give in so to your self-indulgence
+and what I may call besottedness, you would now 'ave your pocket full
+of money to spend how you fancied." He sighed. "Your cuppertea's got
+cold," he said moodily.
+
+"I don't want any tea."
+
+"Then I'll be leaving you," said Mr. Flannery. "If you require
+anything, press the bell. Nobody'll take any notice of it."
+
+He withdrew cautiously down the ladder, and, having paused at the
+bottom to shake his head reproachfully, disappeared from view.
+
+John did not miss him. His desire for company had passed. What
+he wanted now was to be alone and to think. Not that there was
+any likelihood of his thoughts being pleasant ones. The more he
+contemplated the iniquity of the Molloy family, the deeper did the iron
+enter into his soul. If ever he set eyes on Thomas G. Molloy again....
+
+He set eyes on him again, oddly enough, at this very moment. From where
+he stood, looking out through the bars of the window, there was visible
+to him a considerable section of the drive. And up the drive at this
+juncture, toiling painfully, came Mr. Molloy in person, seated on a
+bicycle.
+
+As John craned his neck and glared down with burning eyes, the rider
+dismounted, and the bicycle, which appeared to have been waiting for
+the chance, bit him neatly in the ankle with its left pedal. John was
+too far away to hear the faint cry of agony which escaped the suffering
+man, but he could see his face. It was a bright crimson face, powdered
+with dust, and its features were twisted in anguish.
+
+John went back to the jug and took another long drink. In the spectacle
+just presented to him he had found a faint, feeble glimmering of
+consolation.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII
+
+
+                                   I
+
+On leaving John, Sergeant-Major Flannery's first act was to go to
+what he was accustomed to call the orderly room and make his report.
+He reached it only a few minutes after its occupant's return to
+consciousness. Chimp Twist had opened his eyes and staggered to his
+feet at just about the moment when the Sergeant-Major was offering John
+the cup of tea.
+
+Mr. Twist's initial discovery, like John's, was that he had a headache.
+He then set himself to try to decide where he was. His mind clearing
+a little, he was enabled to gather that he was in England ... and,
+assembling the facts by degrees, in his study at Healthward Ho
+(formerly Graveney Court), Worcestershire. After that, everything came
+back to him, and he stood holding to the table with one hand and still
+grasping the lily with the other, and gave himself up to scorching
+reflections on the subject of the resourceful Mrs. Molloy.
+
+He was still busy with these when there was a forceful knock on the
+door and Sergeant-Major Flannery entered.
+
+Chimp's grip of the table tightened. He held himself together like one
+who sees a match set to a train of gunpowder and awaits the shattering
+explosion. His visitor's lips had begun to move, and Chimp could
+guess how that parade-ground voice was going to sound to a man with a
+headache like his.
+
+"H'rarp-h'm," began Mr. Flannery, clearing his throat, and Chimp with
+a sharp cry reeled to a chair and sank into it. The noise had hit him
+like a shell. He cowered where he sat, peering at the Sergeant-Major
+with haggard eyes.
+
+"Oo-er!" boomed Mr. Flannery, noting these symptoms. "You aren't
+looking up to the mark, Mr. Twist."
+
+Chimp dropped the lily, feeling the necessity of having both hands
+free. He found he experienced a little relief if he put the palms over
+his eyes and pressed hard.
+
+"I'll tell you what it is, sir," roared the sympathetic Sergeant-Major.
+"What's 'appened 'ere is that that nasty, feverish cold of yours
+has gone and struck inwards. It's left your 'ead and has penetrated
+internally to your vitals. If only you'd have took taraxacum and hops
+like I told you...."
+
+"Go away!" moaned Chimp, adding in a low voice what seemed to him a
+suitable destination.
+
+Mr. Flannery regarded him with mild reproach.
+
+"There's nothing gained, Mr. Twist, by telling me to get to 'ell out of
+here. I've merely come for the single and simple reason that I thought
+you would wish to know I've had a conversation with the verlent case
+upstairs, and the way it looks to me, sir, subject to your approval, is
+that it 'ud be best not to let him out from under lock and key for some
+time to come. True, 'e did not attempt anything in the nature of actual
+physical attack, being prevented no doubt by the fact that there was
+iron bars between him and me, but his manner throughout was peculiar,
+not to say odd, and I recommend that all communications be conducted
+till further notice through the window."
+
+"Do what you like," said Chimp faintly.
+
+"It isn't what I like, sir," bellowed Mr. Flannery virtuously. "It's
+what you like and instruct, me being in your employment and only 'ere
+to carry out your orders smartly as you give them. And there's one
+other matter, sir. As perhaps you are aware, the young lady went off in
+the little car ..."
+
+"Don't talk to me about the young lady."
+
+"I was only about to say, Mr. Twist, that you will doubtless be
+surprised to hear that for some reason or another, having started to
+go off in the little car, the young lady apparently decided on second
+thoughts to continue her journey by train. She left the little car at
+Lowick Station, with instructions that it be returned 'ere. I found
+that young Jakes, the station-master's son, outside with it a moment
+ago. Tooting the 'orn, he was, the young rascal, and saying he wanted
+half a crown. Using my own discretion, I gave him sixpence. You may
+reimburse me at your leisure and when convenient. Shall I take the
+little car and put it in the garridge, sir?"
+
+Chimp gave eager assent to this proposition, as he would have done
+to any proposition which appeared to carry with it the prospect of
+removing this man from his presence.
+
+"It's funny, the young lady leaving the little car at the station,
+sir," mused Mr. Flannery in a voice that shook the chandelier. "I
+suppose she happened to reach there at a moment when a train was
+signalled and decided that she preferred not to overtax her limited
+strength by driving to London. I fancy she must have had London as her
+objective."
+
+Chimp fancied so, too. A picture rose before his eyes of Dolly and
+Soapy revelling together in the metropolis, with the loot of Rudge Hall
+bestowed in some safe place where he would never, never be able to get
+at it. The picture was so vivid that he uttered a groan.
+
+"Where does it catch you, sir?" asked Mr. Flannery solicitously.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"The pain, sir. The agony. You appear to be suffering. If you take
+my advice, you'll get off to bed and put an 'ot-water bottle on your
+stummick. Lay it right across the abdomen, sir. It may dror the poison
+out. I had an old aunt...."
+
+"I don't want to hear about your aunt."
+
+"Very good, sir. Just as you wish."
+
+"Tell me about her some other time."
+
+"Any time that suits you, sir," said Mr. Flannery agreeably. "Well,
+I'll be off and putting the little car in the garridge."
+
+He left the room, and Chimp, withdrawing his hands from his eyes,
+gave himself up to racking thought. A man recovering from knock-out
+drops must necessarily see things in a jaundiced light, but it is
+scarcely probable that, even had he been in robust health, Mr. Twist's
+meditations would have been much pleasanter. Condensed, they resolved
+themselves, like John's, into a passionate wish that he could meet
+Soapy Molloy again, if only for a moment.
+
+And he had hardly decided that such a meeting was the only thing which
+life now had to offer, when the door opened again and the maid appeared.
+
+"Mr. Molloy to see you, sir."
+
+Chimp started from his chair.
+
+"Show him in," he said in a tense, husky voice.
+
+There was a shuffling noise without, and Soapy appeared in the doorway.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+The progress of Mr. Molloy across the threshold of Chimp Twist's study
+bore a striking resemblance to that of some spent runner breasting
+the tape at the conclusion of a more than usually gruelling Marathon
+race. His hair was disordered, his face streaked with dust and heat,
+and his legs acted so independently of his body that they gave him an
+odd appearance of moving in several directions at once. An unbiassed
+observer, seeing him, could not but have felt a pang of pity for this
+wreck of what had once, apparently, been a fine, upstanding man.
+
+Chimp was not an unbiassed observer. He did not pity his old business
+partner. Judging from a first glance, Soapy Molloy seemed to him to
+have been caught in some sort of machinery, and subsequently run over
+by several motor lorries, and Chimp was glad of it. He would have liked
+to seek out the man in charge of that machinery and the drivers of
+those lorries, and reward them handsomely.
+
+"So here you are!" he said.
+
+Mr. Molloy, navigating cautiously, backed and filled in the direction
+of the armchair. Reaching it after considerable difficulty, he
+gripped its sides and lowered himself with infinite weariness. A sharp
+exclamation escaped him as he touched the cushions. Then, sinking back,
+he closed his eyes and immediately went to sleep.
+
+Chimp gazed down at him, seething with resentment that made his head
+ache worse than ever. That Soapy should have had the cold, callous
+crust to come to Healthward Ho at all after what had happened was
+sufficiently infuriating. That, having come, he should proceed without
+a word of explanation or apology to treat the study as a bedroom was
+more than Chimp could endure. Stooping down, he gripped his old friend
+by his luxuriant hair and waggled his head smartly from side to side
+several times. The treatment proved effective. Soapy sat up.
+
+"Eh?" he said, blinking.
+
+"What do you mean, eh?"
+
+"Which...? Why...? Where am I?"
+
+"I'll tell you where you are."
+
+"Oh!" said Mr. Molloy, intelligence returning.
+
+He sank back among the cushions again. Now that the first agony of
+contact was over he was finding their softness delightful. In the
+matter of seats, a man who has ridden twenty miles on an elderly
+push-bicycle becomes an exacting critic.
+
+"Gee! I feel bad!" he murmured.
+
+It was a natural remark, perhaps, for a man in his condition to make,
+but it had the effect of adding several degrees Fahrenheit to his
+companion's already impressive warmth. For some moments Chimp Twist,
+wrestling with his emotion, could find no form of self-expression
+beyond a curious spluttering noise.
+
+"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, "I feel bad. All the way over here on
+a bicycle, Chimpie, that's where I've been. It's in the calf of the leg
+that it gets me principally. There and around the instep. And I wish I
+had a dollar for every bruise those darned pedals have made on me."
+
+"And what about me?" demanded Chimp, at last ceasing to splutter.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, wistfully, "I certainly wish someone would
+come along and offer me even as much as fifty cents for every bruise
+I've gotten from the ankles upwards. They've come out on me like a rash
+or something."
+
+"If you had my headache...."
+
+"Yes, I've a headache, too," said Mr. Molloy. "It was the hot sun
+beating down on my neck that did it. There were times when I thought
+really I'd have to pass the thing up. Say, if you knew what I feel
+like...."
+
+"And how about what I feel like?" shrilled Mr. Twist, quivering with
+self-pity. "A nice thing that was that wife of yours did to me! A fine
+trick to play on a business partner! Slipping stuff into my highball
+that laid me out cold. Is that any way to behave? Is that a system?"
+
+Mr. Molloy considered the point.
+
+"The madam is a mite impulsive," he admitted.
+
+"And leaving me laying there and putting a lily in my hand!"
+
+"That was her playfulness," explained Mr. Molloy. "Girls will have
+their bit of fun."
+
+"Fun! Say...."
+
+Mr. Molloy felt that it was time to point the moral.
+
+"It was your fault, Chimpie. You brought it on yourself by acting
+greedy and trying to get the earth. If you hadn't stood us up for that
+sixty-five--thirty-five of yours, all this would never have happened.
+Naturally no high-spirited girl like the madam wasn't going to stand
+for nothing like that. But listen while I tell you what I've come
+about. If you're willing to can all that stuff and have a fresh deal
+and a square one this time--one-third to me, one-third to you, and
+one-third to the madam--I'll put you hep to something that'll make you
+feel good. Yes, sir, you'll go singing about the house."
+
+"The only thing you could tell me that would make me feel good,"
+replied Chimp, churlishly, "would be that you'd tumbled off of that
+bicycle of yours and broken your damned neck."
+
+Mr. Molloy was pained.
+
+"Is that nice, Chimpie?"
+
+Mr. Twist wished to know if, in the circumstances and after what had
+occurred, Mr. Molloy expected him to kiss him. Mr. Molloy said No, but
+where was the sense of harsh words? Where did harsh words get anybody?
+When had harsh words ever paid any dividend?
+
+"If you had a headache like mine, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy,
+reproachfully, "you'd know how it felt to sit and listen to an old
+friend giving you the razz."
+
+Chimp was obliged to struggle for a while with a sudden return of his
+spluttering.
+
+"A headache like yours? Where do you get that stuff? My headache's a
+darned sight worse than your headache."
+
+"It couldn't be, Chimpie."
+
+"If you want to know what a headache really is, you take some of those
+kayo drops you're so fond of."
+
+"Well, putting that on one side," said Mr. Molloy, wisely forbearing to
+argue, "let me tell you what I've come here about. Chimpie, that guy
+Carmody has double-crossed us. He was on to us from the start."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, sir. I had it from his own lips in person. And do you know what
+he done? He took that stuff out of the closet and sent his chauffeur
+over to Worcester to put it in the Left Luggage place at the depôt
+there."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Gee!" said Mr. Twist, impressed. "That was smooth. Then you haven't
+got it, do you mean?"
+
+"No. I haven't got it."
+
+Mr. Twist had never expected to feel anything in the nature of elation
+that day or for many days to come, but at these words something like
+ecstasy came upon him. He uttered a delighted laugh, which, owing to
+sudden agony in the head, changed to a muffled howl.
+
+"So, after all your smartness," he said, removing his hands from his
+temples as the spasm passed, "you're no better off than what I am?"
+
+"We're both sitting pretty, Chimpie, if we get together and act quick."
+
+"How's that? Act how?"
+
+"I'll tell you. This chauffeur guy left the stuff and brought home the
+ticket...."
+
+"... and gave it to old man Carmody, I suppose? Well, where does that
+get us?"
+
+"No, sir! He didn't give it to old man Carmody. He gave it to that
+young Carroll fellow!" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+The significance of the information was not lost upon Chimp. He stared
+at Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Carroll?" he said. "You mean the bird upstairs?"
+
+"Is he upstairs?"
+
+"Sure he's upstairs. Locked in a room with bars on the window. You're
+certain he has the ticket?"
+
+"I know he has. So all we've got to do now is get it off him."
+
+"That's all?"
+
+"That's all."
+
+"And how," inquired Chimp, "do you propose to do it?"
+
+Mr. Molloy made no immediate reply. The question was one which, in the
+intervals of dodging the pedals of his bicycle, he had been asking
+himself ever since he had left Rudge Hall. He had hoped that in the
+enthusiasm of the moment some spontaneous solution would leap from his
+old friend's lips, but it was plain that this was not to be.
+
+"I thought maybe you would think of a way, Chimpie," he was compelled
+to confess.
+
+"Oh? Me, eh?"
+
+"You're smart," said Mr. Molloy, deferentially. "You've got a head.
+Whatever anyone's said about you, no one's ever denied that. You'll
+think of a way."
+
+"I will, will I? And while I'm doing it, you'll just sit back, I
+suppose, and have a nice rest? And all you're suggesting that I'm to
+get out of it...."
+
+"Now, Chimpie!" quavered Mr. Molloy. He had feared this development.
+
+"... is a measly one-third. Say, let me tell you...."
+
+"Now, Chimpie," urged Mr. Molloy, with unshed tears in his voice,
+"let's not start all that over again. We settled the terms. Gentlemen's
+agreement. It's all fixed."
+
+"Is it? Come down out of the clouds, you're scaring the birds. What I
+want now, if I'm going to do all the work and help you out of a tough
+spot, is seventy-thirty."
+
+"Seventy-thirty!' echoed Mr. Molloy, appalled.
+
+"And if you don't like it let's hear you suggest a way of getting that
+ticket off of that guy upstairs. Maybe you'd like to go up and have
+a talk with him? If he's feeling anything like the way I felt when I
+came to after those kayo drops of yours, he'll be glad to see you. What
+does it matter to you if he pulls your head off and drops it out of the
+window? You can only live once, so what the hell!"
+
+Mr. Molloy gazed dismally before him. Never a very inventive man,
+his bicycle ride had left him even less capable of inspiration than
+usual. He had to admit himself totally lacking in anything resembling
+a constructive plan of campaign. He yearned for his dear wife's gentle
+presence. Dolly was the bright one of the family. In a crisis like this
+she would have been full of ideas, each one a crackerjack.
+
+"We can't keep him locked up in that room for ever," he said unhappily.
+
+"We don't have to--not if you agree to my seventy-thirty."
+
+"Have you thought of a way, then?"
+
+"Sure I've thought of a way."
+
+Mr. Molloy's depression became more marked than ever. He knew what this
+meant. The moment he gave up the riddle that miserable little Chimp
+would come out with some scheme which had been staring him in the face
+all along, if only he had had the intelligence to see it.
+
+"Well?" said Chimp. "Think quick. And remember, thirty's better than
+nothing. And don't say, when I've told you, that it's just the idea
+you've had yourself from the start."
+
+Mr. Molloy urged his weary brain to one last spurt of activity, but
+without result. He was a specialist. He could sell shares in phantom
+oil wells better than anybody on either side of the Atlantic, but there
+he stopped. Outside his specialty he was almost a total loss.
+
+"All right, Chimpie," he sighed, facing the inevitable.
+
+"Seventy-thirty?"
+
+"Seventy-thirty. Though how I'm to break it to the madam, I don't know.
+She won't like it, Chimpie. It'll be a nasty blow for the madam."
+
+"I hope it chokes her," said Chimp, unchivalrously. "Her and her
+lilies! Well, then. Here's what we do. When Flannery takes the guy his
+coffee and eggs to-morrow, there'll be something in the pot besides
+coffee. There'll be some of those kayo drops of yours. And then all we
+have to do is just simply walk upstairs and dig the ticket out of his
+clothes and there we are."
+
+Mr. Molloy uttered an agonized cry. His presentiment had been correct.
+
+"I'd have thought of that myself ..." he wailed.
+
+"Sure you would," replied Chimp, comfortably, "if you'd of had
+something that wasn't a hubbard squash or something where your head
+ought to be. Those just-as-good imitation heads never pay in the long
+run. What you ought to do is sell yours for what it'll fetch and get a
+new one. And next time," said Chimp, "make it a prettier one."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+                                   I
+
+The dawn of what promised to be an eventful day broke grayly over
+Healthward Ho. By seven o'clock, however, the sun had forced its way
+through the mists and at eight precisely one of its rays, stealing
+in at an upper window, fell upon Sergeant-Major Flannery, lovely in
+sleep. He grunted, opened his eyes, and, realizing that another morning
+had arrived with all its manifold tasks and responsibilities, heaved
+himself out of bed and after a few soldierly setting-up exercises began
+his simple toilet. This completed, he made his way to the kitchen,
+where a fragrant smell of bacon and coffee announced that breakfast
+awaited him.
+
+His companions in the feast, Rosa, the maid, and Mrs. Evans, the cook,
+greeted him with the respectful warmth due to a man of his position
+and gifts. However unpopular Mr. Flannery might be with the resident
+patients of Healthward Ho--and Admiral Sir James Rigby-Rudd, for one,
+had on several occasions expressed a wistful desire to skin him--he
+was always sure of a hearty welcome below stairs. Rosa worshipped his
+moustache, and Mrs. Evans found his conversation entertaining.
+
+To-day, however, though the moustache was present in all its pristine
+glory, the conversation was lacking. Usually it was his custom,
+before so much as spearing an egg, to set things going brightly with
+some entertaining remark on the state of the weather or possibly the
+absorbing description of a dream which he had had in the night, but
+this morning he sat silent--or as nearly silent as he could ever be
+when eating.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Flannery," said Mrs. Evans, piqued. The
+Sergeant-Major started. It came to him that he had been remiss.
+
+"I was thinking, ma'am," he said, poising a forkful of bacon, "of what
+I may call the sadness of life."
+
+"Life is sad," agreed Mrs. Evans.
+
+"Ah!" said Rosa, the maid, who, being a mere slip of a girl and only
+permitted to join in these symposia as a favour, should not have spoken
+at all.
+
+"That verlent case upstairs," proceeded Mr. Flannery, swallowing the
+bacon and forking up another load. "Now, there's something that makes
+your heart bleed, if I may use the expression at the breakfast table.
+That young fellow, no doubt, started out in life with everything
+pointing to a happy and prosperous career.
+
+"Good home, good education, everything. And just because he's allowed
+himself to fall into bad 'abits, there he is under lock and key, so to
+speak."
+
+"Can he get out?" asked Rosa. It was a subject which she and the cook
+discussed in alarmed whispers far into the night.
+
+Mr. Flannery raised his eyebrows.
+
+"No, he cannot get out. And, if he did, you wouldn't have nothing to
+fear, not with me around."
+
+"I'm sure it's a comfort feeling that you are around, Mr. Flannery,"
+said Mrs. Evans.
+
+"Almost the very words the young fellow's sister said to me when she
+left him here," rumbled Mr. Flannery complacently. "She said to me,
+'Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'it's such a relief to feel that there's
+someone like you 'ere, Sergeant-Major,' she said. 'I'm sure you're
+wonderful in any kind of an emergency, Sergeant-Major,' she said." He
+sighed. "It's thinking of 'er that brings home the sadness of it all to
+a man, if you understand me. What I mean, here's that beautiful young
+creature racked with anxiety, as the saying is, on account of this
+worthless brother of hers...."
+
+"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa.
+
+An awful silence followed these words, the sort of silence that would
+fall upon a housekeeper's room if, supposing such a thing possible,
+some young under-footman were to contradict the butler. Sergeant-Major
+Flannery's eyes bulged, and he drank coffee in a marked manner.
+
+"Don't you talk nonsense, my girl," he said shortly.
+
+"A girl can speak, can't she? A girl can make a remark, can't she?"
+
+"Certainly she can speak," replied Mr. Flannery. "Undoubtedly she can
+make a remark. But," he added with quiet severity, "let it be sense.
+That young lady was the most beautiful young lady I've ever seen. She
+had eyes"--he paused for a telling simile--"eyes," he resumed devoutly,
+"like twin stars." He turned to Mrs. Evans, "When you've got that
+case's breakfast ready, ma'am, perhaps you would instruct someone to
+bring it out to me in the garden and I'll take it up to him. I shall be
+smoking my pipe in the shrubbery."
+
+"You're not going already, Mr. Flannery?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"But you haven't finished your breakfast."
+
+"I have quite finished my breakfast, ma'am," said Sergeant-Major
+Flannery. "I would not wish to eat any more."
+
+He withdrew. To the pleading in the eyes of Rosa he pointedly paid
+no attention. He was not aware of the destructive effect which the
+moustache nestling between his thumb and forefinger had wrought on the
+girl's heart, but he considered rightly that if you didn't keep women
+in their place occasionally, where were you? Rosa was a nice little
+thing, but nice little things must not be allowed to speak lightly of
+goddesses.
+
+In the kitchen which he had left conversation had now resolved itself
+into a monologue by Mrs. Evans, on the Modern Girl. It need not be
+reported in detail, for Mrs. Evans on the Modern Girl was very like all
+the other members of the older generation who from time to time have
+given their views on the subject in the pulpit and the press. Briefly,
+Mrs. Evans did not know what girls were coming to nowadays. They spoke
+irreverently in the presence of their elders. They lacked respect. They
+thrust themselves forward. They annoyed good men to the extent of only
+half finishing their breakfasts. What Mrs. Evans's mother would have
+said if Mrs. Evans in her girlhood had behaved as Rosa had just behaved
+was a problem which Mrs. Evans frankly admitted herself unable to solve.
+
+And at the end of it all the only remark which Rosa vouchsafed was a
+repetition of the one which had caused Sergeant-Major Flannery to leave
+the table short one egg and a slice of bacon of his normal allowance.
+
+"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa, tossing a bobbed
+auburn head.
+
+Whether this deplorable attitude would have reduced Mrs. Evans to
+a despairing silence or caused her to repeat her observations with
+renewed energy will never be known, for at this moment one of the bells
+above the dresser jangled noisily.
+
+"That's Him," said Mrs. Evans. "Go and see what He wants." She usually
+referred to the proprietor of Healthward Ho by means of a pronoun with
+a capital letter, disapproving, though she recognized its aptness, of
+her assistant's preference for the soubriquet of Old Monkey Brand. "If
+it's His breakfast, tell Him it'll be ready in a minute."
+
+Rosa departed.
+
+"It's not His breakfast," she announced, returning. "It's the Case
+Upstairs's breakfast. Old Monkey Brand wants to have a look at it
+before it's took him."
+
+"Don't call Him Old Monkey Brand."
+
+"Well, it's what he looks like, isn't it?"
+
+"Never mind," replied Mrs. Evans, and resumed her speculations as to
+what her mother would have said.
+
+"He's to have some bacon and eggs and toast and a potter coffee," said
+Rosa, showing rather a lack of interest in Mrs. Evans's mother. "And
+old Lord Twist wants to have a look at it before it's took him. It all
+depends what you call beautiful," said Rosa. "If you're going to call
+anyone beautiful that's got touched-up hair and eyes like one of those
+vamps in the pictures, well, all I can say is..."
+
+"That's enough," said Mrs. Evans.
+
+Silence reigned in the kitchen, broken only by the sizzling of bacon
+and the sniffs of a modern girl who did not see eye to eye with her
+elders on the subject of feminine beauty.
+
+"Here you are," said Mrs. Evans at length. "Get me one of them trays
+and the pepper and salt and mustard and be careful you don't drop it."
+
+"Drop it? Why should I drop it?"
+
+"Well, don't."
+
+"There was a woman in _Hearts and Satins_ that had eyes just like
+hers," said Rosa, balancing the tray and speaking with the cold scorn
+which good women feel for their erring sisters. "And what she didn't
+do! Apart from stealing all them important papers relating to the
+invention...."
+
+"You're spilling that coffee."
+
+"No, I'm not."
+
+"Well, don't," said Mrs. Evans.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Out in the garden, hidden from the gaze of any who might espy him and
+set him to work, Sergeant-Major Flannery lolled in the shrubbery,
+savouring that best smoke of the day, the after-breakfast pipe. He was
+still ruffled, for Dolly had made a deep impression on him and any
+statement to the effect that she was not a thing of loveliness ranked
+to his thinking under the head of blasphemy.
+
+Of course, he mused, there was this to be said for the girl Rosa,
+this rather important point to be put forward in extenuation of her
+loose speech--she worshipped the ground he walked on and had obviously
+spoken as she did under the sudden smart of an uncontrollable
+jealousy. Contemplated in this light her remarks became almost
+excusable, and, growing benevolent under the influence of tobacco, Mr.
+Flannery began to feel his resentment changing gradually into something
+approaching tenderness.
+
+Rosa, when you came to look at it squarely, was, he reflected, rather
+to be pitied than censured. Young girls, of course, needed suppressing
+at times, and had to be ticked off for their own good when they got
+above themselves, but there was no doubt that the situation must have
+been trying to one in her frame of mind. To hear the man she worshipped
+speaking with unrestrained praise of the looks of another of her sex
+was enough to upset any girl. Properly looked at, in short, Rosa's
+outburst had been a compliment, and Sergeant-Major Flannery, now
+definitely mollified, decided to forgive her.
+
+At this moment he heard footsteps on the gravel path that skirted the
+shrubbery, and became alert and vigilant. He was not supposed to smoke
+in the grounds at Healthward Ho because of the maddening effect the
+spectacle could not fail to have upon the patients if they saw him. He
+knocked out his pipe and peered cautiously through the branches. Then
+he perceived that he need have had no alarm. It was only Rosa. She
+was standing with her back to him holding a laden tray. He remembered
+now that he had left instructions that the Case's breakfast should be
+brought out to him, preliminary to being carried up the ladder.
+
+"Mr. Flanner-ee!" called Rosa, and scanned the horizon.
+
+It was not often that Sergeant-Major Flannery permitted himself any
+action that might be called arch or roguish, but his meditations in the
+shrubbery, added to the mellowing influence of tobacco, had left him in
+an unusually light-hearted mood. The sun was shining, the little birds
+were singing, and Mr. Flannery felt young and gay. Putting his pipe in
+his pocket, accordingly, he crept through the shrubbery until he was
+immediately behind the girl and then in a tender whisper uttered the
+single word:
+
+"Boo!"
+
+All great men have their limitations. We recognize the inevitability of
+this and do not hold it against them. One states, therefore, not in any
+spirit of reproach but simply as a fact of historical interest, that
+tender whispering was one of the things that Sergeant-Major Flannery
+did not do well. Between intention and performance there was, when Mr.
+Flannery set out to whisper tenderly, a great gulf fixed. The actual
+sound he now uttered was not unlike that which might proceed from the
+fog horn of an Atlantic liner or a toastmaster having a fit in a
+boiler shop, and, bursting forth as it did within a few inches of her
+ear without any warning whatsoever, it had on Rosa an effect identical
+with that produced on Colonel Wyvern at an earlier point in this
+chronicle by John Carroll's sudden bellow outside the shop of Chas.
+Bywater, Chemist. From trivial causes great events may spring. Rosa
+sprang about three feet. A sharp squeal escaped her and she dropped the
+tray. After which, she stood with a hand on her heart, panting.
+
+Sergeant-Major Flannery recognized at once that he had done the wrong
+thing. His generous spirit had led him astray. If he had wished to
+inform Rosa that all was forgotten and forgiven he should have stepped
+out of the shrubbery and said so in a few simple words, face to face.
+By acting, as it were, obliquely and allowing himself to be for the
+moment a disembodied voice, he had made a mess of things. Among the
+things he had made a mess of were a pot of coffee, a pitcher of milk,
+a bowl of sugar, a dish of butter, vessels containing salt, mustard,
+and pepper, a rack of toast, and a plateful of eggs and bacon. All
+these objects now littered the turf before him; and, emerging from the
+shrubbery, he surveyed them ruefully.
+
+"Oo-er!" he said.
+
+Oddly enough, relief rather than annoyance seemed to be the emotion
+dominating his companion. If ever there was an occasion when a girl
+might excusably have said some of the things girls are so good at
+saying nowadays, this was surely it. But Rosa merely panted at the
+Sergeant-Major thankfully.
+
+"I thought you was the Case Upstairs!" she gasped. "When I heard that
+ghastly sound right in my ear I thought it was him got out."
+
+"You're all right, my girl," said Mr. Flannery. "I'm 'ere."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Flannery!"
+
+"There, there!" said the Sergeant-Major.
+
+In spite of the feeling that he was behaving a little prematurely, he
+slipped a massive arm around the girl's waist. He also kissed her. He
+had not intended to commit himself quite so definitely as this, but it
+seemed now the only thing to do.
+
+Rosa became calmer.
+
+"I dropped the tray," she said.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Flannery, who was quick at noticing things.
+
+"I'd better go and tell him."
+
+"Tell Mr. Twist?"
+
+"Well, I'd better, hadn't I?"
+
+Mr. Flannery demurred. To tell Mr. Twist involved explanations, and
+explanations, if they were to be convincing, must necessarily reveal
+him, Mr. Flannery, in a light none too dignified. It might be that,
+having learned the facts, Mr. Twist would decide to dispense with
+the services of an assistant who, even from the best motives, hid in
+shrubberies and said "Boo!" to maidservants.
+
+"You listen to me, my girl," he advised. "Mr. Twist is a busy gentleman
+that has many responsibilities and much to occupy him. He don't want
+to be bothered with no stories of dropped trays. All you just do is
+run back to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Evans to cook the Case some more
+breakfast. The coffee pot's broke, but the cup ain't broke and the
+plate ain't broke and the mustardan-pepperan-salt thing ain't broke.
+I'll pick 'em up and you take 'em back on the tray and don't say
+nothing to nobody. While you're gone I'll be burying what's left of
+them eggs."
+
+"But Mr. Twist put something special in the coffee."
+
+"Eh? How do you mean?"
+
+"When I took him in the tray just now, he said, 'Is that the Case
+Upstairs' breakfast?' and I said Yes, it was, and Old Monkey Brand put
+something that looked like a aspirin tablet or something in the coffee
+pot. I thought it might be some medicine he had to have to make him
+quiet and keep him from breaking out and murdering all of us."
+
+Mr. Flannery smiled indulgently.
+
+"That Case Upstairs don't need nothing of that sort, not when I'm
+around," he said. "Doctor Twist's like all these civilians. He gets
+unduly nervous. He don't understand that there's no need or necessity
+or occasion whatsoever for these what I may call sedatives when I'm on
+the premises to lend a 'and in case of any verlence. Besides, it don't
+do anybody no good always to be taking these drugs and what not. The
+Case 'ad 'is sleeping draught yesterday, and you never know it might
+not undermine his 'ealth to go taking another this morning. So if Mr.
+Twist asks you has the Case had his coffee, you just say 'Yes, sir,' in
+a smart and respectful manner, and I'll do the same. And then nobody
+needn't be any the wiser."
+
+Mr. Flannery's opportunity of doing the same occurred not more than
+a quarter of an hour later. Returning from the task of climbing the
+ladder and handing in the revised breakfast at John's window, he
+encountered his employer in the hall.
+
+"Oh, Flannery," said Mr. Twist.
+
+"Sir?"
+
+"The--er--the violent case. Has he had breakfast?"
+
+"He was eatin' it quite 'earty when I left him not five minutes ago,
+sir."
+
+Chimp paused.
+
+"Did he drink his coffee?" he asked carelessly.
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Sergeant-Major Flannery in a smart and respectful
+manner.
+
+"Oh! I see. Thank you."
+
+"Thank _you_, sir," said Sergeant-Major Flannery.
+
+
+                                  III
+
+In describing John as eating his breakfast quite 'earty, Sergeant-Major
+Flannery, though not as a rule an artist in words, had for once
+undoubtedly achieved the _mot juste_. Hearty was the exact adjective to
+describe that ill-used young man's methods of approach to the eggs and
+bacon and coffee which his gaoler had handed in between the bars of the
+window. Neither his now rooted dislike of Mr. Flannery nor any sense of
+the indignity of accepting food like some rare specimen in a zoo could
+compete in John with an appetite which had been growing silently within
+him through the night watches. His headache had gone, leaving in its
+place a hunger which wolves might have envied. Placing himself outside
+an egg almost before the Sergeant-Major had time to say "Oo-er!" he
+finished the other egg, the bacon, the toast, the butter, the milk, and
+the coffee, and, having lifted the plate to see if any crumbs had got
+concealed beneath it and finding none, was compelled reluctantly to
+regard the meal as concluded.
+
+He now felt considerably better. Food and drink had stayed in him that
+animal ravenousness which makes food and drink the only possible object
+of a man's thoughts; and he was able to turn his mind to other matters.
+Having found and swallowed a lump of sugar which had got itself
+overlooked under a fold of the napkin, he returned to the bed and
+lay down. A man who wishes to think can generally do so better in a
+horizontal position. So John lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling,
+pondering.
+
+He certainly had sufficient material for thought to keep him occupied
+almost indefinitely. The more he meditated upon his present situation
+the less was he able to understand it. That the villain Twist, wishing
+to get away with the spoils of Rudge Hall, should have imprisoned
+him in this room in order to gain time for flight would have been
+intelligible. John would never have been able to bring himself to
+approve of such an action, but he had to admit its merits as a piece of
+strategy.
+
+But Twist had not flown. According to Sergeant-Major Flannery, he was
+still on the premises, and so, apparently, was his accomplice, the
+black-hearted Molloy. But why? What did they think they were doing? How
+long did they suppose they would be able to keep a respectable citizen
+cooped up like this, even though his only medium of communication with
+the outer world were a more than usually fat-headed sergeant-major? The
+thing baffled John completely.
+
+He next turned his mind to thoughts of Pat, and experienced a feverish
+concern. Here was something to get worried about. What, he asked
+himself, must Pat be thinking? He had promised to call for her in the
+Widgeon Seven at one o'clock yesterday. She would assume that he had
+forgotten. She would suppose....
+
+He would have gone on torturing himself with these reflections for
+a considerable time, but at this moment he suddenly heard a sharp,
+clicking sound. It resembled the noise a key makes when turning in
+a lock, and was probably the only sound on earth which at that
+particular point in his meditations would have had the power to arrest
+his attention.
+
+He lifted his head and looked around. Yes, the door was opening. And it
+was opening, what was more, in just the nasty, slow, furtive, sneaking
+way in which a door would open if somebody like the leper Twist had
+got hold of the handle.
+
+In this matter of the hell-hound Twist's mental processes John was
+now thoroughly fogged. The man appeared to be something very closely
+resembling an imbecile. When flight was the one thing that could do
+him a bit of good, he did not fly, and now, having with drugs and
+imprisonment and the small talk of sergeant-majors reduced a muscular
+young man to a condition of homicidal enthusiasm, he was apparently
+paying that young man a social call.
+
+However, the mental condition of this monkey-faced, waxed-moustached
+bounder and criminal was beside the point. What was important was to
+turn his weak-mindedness to profit. The moment was obviously one for
+cunning and craftiness, and John accordingly dropped his head on the
+pillow, cunningly closed his eyes, and craftily began to breathe like
+one deep in sleep.
+
+The ruse proved effective. After a moment of complete silence, a board
+creaked. Then another board creaked. And then he heard the door close
+gently. Finally, from the neighbourhood of the door, there came to him
+a sound of whispering. And across the years there floated into John's
+mind a dim memory. This whispering ... it reminded him of something.
+
+Then he got it. Ages ago ... when he was a child ... Christmas
+Eve ... His father and mother lurking in the doorway to make sure that
+he was asleep before creeping to the bed and putting the presents in
+his stocking.
+
+The recollection encouraged John. There is nothing like having done a
+thing before and knowing the technique. He never had been asleep on
+those bygone Christmas Eves, but the gift-bearers had never suspected
+it, and he resolved that, if any of the old skill and artistry still
+lingered with him, the Messrs. Twist and Molloy should not suspect it
+now. He deepened the note of his breathing, introducing into it a motif
+almost asthmatic.
+
+"It's all right," said the voice of Mr. Twist.
+
+"Okay?" said the voice of Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Okay," said the voice of Mr. Twist.
+
+Whereupon, walking confidently and without any further effort at
+stealth, the two approached the bed.
+
+"I guess he drank the whole potful," said Mr. Twist.
+
+Once more John found himself puzzling over the way this man's mind
+worked. By pot he presumably meant the coffee pot standing on the tray
+and why the contents of this should appear to him in the light of a
+soporific was more than John could understand.
+
+"Say, listen," said Mr. Twist. "You go and hang around outside the
+door, Soapy."
+
+"Why?" inquired Mr. Molloy, and it seemed to John that he spoke coldly.
+
+"So's to see nobody comes along, of course."
+
+"Yeah?" said Mr. Molloy, and his voice was now unmistakably dry. "And
+you'll come out in a minute and tell me you're all broke up about it
+but he hadn't got the ticket on him after all."
+
+"You don't think...?"
+
+"Yes, I do think."
+
+"If you can't trust me that far...."
+
+"Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, "I wouldn't trust you as far as a snail
+could make in three jumps. I wouldn't believe you not even if I knew
+you were speaking the truth."
+
+"Oh, well if that's how you feel..." said Mr. Twist, injured. Mr.
+Molloy, still speaking in that unfriendly voice, replied that that was
+precisely how he did feel. And there was silence for a space.
+
+"Oh, very well," said Mr. Twist at length.
+
+John's perplexity increased. He could make nothing of that "ticket."
+The only ticket he had in his possession was the one Bolt, the
+chauffeur, had given him to give to his uncle for some bag or other
+which he had left in the cloak room at Shrub Hill Station. Why should
+these men...!
+
+He became aware of fingers groping toward the inner pocket of his coat.
+And as they touched him he decided that the moment had come to act.
+Bracing the muscles of his back he sprang from the bed, and with an
+acrobatic leap hurled himself toward the door and stood leaning against
+it.
+
+
+                                  IV
+
+In the pause which followed this brisk move it soon became evident to
+John, rubbing his shoulders against the oak panels and glowering upon
+the two treasure seekers, that if the scene was to be brightened by
+anything in the nature of a dialogue the ball of conversation would
+have to be set rolling by himself. Not for some little time, it was
+clear, would his companions be in a condition for speech. Chimp Twist
+was looking like a monkey that has bitten into a bad nut, and Soapy
+Molloy, like an American Senator who has received an anonymous telegram
+saying "All is discovered. Fly at once." This sudden activity on the
+part of one whom they had regarded as under the influence of some of
+the best knock-out drops that ever came out of Chicago had had upon
+them an effect similar to that which would be experienced by a group of
+surgeons in an operating theatre if the gentleman on the slab were to
+rise abruptly and begin to dance the Charleston.
+
+So it was John who was the first to speak.
+
+"Now, then!" said John. "How about it?"
+
+The question was a purely rhetorical one, and received no reply. Mr.
+Molloy uttered an odd, strangled sound like a far-away cat with a
+fishbone in its throat, and Chimp's waxed moustache seemed to droop
+at the ends. It occurred to both of them that they had never realized
+before what a remarkably muscular, well-developed young man John was.
+It was also borne in upon them that there are exceptions to the rule
+which states that big men are always good-humoured. John, they could
+not help noticing, looked like a murderer who had been doing physical
+jerks for years.
+
+"I've a good mind to break both your necks," said John.
+
+At these unpleasant words, Mr. Molloy came to life sufficiently to be
+able to draw back a step, thus leaving his partner nearer than himself
+to the danger zone. It was a move strictly in accordance with business
+ethics. For if, Mr. Molloy was arguing, Chimp claimed seventy per cent.
+of the profits of their little venture, it was only fair that he should
+assume an equivalent proportion of its liabilities. At the moment, the
+thing looked like turning out all liabilities, and these Mr. Molloy was
+only too glad to split on a seventy-thirty basis. So he moved behind
+Chimp, and round the bulwark of his body, which he could have wished
+had been more substantial, peered anxiously at John.
+
+John, having sketched out his ideal policy, was now forced to descend
+to the practical. Agreeable as it would have been to take these two men
+and bump their heads together, he realized that such a course would be
+a deviation from the main issue. The important thing was to ascertain
+what they had done with the loot, and to this inquiry he now directed
+his remarks.
+
+"Where's that stuff?" he asked.
+
+"Stuff?" said Chimp.
+
+"You know what I mean. Those things you stole from the Hall."
+
+Chimp, who had just discovered that he was standing between Mr. Molloy
+and John, swiftly skipped back a pace. This caused Mr. Molloy to skip
+back, too. John regarded this liveliness with a smouldering disfavour.
+
+"Stand still!" he said.
+
+Chimp stood still. Mr. Molloy, who had succeeded in getting behind him
+again, stood stiller.
+
+"Well?" said John. "Where are the things?"
+
+Even after the most complete rout on a stricken battle field a beaten
+general probably hesitates for an instant before surrendering his
+sword. And so now, obvious though it was that there was no other course
+before them but confession, Chimp and Soapy remained silent for a
+space. Then Chimp, who was the first to catch John's eye, spoke hastily.
+
+"They're in Worcester."
+
+"Whereabouts in Worcester?"
+
+"At the depôt."
+
+"What depôt?"
+
+"There's only one, isn't there?"
+
+"Do you mean the station?"
+
+"Sure. The station."
+
+"They're in the Left Luggage place at the station in Worcester," said
+Mr. Molloy. He spoke almost cheerfully, for it had suddenly come to
+him that matters were not so bad as he had supposed them to be, and
+that there was still an avenue unclosed which might lead to a peaceful
+settlement. "And you've got the ticket in your pocket."
+
+John stared.
+
+"That ticket is for a bag my uncle sent the chauffeur to leave at Shrub
+Hill."
+
+"Sure. And the stuff's inside it."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I'll tell you what I mean," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Atta-boy!" said Chimp faintly. He, too, had now become aware of the
+silver lining. He sank upon the bed, and so profound was his relief
+that the ends of his moustache seemed to spring to life again and cease
+their drooping.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "I'll tell you what I mean. It's about
+time you got hep to the fact that that old uncle of yours is one of
+the smoothest birds this side of God's surging Atlantic Ocean. He
+was sitting in with us all along, that's what he was doing. He said
+those heirlooms had never done him any good and it was about time they
+brought him some money. It was all fixed that Chimpie here should swipe
+them and then I was to give the old man a cheque and he was to clean up
+on the insurance, besides. That was when he thought I was a millionaire
+that ran a museum over in America and was in the market for antiques.
+But he got on to me, and then he started in to double-cross us. He took
+the stuff out of where we'd put it and slipped it over to the depôt at
+Worcester, meaning to collect it when he got good and ready. But the
+chauffeur gave the ticket to you, and you came over here, and Chimpie
+doped you and locked you up."
+
+"And you can't do a thing," said Chimp.
+
+"No, sir," agreed Mr. Molloy, "not a thing, not unless you want to
+bring that uncle of yours into it and have him cracking rocks in the
+same prison where they put us."
+
+"I'd like to see that old bird cracking rocks, at that," said Chimp
+pensively.
+
+"So would I like to see him cracking rocks," assented Mr. Molloy
+cordially. "I can't think of anything I'd like better than to see him
+cracking rocks. But not at the expense of me cracking rocks, too."
+
+"Or me," said Chimp.
+
+"Or you," said Mr. Molloy, after a slight pause. "So there's the
+position, Mr. Carroll. You can go ahead and have us pinched, if you
+like, but just bear in mind that if you do there's going to be one of
+those scandals in high life you read about. Yes, sir, real front-page
+stuff."
+
+"You bet there is," said Chimp.
+
+"Yes, sir, you bet there is," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"You're dern tooting there is," said Chimp.
+
+"Yes, sir, you're dern tooting there is," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+And on this note of perfect harmony the partners rested their case and
+paused, looking at John expectantly.
+
+John's reaction to the disclosure was not agreeable. It is never
+pleasant for a spirited young man to find himself baffled, nor is it
+cheering for a member of an ancient family to discover that the head of
+that family has been working in association with criminals and behaving
+in a manner calculated to lead to rock-cracking.
+
+Not for an instant did it occur to him to doubt the story. Although the
+Messrs. Twist and Molloy were men whose statements the prudent would
+be inclined to accept as a rule with reserve, on this occasion it was
+evident that they were speaking nothing but the truth.
+
+"Say, listen," cried Chimp, alarmed. He had been watching John's face
+and did not like the look of it. "No rough stuff!"
+
+John had been contemplating none. Chimp and his companion had ceased
+to matter, and the fury which was making his face rather an unpleasant
+spectacle for two peace-loving men shut up in a small room with him
+was directed exclusively against his uncle Lester. Rudge Hall and its
+treasures were sacred to John; and the thought that Mr. Carmody, whose
+trust they were, had framed this scheme for the house's despoilment was
+almost more than he could bear.
+
+"It isn't us you ought to be sore at," urged Mr. Molloy. "It's that old
+uncle of yours."
+
+"Sure it is," said Chimp.
+
+"Sure it is," echoed Mr. Molloy. Not for a long time had he and his old
+friend found themselves so completely in agreement. "He's the guy you
+want to soak it to."
+
+"I'll say he is," said Chimp.
+
+"I'll say he is," said Mr. Molloy. "Say listen, let me tell you
+something. Something that'll make you feel good. I happen to know that
+old man Carmody is throwing the wool over those insurance people's eyes
+by offering a reward for the recovery of that stuff. A thousand pounds.
+He told me so himself. If you want to get him good and sore, all you've
+got to do is claim it. He won't dare hold out on you."
+
+"Certainly he won't," said Chimp.
+
+"Certainly he won't," said Mr. Molloy. "And will that make him good and
+sore!"
+
+"Will it!" said Chimp.
+
+"Will it!" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Wake me up in the night and ask me," said Chimp.
+
+"Me, too," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+Their generous enthusiasm seemed to have had its effect. The ferocity
+faded from John's demeanour. Something resembling a smile flitted
+across his face, as if some pleasing thought was entertaining him. Mr.
+Molloy relaxed his tension and breathed again. Chimp, in his relief,
+found himself raising a hand to his moustache.
+
+"I see," said John slowly.
+
+He passed his fingers thoughtfully over his unshaven chin.
+
+"Is there a car in your garage?" he asked.
+
+"Sure there's a car in my garage," said Chimp. "Your car."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But that girl went off in it."
+
+"She sent it back."
+
+So overwhelming was the joy of these tidings that John found himself
+regarding Chimp almost with liking. His car was safe after all. His
+Arab Steed! His Widgeon Seven!
+
+Any further conversation after this stupendous announcement would,
+he felt, be an anti-climax. Without a word he darted to the door and
+passed through, leaving the two partners staring after him blankly.
+
+"Well, what do you know about that?" said Chimp.
+
+Mr. Molloy's comment on the situation remained unspoken, for even as
+his lips parted for the utterance of what would no doubt have been a
+telling and significant speech, there came from the corridor outside a
+single, thunderous "Oo-er!" followed immediately by a sharp, smacking
+sound, and then a noise that resembled the delivery of a ton of coals.
+
+Mr. Molloy stared at Chimp. Chimp stared at Mr. Molloy.
+
+"Gosh!" said Chimp, awed.
+
+"Gosh!" said Mr. Molloy.
+
+"That was Flannery!" said Chimp, unnecessarily.
+
+"'Was,'" said Mr. Molloy, "is right."
+
+It was not immediately that either found himself disposed to leave
+the room and institute inquiries--or more probably, judging from that
+titanic crash, a post-mortem. When eventually they brought themselves
+to the deed and crept palely to the head of the stairs they were
+enabled to see, resting on the floor below, something which from
+its groans appeared at any rate for the moment to be alive. Then
+this object unscrambled itself and, rising, revealed the features of
+Sergeant-Major Flannery.
+
+Mr. Flannery seemed upset about something.
+
+"Was it you, sir?" he inquired in tones of deep reproach. "Was it you,
+Mr. Twist, that unlocked that Case's door?"
+
+"I wanted to have a talk with him," said Chimp, descending the stairs
+and gazing remorsefully at his assistant.
+
+"I have the honour to inform you," said Mr. Flannery formally, "that
+the Case has legged it."
+
+"Are you hurt?"
+
+"In reply to your question, sir," said Mr. Flannery in the same formal
+voice, "I _am_ hurt."
+
+It would have been plain to the most casual observer that the man was
+speaking no more than the truth. How in the short time at his disposal
+John had managed to do it was a mystery which baffled both Chimp and
+his partner. An egg-shaped bump stood out on the Sergeant-Major's
+forehead like a rocky promontory, and already he was exhibiting one of
+the world's most impressive black eyes. The thought that there, but
+for the grace of God, went Alexander Twist filled the proprietor of
+Healthward Ho with so deep a feeling of thankfulness that he had to
+clutch at the banister to support himself.
+
+A similar emotion was plainly animating Mr. Molloy. To have been
+shut up in a room with a man capable of execution like that--a man,
+moreover, nurturing a solid and justifiable grudge against him, and to
+have escaped uninjured was something that seemed to him to call for
+celebration. He edged off in the direction of the study. He wanted a
+drink, and he wanted it quick.
+
+Mr. Flannery, pressing a hand to his wounded eye, continued with the
+other to hold Chimp rooted to the spot. It was an eye that had much of
+the quality of the Ancient Mariner's, and Chimp did not attempt to move.
+
+"If you had listened to my advice, sir," said Mr. Flannery coldly,
+"this would never have happened. Did I or did I not say to you, Mr.
+Twist, did I or did I not repeatedly say that it was imperative and
+essential that that Case be kept securely under lock and key? And then
+you go asking for it, sir, begging for it, pleading for it, by opening
+the door and giving him the opportunity to roam the 'ouse at his sweet
+will and leg it when so disposed. I 'ad just reached the 'ead of the
+stairs when I see him. I said Oo-er! I said, and advanced smartly at
+the double to do my duty, that being what I am paid for, an' what I
+draw my salary for doing, and the next thing I know I'd copped it
+square in the eye and him and me was rolling down the stairs together.
+I bumped my 'ead against the woodwork at the bottom or it may have
+been that chest there, and for a moment all went black and I knew no
+more." Mr. Flannery paused. "All went black and I knew no more," he
+repeated, liking the phrase. "And when I came to, as the expression is,
+the Case had gone. Where he is now, Mr. Twist, 'oo can say? Murdering
+the patients as like as not or...."
+
+He broke off. Outside on the drive, diminishing in the distance,
+sounded the engine of a car.
+
+"That's him," said Mr. Flannery. "He's gorn!" He brooded for a moment.
+
+"Gorn!" he resumed. "Gorn to range the countryside and maybe 'ave 'alf
+a dozen assassinations on his conscience before the day's out. And
+you'll be responsible, Mr. Twist. On that Last Awful Day, Mr. Twist,
+when you and I and all of us come up before the Judgment Seat, do
+you know what'll 'appen? I'll tell you what'll 'appen. The Lord God
+Almighty will say, angry-like, ''Oo's responsible for all these corpses
+I see laying around 'ere?' and 'E'll look at you sort of sharp, and
+you'll have to rise up and say, 'It was me! I'm responsible for them
+corpses.' If I'd of done as Sergeant-Major Flannery repeatedly told me
+and kep' that Case under lock and key, as the saying is, there wouldn't
+have been none of these poor murdered blokes.' That's what you'll 'ave
+to rise and say, Mr. Twist. I will now leave you, sir, as I wish to go
+into the kitchen and get that young Rosa to put something on this nasty
+bruise and eye of mine. If you 'ave any further instructions for me,
+Mr. Twist, I'll be glad to attend to them. If not, I'll go up to my
+room and have a bit of a lay-down. Good morning, sir."
+
+The Sergeant-Major had said his say. He withdrew in good order along
+previously prepared lines of retreat. And Chimp, suddenly seized with
+the same idea which had taken Soapy to the study, moved slowly off down
+the passage.
+
+In the study he found Mr. Molloy, somewhat refreshed, seated at the
+telephone.
+
+"What are you doing?" he asked.
+
+"Playing the flute," replied Mr. Molloy shortly.
+
+"Who are you 'phoning to?"
+
+"Dolly, if you want to know. I've got to tell her about all this
+business going bloo-ey, haven't I? I've got to break it to her that
+after all her trouble and pains she isn't going to get a cent out of
+the thing, haven't I?"
+
+Chimp regarded his partner with disfavour. He wished he had never seen
+Mr. Molloy. He wished he might never see him again. He wished he were
+not seeing him now.
+
+"Why don't you go up to London and tell her?" he demanded sourly.
+"There's a train in twenty minutes."
+
+"I'd rather do it on the 'phone," said Mr. Molloy.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+                                   I
+
+The sun, whose rays had roused Sergeant-Major Flannery from his
+slumbers at Healthward Ho that morning, had not found it necessary to
+perform the same office for Lester Carmody at Rudge Hall. In spite of
+the fact that he had not succeeded in getting to sleep till well on in
+the small hours, Mr. Carmody woke early. There is no alarm clock so
+effective as a disturbed mind.
+
+And Mr. Carmody's mind was notably disturbed. On the previous night he
+had received shock after shock, each more staggering than the last.
+First, Bolt, the chauffeur, had revealed the fact that he had given the
+fateful ticket to John. Then Sturgis, after letting fall in the course
+of his babblings the information that Mr. Molloy knew that John had the
+ticket, had said that that young man, when last seen, had been going
+off in the company of Dolly Molloy. And finally, John had not only
+failed to appear at dinner but was not to be discovered anywhere on the
+premises at as late an hour as midnight.
+
+In these circumstances, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Mr.
+Carmody's repose was not tranquil. To one who, like himself, had had
+the advantage of hearing the views of the Molloy family on the virtues
+of knock-out drops there could be no doubt as to what had happened.
+John, suspecting nothing, must have allowed himself to be lured into
+the trap, and by this time the heirlooms of Rudge Hall were probably in
+London.
+
+Having breakfasted, contrary to the habit of years, quickly and
+sketchily, Mr. Carmody, who had haunted the stable yard till midnight,
+went there again in the faint hope of finding that his nephew had
+returned. But except for Emily, who barked at him, John's room was
+empty. Mr. Carmody wandered out into the grounds, and for some half
+hour paced the gravel paths in growing desolation of soul. Then, his
+tortured nerves becoming more and more afflicted by the behaviour of
+one of the under-gardeners who, full of the feudal spirit, insisted on
+touching his hat like a clockwork toy every time his employer passed,
+he sought refuge in his study.
+
+It was there, about one hour later, that John found him.
+
+Mr. Carmody's first emotion on beholding his long-lost nephew was one
+of ecstatic relief.
+
+"John!" he cried, bounding from his chair.
+
+Then, chilling his enthusiasm, came the thought that there might be no
+occasion for joy in this return. Probably, he reflected, John, after
+being drugged and robbed of the ticket, had simply come home in the
+ordinary course of events. After all, there would have been no reason
+for those scoundrels to detain him. Once they had got the ticket, John
+would have ceased to count.
+
+"Where have you been?" he asked in a flatter voice.
+
+A rather peculiar smile came and went on John's face.
+
+"I spent the night at Healthward Ho," he said. "Were you worried about
+me?"
+
+"Extremely worried."
+
+"I'm sorry. Doctor Twist is a hospitable chap. He wouldn't let me go."
+
+Mr. Carmody, on the point of speaking, checked himself. His position,
+he suddenly saw, was a delicate one. Unless he were prepared to lay
+claim to the possession of special knowledge, which he certainly was
+not, anything in the nature of agitation on his part must inevitably
+seem peculiar. To those without special knowledge Mr. Twist, Mr.
+Molloy, and Dolly were ordinary, respectable persons and there was no
+reason for him to exhibit concern at the news that John had spent the
+night at Healthward Ho.
+
+"Indeed?" he said carefully.
+
+"Yes," said John. "Most hospitable he was. I can't say I liked him,
+though."
+
+"No?"
+
+"No. Perhaps what prejudiced me against him was the fact of his having
+burgled the Hall the night before last."
+
+More and more Mr. Carmody was feeling, as Ronnie Fish had no doubt
+felt at the concert, that he had been forced into playing a part to
+which he was not equal. It was obviously in the rôle that at this point
+he should register astonishment, and he did his best to do so. But
+the gasp he gave sounded so unconvincing to him that he hastened to
+supplement his words.
+
+"What! What are you saying? Doctor Twist?"
+
+"Doctor Twist."
+
+"But.... But...!"
+
+"It's come as quite a surprise to you, hasn't it?" said John. And for
+the first time since this interview had begun Mr. Carmody became alive
+to the fact that in his nephew's manner there was a subtle something
+which he did not like, something decidedly odd. This might, of course,
+simply be due to the circumstance that the young man's chin was
+bristling with an unsightly growth and his eyes red about the rims.
+Perhaps it was merely his outward appearance that gave the suggestion
+of the sinister. But Mr. Carmody did not think so. He noted now that
+John's eyes, besides being red, were strangely keen. Their expression
+seemed, to his sensitive conscience, accusing. The young man was
+looking at him--yes, undoubtedly the young man was looking at him most
+unpleasantly.
+
+"By the way," said John, "Bolt gave me this ticket yesterday to give to
+you. I forgot about it till it was too late."
+
+The relatively unimportant question of whether or not there was a
+peculiar look in his nephew's eyes immediately ceased to vex Mr.
+Carmody. All he felt at this instant was an almost suffocating elation.
+He stretched out an unsteady hand.
+
+"Oh, yes," he heard himself saying. "That ticket. Quite so, of course.
+Bolt left a bag for me at Shrub Hill Station."
+
+"He did."
+
+"Give me the ticket."
+
+"Later," said John, and put it back in his pocket.
+
+Mr. Carmody's elation died away. There was no question now about
+the peculiar look in his companion's eye. It was a grim look. A
+hard, accusing look. Not at all the sort of look a man with a tender
+conscience likes to have boring into him.
+
+"What--what do you mean?"
+
+John continued to regard him with that unpleasantly fixed stare.
+
+"I hear you have offered a reward of a thousand pounds for the recovery
+of those things that were stolen, Uncle Lester."
+
+"Er--yes. Yes."
+
+"I'll claim it."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Uncle Lester," said John, and his voice made a perfect match for his
+eye, "before I left Healthward Ho I had a little talk with Mr. Twist
+and his friend Mr. Molloy. They told me a lot of interesting things. Do
+you get my meaning, or shall I make it plainer?"
+
+Mr. Carmody, who had bristled for a moment with the fury of a
+parsimonious man who sees danger threatening his cheque book, sank
+slowly back into his chair like a balloon coming to rest.
+
+"Good!" said John. "Write out a cheque and make it payable to Colonel
+Wyvern."
+
+"Colonel Wyvern?"
+
+"I am passing the reward on to him. I have a particular reason for
+wanting to end all that silly trouble between you two, and I think this
+should do it. I know he is simply waiting for you to make some sort of
+advance. So you're going to make an advance--of a thousand pounds."
+
+Mr. Carmody gulped.
+
+"Wouldn't five hundred be enough?"
+
+"A thousand."
+
+"It's such a lot of money."
+
+"A nice round sum," said John.
+
+Mr. Carmody did not share his nephew's views as to what constituted
+niceness and roundness in a sum of money, but he did not say so. He
+sighed deeply and drew his cheque book from its drawer. He supposed in
+a vague sort of way that he ought to be feeling grateful to the young
+man for not heaping him with reproaches and recrimination, but the
+agony of what he was about to do prevented any such emotion. All he
+could feel was that dull, aching sensation which comes to most of us
+when we sit down to write cheques for the benefit of others.
+
+It was as if some malignant fate had brooded over him, he felt, ever
+since this business had started. From the very first, life had been
+one long series of disbursements. All the expense of entertaining the
+Molloy family, not to mention the unspeakable Ronnie Fish.... The car
+going to and fro between Healthward Ho and Rudge at six shillings per
+trip.... The five hundred pounds he had had to pay to get Hugo out of
+the house.... And now this appalling, devastating sum for which he had
+just begun to write his cheque. Money going out all the time! Money ...
+money ... money ... And all for nothing!
+
+He blotted the cheque and held it out.
+
+"Don't give it to me," said John. "You're coming with me now to Colonel
+Wyvern's house, to hand it to him in person with a neat little speech."
+
+"I shan't know what to say."
+
+"I'll tell you."
+
+"Very well."
+
+"And after that," said John, "you and he are going to be like two
+love-birds." He thumped the desk. "Do you understand? Love-birds."
+
+"Very well."
+
+There was something in the unhappy man's tone as he spoke, something so
+crushed and forlorn that John could not but melt a little. He paused at
+the door. It crossed his mind that he might possibly be able to cheer
+him up.
+
+"Uncle Lester," he said, "how did you get on with Sergeant-Major
+Flannery at Healthward Ho?"
+
+Mr. Carmody winced. Unpleasant memories seemed to be troubling him.
+
+"Just before I left," said John, "I blacked his eye and we fell
+downstairs together."
+
+"Downstairs?"
+
+"Right down the entire flight. He thumped his head against an oak
+chest."
+
+On Mr. Carmody's drawn face there hovered for an instant a faint
+flickering smile.
+
+"I thought you'd be pleased," said John.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Colonel Wyvern hitched the celebrated eyebrows into a solid mass across
+the top of his nose, and from beneath them stared hideously at Jane,
+his parlour maid. Jane had just come into the morning room, where he
+was having a rather heated conversation with his daughter, Patricia,
+and had made the astounding statement that Mr. Lester Carmody was
+waiting in his front hall.
+
+"Who?" said Colonel Wyvern, rumbling like a thunder cloud.
+
+"Sir, please, sir, Mr. Carmody."
+
+"Mr. Carmody?"
+
+"And Mr. Carroll, sir."
+
+Pat, who had been standing by the French windows, caught in her breath
+with a little click of her firm white teeth.
+
+"Show them in, Jane," she said.
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"I will not see that old thug," said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+"Show them in, Jane," repeated Pat, firmly. "You must, Father," she
+said as the door closed. "He may have come to apologize about that
+dynamite thing."
+
+"Much more likely he's come about that business of yours. Well, I've
+told you already and I say it again that nothing will induce me..."
+
+"All right, Father. We can talk about that later. I'll be out in the
+garden if you want me."
+
+She went out through the French windows, and almost simultaneously the
+door opened and John and his uncle came in.
+
+John paused in the doorway, gazing eagerly toward the garden.
+
+"Was that Pat?" he asked.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+"Was that Pat I thought I caught a glimpse of, going into the garden?"
+
+"My daughter has just gone into the garden," said Colonel Wyvern with
+cold formality.
+
+"Oh?" said John. He seemed about to follow her but a sudden bark from
+the owner of the house brought him to a halt.
+
+"Well?" said Colonel Wyvern, and the monosyllable was a verbal pistol
+shot. It brought John back instantly from dreamland, and, almost more
+than the spectacle of his host's eyebrows, told him that life was stern
+and life was earnest.
+
+"Oh, yes," he said.
+
+"What do you mean, Oh yes?"
+
+John advanced to the table, meeting the Colonel's gaze with a steady
+eye. There is this to be said for being dosed with knock-out drops and
+shut up in locked rooms and having to take your meals through bars from
+the hands of a sergeant-major whom only a mother could love--it fits
+a normally rather shy and diffident young man for the battles of life
+as few other experiences would be able to fit him. The last time he
+and this bushy-eyebrowed man had met, John had quailed. But now mere
+eyebrows meant nothing to him. He felt hardened, like one who has been
+through the furnace.
+
+"I suppose you are surprised to see us here?"
+
+"More surprised than pleased."
+
+"My uncle was anxious to have a few words with you."
+
+"I have not the slightest desire...."
+
+"If you will just let me explain...."
+
+"I repeat, I have not the slightest desire...."
+
+"SIT DOWN!" said John.
+
+Colonel Wyvern sat down, rather as if he had been hamstrung. The action
+had been purely automatic, the outcome of that involuntary spasm of
+acquiescence which comes upon everybody when someone speaks very
+loudly and peremptorily in their presence. His obsequiousness was only
+momentary, and he was about to inquire of John what the devil he meant
+by speaking to him like that, when the young man went on.
+
+"My uncle has been very much concerned," said John, "about that
+unfortunate thing that happened in the park some weeks ago. It has been
+on his mind."
+
+The desire to say something almost inhumanely sarcastic and the
+difficulty of finding just the right words caused the Colonel to miss
+his chance of interrupting at this point. What should have been a
+searing retort became a mere splutter.
+
+"He feels he behaved badly to you. He admits freely that in grabbing
+you round the waist and putting you in between him and that dynamite he
+acted on the spur of an impulse to which he should never have yielded.
+He has been wondering ever since how best he might heal the breach.
+Haven't you, Uncle Lester?"
+
+Mr. Carmody swallowed painfully.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He says 'Yes'," said John, relaying the information to its receiving
+station. "You have always been his closest friend, and the thought that
+there was this estrangement has been preying on my uncle's mind. This
+morning, unable to endure it any longer, he came to me and asked my
+advice. I was very glad to give it him. And I am still more glad that
+he took it. My uncle will now say a few words.... Uncle Lester!"
+
+Mr. Carmody rose haltingly from his seat. He was a man who stood on the
+verge of parting with one thousand pounds in cool cash, and he looked
+it. His face was haggard, and his voice, when he contrived to speak,
+thin and trembling.
+
+"Wyvern, I...."
+
+"... thought ..." prompted John.
+
+"I thought," said Mr. Carmody, "that in the circumstances...."
+
+"It would be best...."
+
+"It would be best if...."
+
+Words--and there should have been sixty-three more of them--failed Mr.
+Carmody. He pushed a slip of paper across the table and resumed his
+seat, a suffering man.
+
+"I fail to...." began Colonel Wyvern. And then his eye fell on the slip
+of paper, and pomposity slipped from him like breath off a razor blade.
+"What--what----?" he said.
+
+"Moral and intellectual damages," said John. "My uncle feels he owes it
+to you."
+
+Silence fell upon the room. The Colonel had picked up the cheque and
+was scrutinizing it as if he had been a naturalist and it some rare
+specimen encountered in the course of his walks abroad. His eyebrows,
+disentangling themselves and moving apart, rose in an astonishment he
+made no attempt to conceal. He looked from the cheque to Mr. Carmody
+and back again.
+
+"Good God!" said Colonel Wyvern.
+
+With a sudden movement he tore the paper in two, burst into a crackling
+laugh and held his hand out.
+
+"Good God!" he cried jovially. "Do you think I want money? All I ever
+wanted was for you to admit you were an old scoundrel and murderer, and
+you've done it. And if you knew how lonely it's been in this infernal
+place with no one to speak to or smoke a cigar with...."
+
+Mr. Carmody had risen, in his eyes the look of one who sees visions and
+beholds miracles. He gazed at his old friend in awe. Long as he had
+known him, it was only now that he realized his true nobility of soul.
+
+"Wyvern!"
+
+"Carmody," said Colonel Wyvern, "how are the pike?"
+
+"The pike?" Mr. Carmody blinked, still dazed. "Pike?"
+
+"In the moat. Have you caught the big one yet?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"I'll come up and try for him this afternoon, shall I?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He says 'Yes'," said John, interpreting.
+
+"And only just now," said Colonel Wyvern, "I was savaging my daughter
+because she wanted to marry into your family!"
+
+"What's that?" cried Mr. Carmody, and John clutched the edge of the
+table. His heart had given a sudden, ecstatic leap, and for an instant
+the room had seemed to rock about him.
+
+"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. He broke into another of his laughs, and
+John could not help wondering where Pat had got that heavenly tinkle of
+silver bells which served her on occasion when she was amused. Not from
+her father's side of the family.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Carmody.
+
+"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. "She came to me just before you arrived and
+told me that she wanted to marry your nephew Hugo."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XV
+
+
+                                   I
+
+Some years before, in pursuance of his duties as a member of the
+English Rugby Football fifteen, it had become necessary for John one
+rainy afternoon in Dublin to fall on the ball at a moment when five or
+six muscular Irish forwards full of Celtic enthusiasm were endeavouring
+to kick it. Until this moment he had always ranked that as the most
+unpleasant and disintegrating experience of his life.
+
+His fingers tightened their clutch on the table. He found its support
+grateful. He blinked, once very quickly as if he had just received a
+blow in the face, and then a second time more slowly.
+
+"Hugo?" he said.
+
+He felt numbed, just as he had felt numbed in Dublin when what had
+appeared to be a flock of centipedes with cleated boots had made him
+the object of their attentions. All the breath had gone out of him, and
+though what he was suffering was at the present more a dull shock than
+actual pain, he realized dimly that there would be pain coming shortly
+in full measure.
+
+"Hugo?" he said.
+
+Faintly blurred by the drumming of the blood in his ears, there came to
+him the sound of his uncle's voice. Mr. Carmody was saying that he was
+delighted. And the utter impossibility of remaining in the same room
+with a man who could be delighted at the news that Pat was engaged to
+Hugo swept over John like a wave. Releasing his grip on the table, he
+laid a course for the French windows and, reaching them, tottered out
+into the garden.
+
+Pat was walking on the little lawn, and at the sight of her his
+numbness left John. He seemed to wake with a start, and, waking, found
+himself in the grip of a great many emotions which, after seething and
+bubbling for a while, crystallized suddenly into a white-hot fury.
+
+He was hurt all over and through and through, but he was so angry that
+only subconsciously was he aware of this. Pat was looking so cool
+and trim and alluring, so altogether as if it caused her no concern
+whatever that she had made a fool of a good man, raising his hopes only
+to let them fall and encouraging him to dream dreams only to shatter
+them, that he felt he hated her.
+
+She turned as he stepped onto the grass, and they looked at one another
+in silence for a moment. Then John, in a voice which was strangely
+unlike his own, said, "Good morning."
+
+"Good morning," said Pat, and there was silence again.
+
+She did not attempt to avoid his eye--the least, John felt, that she
+could have done in the circumstances. She was looking straight at him,
+and there was something of defiance in her gaze. Her chin was tilted.
+To her, judging from her manner, he was not the man whose hopes she had
+frivolously raised by kissing him that night on the Skirme, but merely
+an unwelcome intruder interrupting a pleasant reverie.
+
+"So you're back?" she said.
+
+John swallowed what appeared to be some sort of obstruction half-way
+down his chest. He was anxious to speak, but afraid that, if he spoke,
+he would stammer. And a man on an occasion like this does not wish to
+give away by stammering the fact that he is not perfectly happy and
+debonair and altogether without a care in the world.
+
+"I hear you're engaged to Hugo," he said, speaking carefully and
+spacing the syllables so that they did not run into each other as they
+showed an inclination to do.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I congratulate you."
+
+"You ought to congratulate him, oughtn't you, and just say to me that
+you hope I'll be happy?"
+
+"I hope you will be happy," said John, accepting this maxim from the
+Book of Etiquette.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Very happy."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"It's--a little sudden, isn't it?"
+
+"Is it?"
+
+"When did Hugo get back?"
+
+"This morning. His letter arrived by the first post, and he came in
+right on top of it."
+
+"His letter?"
+
+"Yes. He wrote asking me to marry him."
+
+"Oh?"
+
+Pat traced an arabesque on the grass with the toe of her shoe.
+
+"It was a beautiful letter."
+
+"Was it?"
+
+"Very. I didn't think Hugo was capable of it."
+
+John remained for a moment without speaking. He searched his mind for
+care-free, debonair remarks, and found it singularly short of them.
+
+"Hugo's a splendid chap," he contrived to say at length.
+
+"Yes--so bright!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Nice-looking fellow."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A thoroughly good chap."
+
+"Yes."
+
+John found that he had exhausted the subject of Hugo's qualities.
+He relapsed into a gray silence and half thought of treading on an
+offensively cheerful worm which had just appeared beside his shoe and
+seemed to be asking for it.
+
+Pat stifled a little yawn.
+
+"Did you have a nice time yesterday?" she asked carelessly.
+
+"Not so very nice," said John. "I dare say you heard that we had a
+burglary up at the Hall? I went off to catch the criminals and they
+caught me!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"I was fool enough to let myself be drugged, and when I woke up I was
+locked in a room with bars on the windows. I only got out an hour or so
+ago."
+
+"Johnnie!"
+
+"However, it all ended happily. I've got back the stuff that was
+stolen."
+
+"But, Johnnie! I thought you had gone off picnicking with that Molloy
+girl."
+
+"It may have been her idea of picnicking. She was one of the gang.
+Quite the leading spirit, I gather."
+
+He had lowered his eyes, wondering once more whether it would not be
+judicious to put it across that worm after all, when an odd choking
+sound caused him to look up. Pat's mouth had opened, and she was
+staring at him wide-eyed. And if she had ever looked more utterly
+beautiful and marvellous, John could not remember the occasion.
+Something seemed to clutch at his throat, and the garden, seen
+indistinctly through a mist, danced a few steps in a tentative sort of
+way, as if it were trying out something new that had just come over
+from America.
+
+And then, as the mist cleared, John found that he and Pat were not, as
+he had supposed, alone. Standing beside him was a rugged and slightly
+unkempt person clad in a bearskin which had obviously not been made to
+measure, in whom he recognized at once that Stone Age Ancestor of his
+who had given him a few words of advice the other night on the path
+leading to the boathouse.
+
+The Ancestor was looking at him reproachfully. In appearance he was
+rather like Sergeant-Major Flannery, and when he spoke it was with that
+well-remembered voice.
+
+"Oo-er," said the Ancestor, peevishly twiddling a flint-axe in his
+powerful fingers. "Now you see, young fellow, what's happened or
+occurred or come about, if I may use the expression, through your not
+doing what I told you. Did I or did I not repeatedly urge and advise
+you to be'ave towards this girl in the manner which 'as been tested
+and proved the correct one by me and all the rest of your ancestors in
+the days when men were men and knew how to go about these matters? Now
+you've lost her, whereas if you'd done as I said...."
+
+"Stay!" said a quiet, saintly voice, and John perceived that another
+form had ranged itself beside him.
+
+"Still, maybe it's not too late even now...."
+
+"No, no," said the newcomer, and John was now able to see that this was
+his Better Self, "I really must protest. Let us, please, be restrained
+and self-effacing. I deprecate these counsels of violence."
+
+"Tested and proved correct...." inserted the Ancestor. "I'm giving him
+good advice, that's what I'm doing. I'm pointing out to 'im, as you may
+say, the proper method."
+
+"I consider your advice subversive to a degree," said Better Self
+coldly, "and I disapprove of your methods. The obviously correct thing
+for this young man to do in the circumstances in which he finds himself
+is to accept the situation like a gentleman. This girl is engaged to
+another man, a good-looking, bright young man, the heir to a great
+estate and an excellent match...."
+
+"Mashed potatoes!" said the Stone Age Ancestor coarsely. "The 'ole
+thing 'ere, young fellow, is you just take this girl and grab her
+and 'old 'er in your arms, as the saying is, and never mind how many
+bright, good-looking young men she's engaged to. 'Strewth! When I was
+in me prime you wouldn't have found me 'esitating. You do as I say, me
+lad, and you won't regret it. Just you spring smartly to attention and
+grab 'er with both 'ands in a soldierly manner."
+
+"Oh, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" said Pat, and her voice was a wail.
+Her eyes were bright with dismay, and her hands fluttered in a helpless
+manner which alone would have been enough to decide a man already
+swaying toward the methods of the good old days when cavemen were
+cavemen.
+
+John hesitated no longer. Hugo be blowed! His Better Self be blowed!
+Everything and everybody be blowed except this really excellent old
+gentleman who, though he might have been better tailored, was so
+obviously a mine of information on what a young man should know.
+Drawing a deep breath and springing smartly to attention, he held out
+his arms in a soldierly manner, and Pat came into them like a little
+boat sailing into harbour after a storm. A faint receding sigh told
+him that his Better Self had withdrawn discomfited, but the sigh was
+drowned by the triumphant approval of the Ancestor.
+
+"Oo-er," boomed the Ancestor thunderously.
+
+"So this is how it feels!" said John to himself.
+
+"Oh, Johnnie!" said Pat.
+
+The garden had learned that dance now. It was simple once you got the
+hang of it. All you had to do, if you were a tree, was to jump up and
+down, while, if you were a lawn, you just went round and round. So the
+trees jumped up and down and the lawn went round and round, and John
+stood still in the middle of it all, admiring it.
+
+"Oh, Johnnie," said Pat. "What on earth shall I do?"
+
+"Go on just like you are now."
+
+"But about Hugo, I mean."
+
+Hugo? Hugo? John concentrated his mind. Yes, he recalled now, there had
+been some little difficulty about Hugo. What was it? Ah, yes.
+
+"Pat," he said, "I love you. Do you love me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then what on earth," demanded John, "did you go and do a silly thing
+like getting engaged to Hugo for?"
+
+He spoke a little severely, for in some mysterious fashion all the
+awe with which this girl had inspired him for so many years had left
+him. His inferiority complex had gone completely. And it was due, he
+gathered, purely and solely to the fact that he was holding her in his
+arms and kissing her. At any moment during the last half-dozen years
+this childishly simple remedy had been at his disposal and he had not
+availed himself of it. He was astonished at his remissness, and his
+feeling of gratitude, toward that Ancestor of his in the baggy bearskin
+who had pointed out the way, became warmer than ever.
+
+"But I thought you didn't care a bit for me," wailed Pat.
+
+John stared.
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Didn't care for you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You thought I didn't care for you?"
+
+"Well, you had promised to take me to Wenlock Edge and you never turned
+up and I found you had gone out in your car with that Molloy girl.
+Naturally I thought...."
+
+"You shouldn't have."
+
+"Well, I did. And so when Hugo's letter came it seemed such a wonderful
+chance of showing you that I didn't care. And now what am I to do? What
+can I say to Hugo?"
+
+It was a nuisance for John to have to detach his mind from what really
+mattered in life to trivialities like this absurd business of Hugo, but
+he supposed the thing, if only to ease Pat's mind, would have to be
+given a little attention.
+
+"Hugo thinks he's engaged to you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he isn't."
+
+"No."
+
+"Then that," said John, seeing the thing absolutely clearly, "is all
+we've got to tell him."
+
+"You talk as if it were so simple!"
+
+"So it is. What's hard about it?"
+
+"I wish you had it to do instead of me!"
+
+"But of course I'll do it," said John. It astonished him that she
+should have contemplated any other course. Naturally, when the great
+strong man becomes engaged to the timid, fluttering little girl he
+takes over all her worries and handles in his efficient, masculine way
+any problem that may be vexing her.
+
+"Would you really, Johnnie?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"I don't feel I can look him in the face."
+
+"You won't miss much. Where is he?"
+
+"He went off in the direction of the village."
+
+"Carmody Arms," diagnosed John. "I'll go and tell him at once." And he
+strode down the garden with strong, masterful steps.
+
+
+                                  II
+
+Hugo was not in the Carmody Arms. He was standing on the bridge over
+the Skirme, his elbows resting on the parapet, his eyes fixed on the
+flowing water. For a suitor recently accepted by--presumably--the girl
+of his heart, he looked oddly downcast. His eye, when he turned at the
+sound of his name, was the eye of a fish that has had trouble.
+
+"Hullo, John, old man," he said in a toneless voice.
+
+John began to feel his way into the subject he had come to discuss.
+
+"Nice day," he said.
+
+"What is?" said Hugo.
+
+"This."
+
+"I'm glad you think so. John," said Hugo, attaching himself sombrely
+to his cousin's coat sleeve, "I want your advice. In many ways you're
+a stodgy sort of a Gawd-help-us, but you're a level-headed kind of old
+bird, at that, and I want your advice. The fact is, John, believe me or
+believe me not, I've made an ass of myself."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"I've gone and got engaged to Pat."
+
+Having exploded this bombshell, Hugo leaned against the parapet and
+gazed at his cousin with a certain moody satisfaction.
+
+"Yes?" said John.
+
+"You don't seem much surprised," said Hugo, disappointed.
+
+"Oh, I'm astonished," said John. "How did it happen?"
+
+Hugo, who had released his companion's coat sleeve, now reached out for
+it again. The feel of it seemed to inspire him.
+
+"It was that bloke Bessemer's wedding that started the whole trouble,"
+he said. "You remember I told you about Ronnie's man, Bessemer."
+
+"I remember you said he had remarkable ears."
+
+"Like airplane wings. Nevertheless, in spite of that, he got married
+yesterday. The wedding took place from Ronnie's flat."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+Hugo sighed.
+
+"Well, you know how it is, John, old man. There's something about a
+wedding, even the wedding of a gargoyle like Bessemer, that seems
+to breed sentimentality. It may have been the claret cup. I warned
+Ronnie from the first against the claret cup. A noxious drink. But he
+said--with a good deal of truth, no doubt--that if I thought he was
+going to waste champagne on a blighter who was leaving him in the lurch
+without a tear I was jolly well mistaken. So we more or less bathed in
+claret cup at the subsequent festivities, and it wasn't more than an
+hour afterward when something seemed to come over me all in a rush."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Well, a sort of aching, poignant feeling. All the sorrows of the world
+seemed to be laid out in front of me in a solid mass."
+
+"That sounds more like lobster."
+
+"It may have been the lobster," conceded Hugo. "But I maintain that the
+claret cup helped. Well, I just sat there, bursting with pity for the
+whole human race, and then suddenly it all seemed in a flash, as it
+were, to become concentrated on Pat."
+
+"You burst with pity for Pat?"
+
+"Yes. You see, an idea suddenly came to me. I thought about you and Pat
+and how Pat, in spite of all my arguments, wouldn't look at you, and
+all at once there flashed across me what I took to be the explanation.
+Something seemed to whisper to me that the reason Pat couldn't see you
+with a spy glass was that all these years she had been secretly pining
+for me."
+
+"What on earth made you think that?"
+
+"Looking back on it now, in a clear and judicial frame of mind, I can
+see that it was the claret cup. That and the general ghastly, soppy
+atmosphere of a wedding. I sat straight down, John, old man, and I
+wrote a letter to Pat, asking her to marry me. I was filled with a sort
+of divine pity for the poor girl."
+
+"Why do you call her the poor girl? She wasn't married to you."
+
+"And then I had a moment of sense, so I thought that before I posted
+the letter I'd go for a stroll and think it over. I left the letter on
+Ronnie's desk, and got my hat and took a turn round the Serpentine.
+And, what with the fresh air and everything, pretty soon I found Reason
+returning to her throne. I had been on the very brink, I realized, of
+making a most consummate chump of myself. Here I was, I reflected, on
+the threshold of a career, when it was vitally necessary that I should
+avoid all entanglements, and concentrate myself wholly on my life
+work, deliberately going out of my way to get myself hitched up. I'm
+not saying anything against Pat. Don't think that. We've always been
+the best of pals, and if I were backed into a corner and made to marry
+someone I'd just as soon it was her. It was the principle of the thing
+that was all wrong, if you see what I mean. Entanglements. I had to
+keep myself clear of them."
+
+Hugo paused and glanced down at the water of the Skirme, as if debating
+the advisability of throwing himself into it. After a while he resumed.
+
+"I was bunging a bit of wedding cake to the Serpentine ducks when I
+got this flash of clear vision, and I turned straight round and legged
+it back to the flat to destroy that letter. And when I got there the
+letter had gone. And the bride's mother, a stout old lady with a cast
+in the left eye, who was still hanging about the kitchen, finishing
+up the remains of the wedding feast, told me without a tremor in her
+voice, with her mouth full of lobster mayonnaise, that she had given it
+to Bessemer to post on his way to the station."
+
+"So there you were," said John.
+
+"So there," agreed Hugo, "I was. The happy pair, I knew, were to spend
+the honeymoon at Bexhill, so I rushed out and grabbed a taxi and
+offered the man double fare if he would get me to Victoria Station in
+five minutes. He did it with seconds to spare, but it was too late.
+The first thing I saw on reaching the platform was the Bexhill train
+pulling out. Bessemer's face was visible in one of the front coaches.
+He was leaning out of the window, trying to detach a white satin shoe
+which some kind friend had tied to the door handle. And I slumped back
+against a passing porter, knowing that this was the end."
+
+"What did you do then?"
+
+"I went back to Ronnie's flat to look up the trains to Rudge. Are
+you aware, John, that this place has the rottenest train service in
+England? After the five-sixteen, which I'd missed, there isn't anything
+till nine-twenty. And, what with having all this on my mind and getting
+a bit of dinner and not keeping a proper eye on the clock, I missed
+that, too. In the end, I had to take the 3 A.M. milk train. I won't
+attempt to describe to you what a hell of a journey it was, but I got
+to Rudge at last, and, racing like a hare, rushed to Pat's house. I had
+a sort of idea I might intercept the postman and get him to give me my
+letter back."
+
+"He wouldn't have done that."
+
+"He didn't have to, as things turned out. Just as I got to the house,
+he was coming out after delivering the letters. I think I must have
+gone to sleep then, standing up. At any rate, I came to with a deuce of
+a start, and I was leaning against Pat's front gate, and there was Pat
+looking at me, and I said, 'Hullo!' and she said, 'Hullo! and then she
+said in rather a rummy sort of voice that she'd got my letter and read
+it and would be delighted to marry me."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Oh, I said, 'Thanks awfully,' or words to that effect, and tooled off
+to the Carmody Arms to get a bite of breakfast. Which I sorely needed,
+old boy. And then I think I fell asleep again, because the next thing
+I knew was old Judwin, the coffee-room waiter, trying to haul my head
+out of the marmalade. After that I came here and stood on this bridge,
+thinking things over. And what I want to know from you, John, is what
+is to be done."
+
+John reflected.
+
+"It's an awkward business."
+
+"Dashed awkward. It's imperative that I oil out, and yet I don't want
+to break the poor girl's heart."
+
+"This will require extraordinarily careful handling."
+
+"Yes."
+
+John reflected again.
+
+"Let me see," he said suddenly, "when did you say Pat got engaged to
+you?"
+
+"It must have been around nine, I suppose."
+
+"You're sure?"
+
+"Well, that would be the time the first post would be delivered,
+wouldn't it?"
+
+"Yes, but you said you went to sleep after seeing the postman."
+
+"That's true. But what does it matter, anyway?"
+
+"It's most important. Well, look here, it was more than ten minutes
+ago, wasn't it?"
+
+"Of course it was."
+
+John's face cleared.
+
+"Then that's all right," he said. "Because ten minutes ago Pat got
+engaged to me."
+
+
+                                  III
+
+A light breeze was blowing through the garden as John returned. It
+played with sunshine in Pat's hair as she stood by the lavender hedge.
+
+"Well?" she said eagerly.
+
+"It's all right," said John.
+
+"You told him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+There was a pause. The bees buzzed among the lavender.
+
+"Was he----?"
+
+"Cut up?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Yes," said John in a low voice. "But he took it like a sportsman. I
+left him almost cheerful."
+
+He would have said more, but at this moment his attention was diverted
+by a tickling sensation in his right leg. A suspicion that one of the
+bees, wearying of lavender, was exploring the surface of his calf, came
+to John. But, even as he raised a hand to swat the intruder, Pat spoke
+again.
+
+"Johnnie."
+
+"Hullo?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."
+
+John's suspicion grew. It felt like a bee. He believed it was a bee.
+
+"Thinking? What about?"
+
+"You."
+
+"Me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What were you thinking about me?"
+
+"Only that you were the most wonderful thing in the world."
+
+"Pat!"
+
+"You are, you know," said Pat, examining him gravely. "I don't know
+what it is about you, and I can't imagine why I have been all
+these years finding it out, but you're the dearest, sweetest, most
+angelic...."
+
+"Tell me more," said John.
+
+He took her in his arms, and time stood still.
+
+"Pat!" whispered John.
+
+He was now positive that it was a bee, and almost as positive that it
+was merely choosing a suitable spot before stinging him. But he made no
+move. The moment was too sacred.
+
+After all, bee stings were good for rheumatism.
+
+
+                                THE END
+
+
+
 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***
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-<body>

-<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***</div>

-

-<div class="titlepage">

-

-<h1>MONEY FOR NOTHING</h1>

-

-<p class="ph1">BY P. G. WODEHOUSE</p>

-

-<p>GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK<br>

-DOUBLEDAY, DORAN &amp; COMPANY, INC.<br>

-1928</p>

-

-<p>COPYRIGHT, 1928,<br>

-BY P. G. WODEHOUSE<br>

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br>

-PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT<br>

-THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS,<br>

-GARDEN CITY, N. Y.</p>

-

-<p>FIRST EDITION</p>

-

-</div>

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-<h2>CONTENTS</h2>

-

-<table>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></td></tr>

-</table>

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h2>MONEY FOR NOTHING</h2>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>The picturesque village of Rudge-in-the-Vale dozed in the summer

-sunshine. Along its narrow High Street the only signs of life visible

-were a cat stropping its backbone against the Jubilee Watering Trough,

-some flies doing deep-breathing exercises on the hot window sills, and

-a little group of serious thinkers who, propped up against the wall of

-the Carmody Arms, were waiting for that establishment to open. At no

-time is there ever much doing in Rudge's main thoroughfare, but the

-hour at which a stranger, entering it, is least likely to suffer the

-illusion that he has strayed into Broadway, Piccadilly, or the Rue de

-Rivoli is at two o'clock on a warm afternoon in July.</p>

-

-<p>You will find Rudge-in-the-Vale, if you search carefully, in

-that pleasant section of rural England where the gray stone of

-Gloucestershire gives place to Worcestershire's old red brick. Quiet,

-in fact, almost unconscious, it nestles beside the tiny river Skirme

-and lets the world go by, somnolently content with its Norman church,

-its eleven public-houses, its Pop.—to quote the Automobile Guide—of

-3,541, and its only effort in the direction of modern progress, the

-emporium of Chas. Bywater, Chemist.</p>

-

-<p>Chas. Bywater is a live wire. He takes no afternoon siesta, but works

-while others sleep. Rudge as a whole is inclined after luncheon to go

-into the back room, put a handkerchief over its face and take things

-easy for a bit. But not Chas. Bywater. At the moment at which this

-story begins he was all bustle and activity, and had just finished

-selling to Colonel Meredith Wyvern a bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir (said to be good for gnat bites).</p>

-

-<p>Having concluded his purchase, Colonel Wyvern would have preferred

-to leave, but Mr. Bywater was a man who liked to sweeten trade with

-pleasant conversation. Moreover, this was the first time the Colonel

-had been inside his shop since that sensational affair up at the Hall

-two weeks ago, and Chas. Bywater, who held the unofficial position of

-chief gossip monger to the village, was aching to get to the bottom of

-that.</p>

-

-<p>With the bare outline of the story he was, of course, familiar. Rudge

-Hall, seat of the Carmody family for so many generations, contained in

-its fine old park a number of trees which had been planted somewhere

-about the reign of Queen Elizabeth. This meant that every now and

-then one of them would be found to have become a wobbly menace to the

-passer-by, so that experts had to be sent for to reduce it with a

-charge of dynamite to a harmless stump. Well, two weeks ago, it seems,

-they had blown up one of the Hall's Elizabethan oaks and as near as a

-toucher, Rudge learned, had blown up Colonel Wyvern and Mr. Carmody

-with it. The two friends had come walking by just as the expert set

-fire to the train and had had a very narrow escape.</p>

-

-<p>Thus far the story was common property in the village, and had been

-discussed nightly in the eleven tap-rooms of its eleven public-houses.

-But Chas. Bywater, with his trained nose for news and that sixth sense

-which had so often enabled him to ferret out the story behind the story

-when things happen in the upper world of the nobility and gentry, could

-not help feeling that there was more in it than this. He decided to

-give his customer the opportunity of confiding in him.</p>

-

-<p>"Warm day, Colonel," he observed.</p>

-

-<p>"Ur," grunted Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>"Glass going up, I see."</p>

-

-<p>"Ur."</p>

-

-<p>"May be in for a spell of fine weather at last."</p>

-

-<p>"Ur."</p>

-

-<p>"Glad to see you looking so well, Colonel, after your little accident,"

-said Chas. Bywater, coming out into the open.</p>

-

-<p>It had been Colonel Wyvern's intention, for he was a man of testy

-habit, to enquire of Mr. Bywater why the devil he couldn't wrap a

-bottle of Brophy's Elixir in brown paper and put a bit of string round

-it without taking the whole afternoon over the task: but at these words

-he abandoned this project. Turning a bright mauve and allowing his

-luxuriant eyebrows to meet across the top of his nose, he subjected the

-other to a fearful glare.</p>

-

-<p>"Little accident?" he said. "Little accident?"</p>

-

-<p>"I was alluding——"</p>

-

-<p>"Little accident!"</p>

-

-<p>"I merely——"</p>

-

-<p>"If by little accident," said Colonel Wyvern in a thick, throaty voice,

-"you mean my miraculous escape from death when that fat thug up at the

-Hall did his very best to murder me, I should be obliged if you would

-choose your expressions more carefully. Little accident! Good God!"</p>

-

-<p>Few things in this world are more painful than the realization that an

-estrangement has occurred between two old friends who for years have

-jogged amiably along together through life, sharing each other's joys

-and sorrows and holding the same views on religion, politics, cigars,

-wine, and the Decadence of the Younger Generation: and Mr. Bywater's

-reaction, on hearing Colonel Wyvern describe Mr. Lester Carmody, of

-Rudge Hall, until two short weeks ago his closest crony, as a fat thug,

-should have been one of sober sadness. Such, however, was not the

-case. Rather was he filled with an unholy exultation. All along he had

-maintained that there was more in that Hall business than had become

-officially known, and he stood there with his ears flapping, waiting

-for details.</p>

-

-<p>These followed immediately and in great profusion: and Mr. Bywater, as

-he drank them in, began to realize that his companion had certain solid

-grounds for feeling a little annoyed. For when, as Colonel Wyvern very

-sensibly argued, you have been a man's friend for twenty years and are

-walking with him in his park and hear warning shouts and look up and

-realize that a charge of dynamite is shortly about to go off in your

-immediate neighbourhood, you expect a man who is a man to be a man. You

-do not expect him to grab you round the waist and thrust you swiftly

-in between himself and the point of danger, so that, when the explosion

-takes place, you get the full force of it and he escapes without so

-much as a singed eyebrow.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater, hitching up his ears another inch.</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern continued. Whether, if in a condition to give the matter

-careful thought, he would have selected Chas. Bywater as a confidant,

-one cannot say. But he was not in such a condition. The stoppered

-bottle does not care whose is the hand that removes its cork—all

-it wants is the chance to fizz: and Colonel Wyvern resembled such a

-bottle. Owing to the absence from home of his daughter, Patricia, he

-had had no one handy to act as audience for his grievances, and for two

-weeks he had been suffering torments. He told Chas. Bywater all.</p>

-

-<p>It was a very vivid picture that he conjured up. Mr. Bywater could see

-the whole thing as clearly as if he had been present in person—from

-the blasting gang's first horrified realization that human beings

-had wandered into the danger zone to the almost tenser moment when,

-running up to sort out the tangled heap on the ground, they had

-observed Colonel Wyvern rise from his seat on Mr. Carmody's face and

-had heard him start to tell that gentleman precisely what he thought

-of him. Privately, Mr. Bywater considered that Mr. Carmody had acted

-with extraordinary presence of mind, and had given the lie to the

-theory, held by certain critics, that the landed gentry of England are

-deficient in intelligence. But his sympathies were, of course, with

-the injured man. He felt that Colonel Wyvern had been hardly treated,

-and was quite right to be indignant about it. As to whether the other

-was justified in alluding to his former friend as a jelly-bellied

-hell-hound, that was a matter for his own conscience to decide.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm suing him," concluded Colonel Wyvern, regarding an advertisement

-of Pringle's Pink Pills with a smouldering eye.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite."</p>

-

-<p>"The only thing in the world that super-fatted old Blackhander cares

-for is money, and I'll have his last penny out of him, if I have to

-take the case to the House of Lords."</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>"I might have been killed. It was a miracle I wasn't. Five thousand

-pounds is the lowest figure any conscientious jury could put the

-damages at. And, if there were any justice in England, they'd ship the

-scoundrel off to pick oakum in a prison cell."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Bywater made noncommittal noises. Both parties to this unfortunate

-affair were steady customers of his, and he did not wish to alienate

-either by taking sides. He hoped the Colonel was not going to ask him

-for his opinion of the rights of the case.</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern did not. Having relieved himself with some six minutes

-of continuous speech, he seemed to have become aware that he had

-bestowed his confidences a little injudiciously. He coughed and changed

-the subject.</p>

-

-<p>"Where's that stuff?" he said. "Good God! Isn't it ready yet? Why does

-it take you fellows three hours to tie a knot in a piece of string?"</p>

-

-<p>"Quite ready, Colonel," said Chas. Bywater hastily. "Here it is. I have

-put a little loop for the finger, to facilitate carrying."</p>

-

-<p>"Is this stuff really any good?"</p>

-

-<p>"Said to be excellent, Colonel. Thank you, Colonel. Much obliged,

-Colonel. Good day, Colonel."</p>

-

-<p>Still fermenting at the recollection of his wrongs, Colonel Wyvern

-strode to the door: and, pushing it open with extreme violence, left

-the shop.</p>

-

-<p>The next moment the peace of the drowsy summer afternoon was shattered

-by a hideous uproar. Much of this consisted of a high, passionate

-barking, the remainder being contributed by the voice of a retired

-military man, raised in anger. Chas. Bywater blenched, and, reaching

-out a hand toward an upper shelf, brought down, in the order named,

-a bundle of lint, a bottle of arnica, and one of the half-crown (or

-large) size pots of Sooth-o, the recognized specific for cuts, burns,

-scratches, nettle stings, and dog bites. He believed in Preparedness.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>While Colonel Wyvern had been pouring his troubles into the twitching

-ear of Chas. Bywater, there had entered the High Street a young man in

-golf clothes and Old Rugbian tie. This was John Carroll, nephew of Mr.

-Carmody, of the Hall. He had walked down to the village, accompanied

-by his dog Emily, to buy tobacco, and his objective, therefore, was

-the same many-sided establishment which was supplying the Colonel with

-Brophy's Elixir.</p>

-

-<p>For do not be deceived by that "Chemist" after Mr. Bywater's name. It

-is mere modesty. Some whim leads this great man to describe himself as

-a chemist, but in reality he goes much deeper than that. Chas. is the

-Marshall Field of Rudge, and deals in everything, from crystal sets to

-mousetraps. There are several places in the village where you can get

-stuff they call tobacco, but it cannot be considered in the light of

-pipe-joy for the discriminating smoker. To obtain something that will

-leave a little skin on the roof of the mouth you must go to Mr. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>John came up the High Street with slow, meditative strides, a large

-and muscular young man whose pleasant features betrayed at the

-moment an inward gloom. What with being hopelessly in love and one

-thing and another, his soul was in rather a bruised condition these

-days, and he found himself deriving from the afternoon placidity of

-Rudge-in-the-Vale a certain balm and consolation. He had sunk into a

-dreamy trance when he was abruptly aroused by the horrible noise which

-had so shaken Chas. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>The causes which had brought about this disturbance were simple and

-are easily explained. It was the custom of the dog Emily, on the

-occasions when John brought her to Rudge to help him buy tobacco,

-to yield to an uncontrollable eagerness and gallop on ahead to Mr.

-Bywater's shop—where, with her nose wedged against the door, she would

-stand, sniffing emotionally, till somebody came and opened it. She

-had a morbid passion for cough drops, and experience had taught her

-that by sitting and ogling Mr. Bywater with her liquid amber eyes she

-could generally secure two or three. To-day, hurrying on as usual, she

-had just reached the door and begun to sniff when it suddenly opened

-and hit her sharply on the nose. And, as she shot back with a yelp of

-agony, out came Colonel Wyvern carrying his bottle of Brophy.</p>

-

-<p>There is an etiquette in these matters on which all right-minded dogs

-insist. When people trod on Emily, she expected them immediately to

-fuss over her, and the same procedure seemed to her to be in order when

-they hit her on the nose with doors. Waiting expectantly, therefore,

-for Colonel Wyvern to do the square thing, she was stunned to find that

-he apparently had no intention of even apologizing. He was brushing

-past without a word, and all the woman in Emily rose in revolt against

-such boorishness.</p>

-

-<p>"Just a minute!" she said dangerously. "Just one minute, if you please.

-Not so fast, my good man. A word with you, if I may trespass upon your

-valuable time."</p>

-

-<p>The Colonel, chafing beneath the weight of his wrongs, perceived that

-they had been added to by a beast of a hairy dog that stood and yapped

-at him.</p>

-

-<p>"Get out!" he bellowed.</p>

-

-<p>Emily became hysterical.</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed?" she said shrilly. "And who do you think you are, you poor

-clumsy Robot? You come hitting ladies on the nose as if you were the

-King of England, and as if that wasn't enough...."</p>

-

-<p>"Go away, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Who the devil are you calling Sir?" Emily had the Twentieth Century

-girl's freedom of speech and breadth of vocabulary. "It's people like

-you that cause all this modern unrest and industrial strife. I know

-your sort well. Robbers and oppressors. And let me tell you another

-thing...."</p>

-

-<p>At this point the Colonel very injudiciously aimed a kick at Emily.</p>

-

-<p>It was not much of a kick, and it came nowhere near her, but it

-sufficed. Realizing the futility of words, Emily decided on action. And

-it was just as she had got a preliminary grip on the Colonel's left

-trouser leg that John arrived at the Front.</p>

-

-<p>"Emily!!!" roared John, shocked to the core of his being.</p>

-

-<p>He had excellent lungs, and he used them to the last ounce of their

-power. A young man who sees the father of the girl he loves being

-swallowed alive by a Welsh terrier does not spare his voice. The

-word came out of him like the note of the Last Trump, and Colonel

-Wyvern, leaping spasmodically, dropped his bottle of Brophy. It fell

-on the pavement and exploded, and Emily, who could do her bit in a

-rough-and-tumble but barred bombs, tucked her tail between her legs

-and vanished. A faint, sleepy cheering from outside the Carmody Arms

-announced that she had passed that home from home and was going well.</p>

-

-<p>John continued to be agitated. You would not have supposed, to look

-at Colonel Wyvern, that he could have had an attractive daughter, but

-such was the case, and John's manner was as concerned and ingratiating

-as that of most young men in the presence of the fathers of attractive

-daughters.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm so sorry, Colonel. I do hope you're not hurt, Colonel."</p>

-

-<p>The injured man, maintaining an icy silence, raked him with an eye

-before which sergeant-majors had once drooped like withered roses, and

-walked into the shop. The anxious face of Chas. Bywater loomed up over

-the counter. John hovered in the background. "I want another bottle of

-that stuff," said the Colonel shortly.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm awfully sorry," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"I dropped the other outside. I was attacked by a savage dog."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm frightfully sorry."</p>

-

-<p>"People ought not to have these pests running loose and not under

-proper control."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm fearfully sorry."</p>

-

-<p>"A menace to the community and a nuisance to everybody," said Colonel

-Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>Conversation languished. Chas. Bywater, realizing that this was no

-moment for lingering lovingly over brown paper and toying dreamily with

-string, lowered the record for wrapping a bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir by such a margin that he set up a mark for other chemists to

-shoot at for all time. Colonel Wyvern snatched it and stalked out,

-and John, who had opened the door for him and had not been thanked,

-tottered back to the counter and in a low voice expressed a wish for

-two ounces of the Special Mixture.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater. "In one moment, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>With the passing of Colonel Wyvern a cloud seemed to have rolled

-away from the chemist's world. He was his old, charmingly chatty self

-again. He gave John his tobacco, and, detaining him by the simple means

-of not handing over his change, surrendered himself to the joys of

-conversation.</p>

-

-<p>"The Colonel appears a little upset, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you got my change?" said John.</p>

-

-<p>"It seems to me he hasn't been the same man since that unfortunate

-episode up at the Hall. Not at all the same sunny gentleman."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you got my change?"</p>

-

-<p>"A very unfortunate episode, that," sighed Mr. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>"My change?"</p>

-

-<p>"I could see, the moment he walked in here, that he was not himself.

-Shaken. Something in the way he looked at one. I said to myself 'The

-Colonel's shaken!'"</p>

-

-<p>John, who had had such recent experience of the way Colonel Wyvern

-looked at one, agreed. He then asked if he might have his change.</p>

-

-<p>"No doubt he misses Miss Wyvern," said Chas. Bywater, ignoring the

-request with an indulgent smile. "When a man's had a shock like the

-Colonel's had—when he's shaken, if you understand what I mean—he

-likes to have his loved ones around him. Stands to reason," said Mr.

-Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>John had been anxious to leave, but he was so constituted that he could

-not tear himself away from anyone who had touched on the subject of

-Patricia Wyvern. He edged a little nearer the counter.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, she'll be home again soon," said Chas. Bywater. "To-morrow, I

-understand."</p>

-

-<p>A powerful current of electricity seemed to pass itself through John's

-body. Pat Wyvern had been away so long that he had fallen into a sort

-of dull apathy in which he wondered sometimes if he would ever see her

-again.</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir. She returned from France yesterday. She had a good crossing.

-She is at the Lincoln Hotel, Curzon Street, London. She thinks of

-taking the three-o'clock train to-morrow. She is in excellent health."</p>

-

-<p>It did not occur to John to question the accuracy of the other's

-information, nor to be surprised at its minuteness of detail. Mr.

-Bywater, he was aware, had a daughter in the post office.</p>

-

-<p>"To-morrow!" he gasped.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir. To-morrow."</p>

-

-<p>"Give me my change," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He yearned to be off. He wanted air and space in which he could ponder

-over this wonderful news.</p>

-

-<p>"No doubt," said Mr. Bywater, "she...."</p>

-

-<p>"Give me my change," said John.</p>

-

-<p>Chas. Bywater, happening to catch his eye, did so.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>To reach Rudge Hall from the door of Chas. Bywater's shop, you go up

-the High Street, turn sharp to the left down River Lane, cross the

-stone bridge that spans the slow-flowing Skirme as it potters past on

-its way to join the Severn, carry on along the road till you come to

-the gates of Colonel Wyvern's nice little house, and then climb a stile

-and take to the fields. And presently you are in the park and can see

-through the trees the tall chimneys and red walls of the ancient home

-of the Carmodys.</p>

-

-<p>The scene, when they are not touching off dynamite there under the

-noses of retired military officers, is one of quiet peace. For John

-it had always held a peculiar magic. In the fourteen years which had

-passed since the Wyverns had first come to settle in Rudge Pat had

-contrived, so far as he was concerned, to impress her personality

-ineffaceably on the landscape. Almost every inch of it was in some

-way associated with her. Stumps on which she had sat and swung her

-brown-stockinged legs; trees beneath which she had taken shelter with

-him from summer storms; gates on which she had climbed, fields across

-which she had raced, and thorny bushes into which she had urged him to

-penetrate in search of birds' eggs—they met his eye on every side.

-The very air seemed to be alive with her laughter. And not even the

-recollection that that laughter had generally been directed at himself

-was able to diminish for John the glamour of this mile of Fairyland.</p>

-

-<p>Half-way across the park, Emily rejoined him with a defensive,

-Where-on-earth-did-you-disappear-to manner, and they moved on in

-company till they rounded the corner of the house and came to the

-stable yard. John had a couple of rooms over the stables, and thither

-he made his way, leaving Emily to fuss round Bolt, the chauffeur, who

-was washing the Dex-Mayo.</p>

-

-<p>Arrived in his sitting room, he sank into a deck chair and filled his

-pipe with Mr. Bywater's Special Mixture. Then, putting his feet up on

-the table, he stared hard and earnestly at the photograph of Pat which

-stood on the mantelpiece.</p>

-

-<p>It was a pretty face that he was looking at—one whose charm not even

-a fashionable modern photographer, of the type that prefers to depict

-his sitters in a gray fog with most of their features hidden from

-view, could altogether obscure. In the eyes, a little slanting, there

-was a Puck-like look, and the curving lips hinted demurely at amusing

-secrets. The nose had that appealing, yet provocative, air which slight

-tip-tiltedness gives. It seemed to challenge, and at the same time to

-withdraw.</p>

-

-<p>This was the latest of the Pat photographs, and she had given it to him

-three months ago, just before she left to go and stay with friends at

-Le Touquet. And now she was coming home....</p>

-

-<p>John Carroll was one of those solid persons who do not waver in their

-loyalties. He had always been in love with Pat, and he always would

-be, though he would have had to admit that she gave him very little

-encouragement. There had been a period when, he being fifteen and she

-ten, Pat had lavished on him all the worship of a small girl for a big

-boy who can wiggle his ears and is not afraid of cows. But since then

-her attitude had changed. Her manner toward him nowadays alternated

-between that of a nurse toward a child who is not quite right in the

-head and that of the owner of a clumsy but rather likable dog.</p>

-

-<p>Nevertheless, he loved her. And she was coming home....</p>

-

-<p>John sat up suddenly. He was a slow thinker, and only now did it occur

-to him just what the position of affairs would be when she did come

-home. With this infernal feud going on between his uncle Lester and

-the old Colonel she would probably look on him as in the enemy's camp

-and refuse to see or speak to him.</p>

-

-<p>The thought chilled him to the marrow. Something, he felt, must be

-done, and swiftly. And, with a flash of inspiration of a kind that

-rarely came to him, he saw what that something was. He must go up

-to London this afternoon, tell her the facts, and throw himself on

-her clemency. If he could convince her that he was whole-heartedly

-pro-Colonel and regarded his uncle Lester as the logical successor

-to Doctor Crippen and the Brides-in-the-Bath murderer, things might

-straighten themselves.</p>

-

-<p>Once the brain gets working, there is no knowing where it will stop.

-The very next instant there had come to John Carroll a thought so new

-and breathtaking that he uttered an audible gasp.</p>

-

-<p>Why shouldn't he ask Pat to marry him?</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>John sat tingling from head to foot. The scales seemed to have fallen

-from his eyes, and he saw clearly where he might quite conceivably have

-been making a grave blunder all these years. Deeply as he had always

-loved Pat, he had never—now he came to think of it—told her so. And

-in this sort of situation the spoken word is quite apt to make all the

-difference.</p>

-

-<p>Perhaps that was why she laughed at him so frequently—because she was

-entertained by the spectacle of a man, obviously in love with her,

-refraining year after year from making any verbal comment on the state

-of his emotions.</p>

-

-<p>Resolution poured over John in a strengthening flood. He looked at

-his watch. It was nearly three. If he got the two-seater and started

-at once, he could be in London by seven, in nice time to take her to

-dinner somewhere. He hurried down the stairs and out into the stable

-yard.</p>

-

-<p>"Shove that car out of the way, Bolt," said John, eluding Emily, who,

-wet to the last hair, was endeavouring to climb up him. "I want to get

-the two-seater."</p>

-

-<p>"Two-seater, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. I'm going to London."</p>

-

-<p>"It's not there, Mr. John," said the chauffeur, with the gloomy

-satisfaction which he usually reserved for telling his employer that

-the battery had run down.</p>

-

-<p>"Not there? What do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Hugo took it, sir, an hour ago. He told me he was going over to

-see Mr. Carmody at Healthward Ho. Said he had important business and

-knew you wouldn't object."</p>

-

-<p>The stable yard reeled before John. Not for the first time in his life,

-he cursed his light-hearted cousin. "Knew you wouldn't object!" It was

-just the fat-headed sort of thing Hugo would have said.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>There is something about those repellent words, Healthward Ho, that has

-a familiar ring. You feel that you have heard them before. And then you

-remember. They have figured in letters to the daily papers from time to

-time.</p>

-

-

-<p class="ph2">THE STRAIN OF MODERN LIFE</p>

-

-<div class="blockquot">

-

-<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>

-

-<p><i>The Times.</i></p>

-

-<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>

-

-<p>In connection with the recent correspondence in your columns on the

-Strain of Modern Life, I wonder if any of your readers are aware

-that there exists in the county of Worcestershire an establishment

-expressly designed to correct this strain. At Healthward Ho (formerly

-Graveney Court), under the auspices of the well-known American

-physician and physical culture expert, Doctor Alexander Twist, it is

-possible for those who have allowed the demands of modern life to tax

-their physique too greatly to recuperate in ideal surroundings and by

-means of early hours, wholesome exercise, and Spartan fare to build up

-once more their debilitated tissues.</p>

-

-<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>

-

-<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>

-

-Yrs. etc.,<br>

-

-<span class="smcap">Mens Sana in Corpore Sano</span>.</p>

-</div>

-

-<p class="ph2">DO WE EAT TOO MUCH?</p>

-

-<div class="blockquot">

-

-<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>

-

-<p><i>Daily Mail.</i></p>

-

-<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>

-

-<p>The correspondence in your columns on the above subject calls to

-mind a remark made to me not long ago by Doctor Alexander Twist,

-the well-known American physician and physical culture expert.

-"Over-eating," said Doctor Twist emphatically, "is the curse of the

-Age."</p>

-

-<p>At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), his physical culture

-establishment in Worcestershire, wholesale exercise and Spartan fare

-are the order of the day, and Doctor Twist has, I understand, worked

-miracles with the most apparently hopeless cases.</p>

-

-<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>

-

-<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>

-

-Yrs. etc.,<br>

-

-<span class="smcap">Moderation in all Things</span>.</p>

-</div>

-

-

-<p class="ph2">SHOULD THE CHAPERONE BE RESTORED?</p>

-

-<div class="blockquot">

-

-<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>

-

-<p><i>Daily Express.</i></p>

-

-<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>

-

-<p>A far more crying need than that of the Chaperone in these modern days

-is for a Supervisor of the middle-aged man who has allowed himself to

-get "out of shape."</p>

-

-<p>At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), in Worcestershire, where

-Doctor Alexander Twist, the well-known American physician and physical

-culture expert, ministers to such cases, wonders have been achieved by

-means of simple fare and mild, but regular, exercise.</p>

-

-<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>

-

-<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>

-

-Yrs. etc.<br>

-

-<span class="smcap">Vigilant</span>.</p>

-</div>

-

-<p>These letters and many others, though bearing a pleasing variety of

-signatures, proceeded in fact from a single gifted pen—that of Doctor

-Twist himself—and among that class of the public which consistently

-does itself too well when the gong goes and yet is never wholly free

-from wistful aspirations toward a better liver they had created a

-scattered but quite satisfactory interest in Healthward Ho. Clients

-had enrolled themselves on the doctor's books, and now, on this summer

-afternoon, he was enabled to look down from his study window at a group

-of no fewer than eleven of them, skipping with skipping ropes under the

-eye of his able and conscientious assistant, ex-Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>

-

-<p>Sherlock Holmes—and even, on one of his bright days, Doctor

-Watson—could have told at a glance which of those muffled figures was

-Mr. Flannery. He was the only one who went in instead of out at the

-waist-line. All the others were well up in the class of man whom Julius

-Cæsar once expressed a desire to have about him. And pre-eminent among

-them in stoutness, dampness, and general misery was Mr. Lester Carmody,

-of Rudge Hall.</p>

-

-<p>The fact that Mr. Carmody was by several degrees the most

-unhappy-looking member of this little band of martyrs was due to his

-distress, unlike that of his fellow-sufferers, being mental as well as

-physical. He was allowing his mind, for the hundredth time, to dwell on

-the paralyzing cost of these hygienic proceedings.</p>

-

-<p>Thirty guineas a week, thought Mr. Carmody as he bounded up and down.

-Four pound ten a day.... Three shillings and ninepence an hour....

-Three solid farthings a minute.... To meditate on these figures was

-like turning a sword in his heart. For Lester Carmody loved money as he

-loved nothing else in this world except a good dinner.</p>

-

-<p>Doctor Twist turned from the window. A maid had appeared bearing a card

-on a salver.</p>

-

-<p>"Show him in," said Doctor Twist, having examined this. And presently

-there entered a lissom young man in a gray flannel suit.</p>

-

-<p>"Doctor Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

-

-<p>The newcomer seemed a little surprised. It was as if he had been

-expecting something rather more impressive, and was wondering why, if

-the proprietor of Healthward Ho had the ability which he claimed, to

-make New Men for Old, he had not taken the opportunity of effecting

-some alterations in himself. For Doctor Twist was a small man, and

-weedy. He had a snub nose and an expression of furtive slyness. And he

-wore a waxed moustache.</p>

-

-<p>However, all this was not the visitor's business. If a man wishes to

-wax his moustache, it is a matter between himself and his God.</p>

-

-<p>"My name's Carmody," he said. "Hugo Carmody."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. I got your card."</p>

-

-<p>"Could I have a word with my uncle?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure, if you don't mind waiting a minute. Right now," explained Doctor

-Twist, with a gesture toward the window, "he's occupied."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo moved to the window, looked out, and started violently.</p>

-

-<p>"Great Scott!" he exclaimed.</p>

-

-<p>He gaped down at the group below. Mr. Carmody and colleagues

-had now discarded the skipping ropes and were performing some

-unpleasant-looking bending and stretching exercises, holding their

-hands above their heads and swinging painfully from what one may

-loosely term their waists. It was a spectacle well calculated to

-astonish any nephew.</p>

-

-<p>"How long has he got to go on like that?" asked Hugo, awed.</p>

-

-<p>Doctor Twist looked at his watch.</p>

-

-<p>"They'll be quitting soon now. Then a cold shower and rub down, and

-they'll be through till lunch."</p>

-

-<p>"Cold shower?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean to say you make my uncle Lester take cold shower baths?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's right."</p>

-

-<p>"Good God!"</p>

-

-<p>A look of respect came into Hugo's face as he gazed upon this master

-of men. Anybody who, in addition to making him tie himself in knots

-under a blazing sun, could lure Uncle Lester within ten yards of a cold

-shower bath was entitled to credit.</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose after all this," he said, "they do themselves pretty well at

-lunch?"</p>

-

-<p>"They have a lean mutton chop apiece, with green vegetables and dry

-toast."</p>

-

-<p>"Is that all?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's all."</p>

-

-<p>"And to drink?"</p>

-

-<p>"Just water."</p>

-

-<p>"Followed, of course, by a spot of port?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"No port?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly not."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean—literally—no port?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not a drop. If your old man had gone easier on the port, he'd not have

-needed to come to Healthward Ho."</p>

-

-<p>"I say," said Hugo, "did you invent that name?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd ask."</p>

-

-<p>"Say, while I think of it," said Doctor Twist, "have you any

-cigarettes?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, rather." Hugo produced a bulging case. "Turkish this side,

-Virginian that."</p>

-

-<p>"Not for me. I was only going to say that when you meet your uncle just

-bear in mind he isn't allowed tobacco."</p>

-

-<p>"Not allowed...? You mean to say you tie Uncle Lester into a lover's

-knot, shoot him under a cold shower, push a lean chop into him

-accompanied by water, and then don't even let the poor old devil get

-his lips around a single gasper?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's right."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, all I can say is," said Hugo, "it's no life for a refined

-Caucasian."</p>

-

-<p>Dazed by the information he had received, he began to potter aimlessly

-about the room. He was not particularly fond of his uncle. Mr. Carmody

-Senior's practice of giving him no allowance and keeping him imprisoned

-all the year round at Rudge would alone have been enough to check

-anything in the nature of tenderness, but he did not think he deserved

-quite all that seemed to be coming to him at Healthward Ho.</p>

-

-<p>He mused upon his uncle. A complex character. A man with Lester

-Carmody's loathing for expenditure ought by rights to have been a

-simple liver, existing off hot milk and triturated sawdust like an

-American millionaire. That Fate should have given him, together with

-his prudence in money matters, a recklessness as regarded the pleasures

-of the table seemed ironic.</p>

-

-<p>"I see they've quit," said Doctor Twist, with a glance out of the

-window. "If you want to have a word with your uncle you could do it

-now. No bad news, I hope?"</p>

-

-<p>"If there is I'm the one that's going to get it. Between you and me,"

-said Hugo, who had no secrets from his fellow men, "I've come to try to

-touch him for a bit of money."</p>

-

-<p>"Is that so?" said Doctor Twist, interested. Anything to do with money

-always interested the well-known American physician and physical

-culture expert.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Hugo. "Five hundred quid, to be exact."</p>

-

-<p>He spoke a little despondently, for, having arrived at the window

-again, he was in a position now to take a good look at his uncle. And

-so forbidding had bodily toil and mental disturbance rendered the

-latter's expression that he found the fresh young hopes with which he

-had started out on this expedition rapidly ebbing away. If Mr. Carmody

-were to burst—and he looked as if he might do so at any moment—he,

-Hugo, being his nearest of kin, would inherit, but, failing that,

-there seemed to be no cash in sight whatever.</p>

-

-<p>"Though when I say 'touch'," he went on, "I don't mean quite that. The

-stuff is really mine. My father left me a few thousand, you see, but

-most injudiciously made Uncle Lester my trustee, and I'm not allowed to

-get at the capital without the old blighter's consent. And now a pal of

-mine in London has written offering me a half share in a new night club

-which he's starting if I will put up five hundred pounds."</p>

-

-<p>"I see."</p>

-

-<p>"And what I ask myself," said Hugo, "is will Uncle Lester part? That's

-what I ask myself. I can't say I'm betting on it."</p>

-

-<p>"From what I have seen of Mr. Carmody, I shouldn't say that parting was

-the thing he does best."</p>

-

-<p>"He's got absolutely no gift for it whatever," said Hugo gloomily.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I wish you luck," said Doctor Twist. "But don't you try to bribe

-him with cigarettes."</p>

-

-<p>"Do what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Bribe him with cigarettes. After they have been taking the treatment

-for a while, most of these birds would give their soul for a coffin

-nail."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo started. He had not thought of this; but, now that it had been

-called to his attention, he saw that it was most certainly an idea.</p>

-

-<p>"And don't keep him standing around longer than you can help. He ought

-to get under that shower as soon as possible."</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose I couldn't tell him that owing to my pleading and

-persuasion you've consented to let him off a cold shower to-day?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"It would help," urged Hugo. "It might just sway the issue, as it were."</p>

-

-<p>"Sorry. He must have his shower. When a man's been exercising and has

-got himself into a perfect lather of sweat...."</p>

-

-<p>"Keep it clean," said Hugo coldly. "There is no need to stress the

-physical side. Oh, very well, then, I suppose I shall have to trust to

-tact and charm of manner. But I wish to goodness I hadn't got to spring

-business matters on him on top of what seems to have been a slightly

-hectic morning."</p>

-

-<p>He shot his cuffs, pulled down his waistcoat, and walked with a

-resolute step out of the room. He was about to try to get into the ribs

-of a man who for a lifetime had been saving up to be a miser and who,

-even apart from this trait in his character, held the subversive view

-that the less money young men had the better for them. Hugo was a gay

-optimist, cheerful of soul and a mighty singer in the bath tub, but

-he could not feel very sanguine. However, the Carmodys were a bulldog

-breed. He decided to have a pop at it.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Theoretically, no doubt, the process of exercising flaccid muscles,

-opening hermetically sealed pores, and stirring up a liver which had

-long supposed itself off the active list ought to engender in a man

-a jolly sprightliness. In practice, however, this is not always so.

-That Lester Carmody was in no radiant mood was shown at once by the

-expression on his face as he turned in response to Hugo's yodel from

-the rear. In spite of all that Healthward Ho had been doing to Mr.

-Carmody this last ten days, it was plain that he had not yet got that

-Kruschen feeling.</p>

-

-<p>Nor, at the discovery that a nephew whom he had supposed to be twenty

-miles away was standing at his elbow, did anything in the nature of

-sudden joy help to fill him with sweetness and light.</p>

-

-<p>"How the devil did you get here?" were his opening words of welcome.

-His scarlet face vanished for an instant into the folds of a large

-handkerchief; then reappeared, wearing a look of acute concern. "You

-didn't," he quavered, "come in the Dex-Mayo?"</p>

-

-<p>A thought to shake the sturdiest man. It was twenty miles from Rudge

-Hall to Healthward Ho, and twenty miles back again from Healthward Ho

-to Rudge Hall. The Dex-Mayo, that voracious car, consumed a gallon of

-petrol for every ten miles it covered. And for a gallon of petrol they

-extorted from you nowadays the hideous sum of one shilling and sixpence

-halfpenny. Forty miles, accordingly, meant—not including oil, wear and

-tear of engines, and depreciation of tires—a loss to his purse of over

-six shillings—a heavy price to pay for the society of a nephew whom he

-had disliked since boyhood.</p>

-

-<p>"No, no," said Hugo hastily. "I borrowed John's two-seater,"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh," said Mr. Carmody, relieved.</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause, employed by Mr. Carmody in puffing; by Hugo in

-trying to think of something to say that would be soothing, tactful,

-ingratiating, and calculated to bring home the bacon. He turned over in

-his mind one or two conversational gambits.</p>

-

-<p>("Well, Uncle, you look very rosy."</p>

-

-<p>Not quite right.</p>

-

-<p>"I say, Uncle what ho the School-Girl Complexion?"</p>

-

-<p>Absolutely <i>no</i>! The wrong tone altogether.</p>

-

-<p>Ah! That was more like it. "Fit." Yes, that was the word.)</p>

-

-<p>"You look very fit, Uncle," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody's reply to this was to make a noise like a buffalo pulling

-its foot out of a swamp. It might have been intended to be genial, or

-it might not. Hugo could not tell. However, he was a reasonable young

-man, and he quite understood that it would be foolish to expect the

-milk of human kindness instantly to come gushing like a geyser out of

-a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound uncle who had just been doing bending

-and stretching exercises. He must be patient and suave—the Sympathetic

-Nephew.</p>

-

-<p>"I expect it's been pretty tough going, though," he proceeded. "I mean

-to say, all these exercises and cold showers and lean chops and so

-forth. Terribly trying. Very upsetting. A great ordeal. I think it's

-wonderful the way you've stuck it out. Simply wonderful. It's Character

-that does it. That's what it is. Character. Many men would have chucked

-the whole thing up in the first two days."</p>

-

-<p>"So would I," said Mr. Carmody, "only that damned doctor made me give

-him a cheque in advance for the whole course."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo felt damped. He had had some good things to say about Character,

-and it seemed little use producing them now.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, anyway, you look very fit. Very fit indeed. Frightfully fit.

-Remarkably fit. Extraordinarily fit." He paused. This was getting him

-nowhere. He decided to leap straight to the point at issue. To put his

-fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. "I say, Uncle Lester, what

-I really came about this afternoon was a matter of business."</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed? I supposed you had come merely to babble. What business?"</p>

-

-<p>"You know a friend of mine named Fish?"</p>

-

-<p>"I do not know a friend of yours named Fish."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, he's a friend of mine. His name's Fish. Ronnie Fish."</p>

-

-<p>"What about him?"</p>

-

-<p>"He's starting a new night club."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't care," said Mr. Carmody, who did not.</p>

-

-<p>"It's just off Bond Street, in the heart of London's pleasure-seeking

-area. He's calling it the Hot Spot."</p>

-

-<p>The only comment Mr. Carmody vouchsafed on this piece of information

-was a noise like another buffalo. His face was beginning to lose its

-vermilion tinge, and it seemed possible that in a few moments he might

-come off the boil.</p>

-

-<p>"I had a letter from him this morning. He says he will give me a half

-share if I put up five hundred quid."</p>

-

-<p>"Then you won't get a half share," predicted Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"But I've got five hundred. I mean to say, you're holding a lot more

-than that in trust for me."</p>

-

-<p>"Holding," said Mr. Carmody, "is the right word."</p>

-

-<p>"But surely you'll let me have this quite trivial sum for a really

-excellent business venture that simply can't fail? Ronnie knows all

-about night clubs. He's practically lived in them since he came down

-from Cambridge."</p>

-

-<p>"I shall not give you a penny. Have you no conception of the duties of

-a trustee? Trust money has to be invested in gilt-edged securities."</p>

-

-<p>"You'll never find a gilter-edged security than a night club run by

-Ronnie Fish."</p>

-

-<p>"If you have finished this nonsense I will go and take my shower bath."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, look here, Uncle, may I invite Ronnie to Rudge, so that you can

-have a talk with him?"</p>

-

-<p>"You may not. I have no desire to talk with him."</p>

-

-<p>"You'd like Ronnie. He has an aunt in the looney-bin."</p>

-

-<p>"Do you consider that a recommendation?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, I just mentioned it."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I refuse to have him at Rudge."</p>

-

-<p>"But listen, Uncle. The vicar will be round any day now to get me to

-perform at the village concert. If Ronnie were on the spot, he and I

-could do the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i> and really give the

-customers something for their money."</p>

-

-<p>Even this added inducement did not soften Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"I will not invite your friends to Rudge."</p>

-

-<p>"Right ho," said Hugo, a game loser. He was disappointed, but not

-surprised. All along he had felt that that Hot Spot business was merely

-a Utopian dream. There are some men who are temperamentally incapable

-of parting with five hundred pounds, and his uncle Lester was one of

-them. But in the matter of a smaller sum it might be that he would

-prove more pliable, and of this smaller sum Hugo had urgent need.

-"Well, then, putting that aside," he said, "there's another thing I'd

-like to chat about for a moment, if you don't mind."</p>

-

-<p>"I do," said Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"There's a big fight on to-night at the Albert Hall. Eustace Rodd

-and Cyril Warburton are going twenty rounds for the welter-weight

-championship. Have you ever noticed," said Hugo, touching on a matter

-to which he had given some thought, "a rather odd thing about boxers

-these days? A few years ago you never heard of one that wasn't Beefy

-This or Porky That or Young Cat's-meat or something. But now they're

-all Claudes and Harolds and Cuthberts. And when you consider that the

-heavyweight champion of the world is actually named Eugene, it makes

-you think a bit. However, be that as it may, these two birds are going

-twenty rounds to-night, and there you are."</p>

-

-<p>"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is all this drivel?"</p>

-

-<p>He eyed his young relative balefully. In an association that had lasted

-many years, he had found Hugo consistently irritating to his nervous

-system, and he was finding him now rather more trying than usual.</p>

-

-<p>"I only meant to point out that Ronnie Fish has sent me a ticket,

-and I thought that, if you were to spring a tenner for the necessary

-incidental expenses—bed, breakfast, and so on ... well, there I would

-be, don't you know."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean you wish to go to London to see a boxing contest?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's it."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you're not going. You know I have expressly forbidden you to

-visit London. The last time I was weak enough to allow you to go there,

-what happened? You spent the night in a police station."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, but that was Boat-Race Night."</p>

-

-<p>"And I had to pay five pounds for your fine."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo dismissed the past with a gesture.</p>

-

-<p>"The whole thing," he said, "was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and,

-if you ask me, the verdict of posterity will be that the policeman was

-far more to blame than I was. They're letting a bad type of men into

-the force nowadays. I've noticed it on several occasions. Besides, it

-won't happen again."</p>

-

-<p>"You are right. It will not."</p>

-

-<p>"On second thoughts, then, you will spring that tenner?"</p>

-

-<p>"On first, second, third, and fourth thoughts I will do nothing of the

-kind."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Uncle, do you realize what it would mean if you did?"</p>

-

-<p>"The interpretation I would put upon it is that I was suffering from

-senile decay."</p>

-

-<p>"What it would mean is that I should feel you trusted me, Uncle Lester,

-that you had faith in me. There's nothing so dangerous as a want of

-trust. Ask anybody. It saps a young man's character."</p>

-

-<p>"Let it," said Mr. Carmody callously.</p>

-

-<p>"If I went to London, I could see Ronnie Fish and explain all the

-circumstances about my not being able to go into that Hot Spot thing

-with him."</p>

-

-<p>"You can do that by letter."</p>

-

-<p>"It's so hard to put things properly in a letter."</p>

-

-<p>"Then put them improperly," said Mr. Carmody. "Once and for all, you

-are not going to London."</p>

-

-<p>He had started to turn away as the only means possible of concluding

-this interview, when he stopped, spellbound. For Hugo, as was his habit

-when matters had become difficult and required careful thought, was

-pulling out of his pocket a cigarette case.</p>

-

-<p>"Goosh!" said Mr. Carmody, or something that sounded like that.</p>

-

-<p>He made an involuntary motion with his hand, as a starving man will

-make toward bread: and Hugo, with a strong rush of emotion, realized

-that the happy ending had been achieved and that at the eleventh hour

-matters could at last be put on a satisfactory business basis.</p>

-

-<p>"Turkish this side, Virginian that," he said. "You can have the lot for

-ten quid."</p>

-

-<p>"Say, I think you'd best be getting along and taking your shower, Mr.

-Carmody," said the voice of Doctor Twist, who had come up unobserved

-and was standing at his elbow.</p>

-

-<p>The proprietor of Healthward Ho had a rather unpleasant voice, but

-never had it seemed so unpleasant to Mr. Carmody as it did at that

-moment. Parsimonious though he was, he would have given much for the

-privilege of heaving a brick at Doctor Twist. For at the very instant

-of this interruption he had conceived the Machiavellian idea of

-knocking the cigarette case out of Hugo's hand and grabbing what he

-could from the débris: and now this scheme must be abandoned.</p>

-

-<p>With a snort which came from the very depths of an overwrought soul,

-Lester Carmody turned and shuffled off toward the house.</p>

-

-<p>"Say, you shouldn't have done that," said Doctor Twist, waggling a

-reproachful head at Hugo. "No, sir, you shouldn't have done that. Not

-right to tantalize the poor fellow."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo's mind seldom ran on parallel lines with that of his uncle, but it

-was animated now by the identical thought which only a short while back

-Mr. Carmody had so wistfully entertained. He, too, was feeling that

-what Doctor Twist needed was a brick thrown at him. When he was able to

-speak, however, he did not mention this, but kept the conversation on a

-pacific and businesslike note.</p>

-

-<p>"I say," he said, "you couldn't lend me a tenner, could you?"</p>

-

-<p>"I could not," agreed Doctor Twist.</p>

-

-<p>In Hugo's mind the inscrutable problem of why an all-wise Creator

-should have inflicted a man like this on the world deepened.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I'll be pushing along, then," he said moodily.</p>

-

-<p>"Going already?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I am."</p>

-

-<p>"I hope," said Doctor Twist, as he escorted his young guest to his

-car, "you aren't sore at me for calling you down about those student's

-lamps. You see, maybe your uncle was hoping you would slip him one, and

-the disappointment will have made him kind of mad. And part of the

-system here is to have the patients think tranquil thoughts."</p>

-

-<p>"Think what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Tranquil, beautiful thoughts. You see, if your mind's all right, your

-body's all right. That's the way I look at it."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo settled himself at the wheel.</p>

-

-<p>"Let's get this clear," he said. "You expect my uncle Lester to think

-beautiful thoughts?"</p>

-

-<p>"All the time."</p>

-

-<p>"Even under a cold shower?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"God bless you!" said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>He stepped on the self-starter, and urged the two-seater pensively

-down the drive. He was glad when the shrubberies hid him from the view

-of Doctor Twist, for one wanted to forget a fellow like that as soon

-as possible. A moment later, he was still gladder: for, as he turned

-the first corner, there popped out suddenly from a rhododendron bush

-a stout man with a red and streaming face. Lester Carmody had had to

-hurry, and he was not used to running.</p>

-

-<p>"Woof!" he ejaculated, barring the fairway.</p>

-

-<p>Relief flooded over Hugo. The marts of trade had not been closed after

-all.</p>

-

-<p>"Give me those cigarettes!" panted Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>For an instant Hugo toyed with the idea of creating a rising market.

-But he was no profiteer. Hugo Carmody, the Square Dealer.</p>

-

-<p>"Ten quid," he said, "and they're yours."</p>

-

-<p>Agony twisted Mr. Carmody's glowing features.</p>

-

-<p>"Five," he urged.</p>

-

-<p>"Ten," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>"Eight."</p>

-

-<p>"Ten."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody made the great decision.</p>

-

-<p>"Very well. Give me them. Quick."</p>

-

-<p>"Turkish this side, Virginian that," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>The rhododendron bush quivered once more from the passage of a heavy

-body: birds in the neighbouring trees began to sing again their anthems

-of joy: and Hugo, in his trousers pocket two crackling five-pound

-notes, was bowling off along the highway.</p>

-

-<p>Even Doctor Twist could have found nothing to cavil at in the beauty

-of the thoughts he was thinking. He carolled like a linnet in the

-springtime.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h3>

-

-

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," Hugo Carmody was assuring a listening world as he turned

-the two-seater in at the entrance of the stable yard of Rudge Hall some

-thirty minutes later, "that's my baby. No, sir, don't mean maybe. Yes,

-sir, that's my baby now. And, by the way, by the way...."</p>

-

-<p>"Blast you!" said his cousin John, appearing from nowhere. "Get out of

-that car."</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo, John," said Hugo. "So there you are, John. I say, John, I've

-just been paying a call on the head of the family over at Healthward

-Ho. Why they don't run excursion trains of sightseers there is more

-than I can understand. It's worth seeing, believe me. Large, fat men

-doing bending and stretching exercises. Tons of humanity leaping about

-with skipping ropes. Never a dull moment from start to finish, and

-all clean, wholesome fun, mark you, without a taint of vulgarity or

-suggestiveness. Pack some sandwiches and bring the kiddies. And let me

-tell you the best thing of all, John...."</p>

-

-<p>"I can't stop to listen. You've made me late already."</p>

-

-<p>"Late for what?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm going to London."</p>

-

-<p>"You are?" said Hugo, with a smile at the happy coincidence. "So am I.

-You can give me a lift."</p>

-

-<p>"I won't."</p>

-

-<p>"I am certainly not going to run behind."</p>

-

-<p>"You're not going to London."</p>

-

-<p>"You bet I'm going to London."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, go by train, then."</p>

-

-<p>"And break into hard-won cash, every penny of which will be needed for

-the big time in the metropolis? A pretty story!"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, anyway, you aren't coming with me."</p>

-

-<p>"Why not?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't want you."</p>

-

-<p>"John," said Hugo, "there is more in this than meets the eye. You can't

-deceive me. You are going to London for a purpose. What purpose?"</p>

-

-<p>"If you really want to know, I'm going to see Pat."</p>

-

-<p>"What on earth for? She'll be here to-morrow. I looked in at Chas.

-Bywater's this morning for some cigarettes—and, gosh, how lucky it was

-I did!—by the way, he's putting them down to you—and he told me she's

-arriving by the three-o'clock train."</p>

-

-<p>"I know. Well, I happen to want to see her very particularly to-night."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo eyed his cousin narrowly. He was marshalling the facts and drawing

-conclusions.</p>

-

-<p>"John," he said, "this can mean but one thing. You are driving a

-hundred miles in a shaky car—that left front tire wants a spot of

-air. I should look to it before you start, if I were you—to see a

-girl whom you could see to-morrow in any case by the simple process of

-meeting the three-o'clock train. Your state of mind is such that you

-prefer—actually prefer—not to have my company. And, as I look at you,

-I note that you are blushing prettily. I see it all. You've at last

-decided to propose to Pat. Am I right or wrong?"</p>

-

-<p>John drew a deep breath. He was not one of those men who derive

-pleasure from parading their inmost feelings and discussing with others

-the secrets of their hearts. Hugo, in a similar situation, would have

-advertised his love like the hero of a musical comedy; he would have

-made the round of his friends, confiding in them; and, when the supply

-of friends had given out, would have buttonholed the gardener. But

-John was different. To hear his aspirations put into bald words like

-this made him feel as if he were being divested of most of his more

-important garments in a crowded thoroughfare.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, that settles it," said Hugo briskly. "Such being the case, of

-course you must take me along. I will put in a good word for you. Pave

-the way."</p>

-

-<p>"Listen," said John, finding speech. "If you dare to come within twenty

-miles of us...."</p>

-

-<p>"It would be wiser. You know what you're like. Heart of gold but no

-conversation. Try to tackle this on your own and you'll bungle it."</p>

-

-<p>"You keep out of this," said John, speaking in a low, husky voice that

-suggested the urgent need of one of those throat lozenges purveyed by

-Chas. Bywater and so esteemed by the dog Emily. "You keep right out of

-this."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo shrugged his shoulders.</p>

-

-<p>"Just as you please. Hugo Carmody is the last man," he said, a little

-stiffly, "to thrust his assistance on those who do not require same.

-But a word from me would make all the difference, and you know it.

-Rightly or wrongly, Pat has always looked up to me, regarded me as

-a wise elder brother, and, putting it in a nutshell, hung upon my

-lips. I could start you off right. However, since you're so blasted

-independent, carry on, only bear this in mind—when it's all over and

-you are shedding scalding tears of remorse and thinking of what might

-have been, don't come yowling to me for sympathy, because there won't

-be any."</p>

-

-<p>John went upstairs and packed his bag. He packed well and thoroughly.

-This done, he charged down the stairs, and perceived with annoyance

-that Hugo was still inflicting the stable yard with his beastly

-presence.</p>

-

-<p>But Hugo was not there to make jarring conversation. He was present

-now, it appeared, solely in the capacity of Good Angel.</p>

-

-<p>"I've fixed up that tire," said Hugo, "and filled the tank and put in a

-drop of oil and passed an eye over the machinery in general. She ought

-to run nicely now."</p>

-

-<p>John melted. His mood had softened, and he was in a fitter frame of

-mind to remember that he had always been fond of his cousin.</p>

-

-<p>"Thanks. Very good of you. Well, good-bye."</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye," said Hugo. "And heaven speed your wooing, boy."</p>

-

-<p>Freed from the restrictions placed upon a light two-seater by the

-ruts and hillocks of country lanes, John celebrated his arrival on

-the broad main road that led to London by placing a large foot on the

-accelerator and keeping it there. He was behind time, and he intended

-to test a belief which he had long held, that a Widgeon Seven can, if

-pressed, do fifty. To the scenery, singularly beautiful in this part

-of England, he paid no attention. Automatically avoiding wagons by an

-inch and dreamily putting thoughts of the hereafter into the startled

-minds of dogs and chickens, he was out of Worcestershire and into

-Gloucestershire almost before he had really settled in his seat. It

-was only when the long wall that fringes Blenheim Park came into view

-that it was borne in upon him that he would be reaching Oxford in a

-few minutes and could stop for a well-earned cup of tea. He noted with

-satisfaction that he was nicely ahead of the clock.</p>

-

-<p>He drifted past the Martyrs' Memorial, and, picking his way through the

-traffic, drew up at the door of the Clarendon. He alighted stiffly, and

-stretched himself. And as he did so, something caught his attention out

-of the corner of his eye. It was his cousin Hugo, climbing down from

-the dickey.</p>

-

-<p>"A very nice run," said Hugo with satisfaction. "I should say we made

-pretty good time."</p>

-

-<p>He radiated kindliness and satisfaction with all created things. That

-John was looking at him in rather a peculiar way, and apparently trying

-to say something, he did not seem to notice.</p>

-

-<p>"A little refreshment would be delightful," he observed. "Dusty work,

-sitting in dickeys. By the way, I got on to Pat on the 'phone before

-we left, and there's no need to hurry. She's dining out and going to a

-theatre to-night."</p>

-

-<p>"What!" cried John, in agony.</p>

-

-<p>"It's all right. Don't get the wind up. She's meeting us at

-eleven-fifteen at the Mustard Spoon. I'll come on there from the

-fight and we'll have a nice home evening. I'm still a member, so I'll

-sign you in. And, what's more, if all goes well at the Albert Hall

-and Cyril Warburton is half the man I think he is and I can get some

-sporting stranger to bet the other way at reasonable odds, I'll pay the

-bill."</p>

-

-<p>"You're very kind!"</p>

-

-<p>"I try to be, John," said Hugo modestly. "I try to be. I don't think we

-ought to leave it all to the Boy Scouts."</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>A man whose uncle jerks him away from London as if he were picking a

-winkle out of its shell with a pin and keeps him for months and months

-immured in the heart of Worcestershire must inevitably lose touch

-with the swiftly-changing kaleidoscope of metropolitan night-life.

-Nothing in a big city fluctuates more rapidly than the status of its

-supper-dancing clubs; and Hugo, had he still been a lad-about-town in

-good standing, would have been aware that recently the Mustard Spoon

-had gone down a good deal in the social scale. Society had migrated to

-other, newer institutions, leaving it to become the haunt of the lesser

-ornaments of the stage and the Portuguese, the Argentines and the

-Greeks.</p>

-

-<p>To John Carroll, however, as he stood waiting in the lobby, the place

-seemed sufficiently gay and glittering. Nearly a year had passed since

-his last visit to London: and the Mustard Spoon rather impressed him.

-An unseen orchestra was playing with extraordinary vigour, and from

-time to time ornate persons of both sexes drifted past him into the

-brightly lighted supper room. Where an established connoisseur of

-night clubs would have pursed his lips and shaken his head, John was

-conscious only of feeling decidedly uplifted and exhilarated.</p>

-

-<p>But then he was going to see Pat again, and that was enough to

-stimulate any man.</p>

-

-<p>She arrived unexpectedly, at a moment when he had taken his eye off the

-door to direct it in mild astonishment at a lady in an orange dress

-who, doubtless with the best motives, had dyed her hair crimson and was

-wearing a black-rimmed monocle. So absorbed was he with this spectacle

-that he did not see her enter, and was only made aware of her presence

-when there spoke from behind him a clear little voice which, even when

-it was laughing at you, always seemed to have in it something of the

-song of larks on summer mornings and winds whispering across the fields

-in spring.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo, Johnnie."</p>

-

-<p>The hair, scarlet though it was, lost its power to attract. The appeal

-of the monocle waned. John spun round.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!"</p>

-

-<p>She was looking lovelier than ever. That was the thing that first

-presented itself to John's notice. If anybody had told him that Pat

-could possibly be prettier than the image of her which he had been

-carrying about with him all these months, he would not have believed

-him. But so it was. Some sort of a female with plucked eyebrows and

-a painted face had just come in, and she might have been put there

-expressly for purposes of comparison. She made Pat seem so healthy,

-so wholesome, such a thing of the open air and the clean sunshine,

-so pre-eminently fit. She looked as if she had spent her time at Le

-Touquet playing thirty-six holes of golf a day.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!" cried John, and something seemed to catch at his throat. There

-was a mist in front of his eyes. His heart was thumping madly.</p>

-

-<p>She extended her hand composedly. In her this meeting after long

-separation had apparently stirred no depths. Her demeanour was

-friendly, but matter-of-fact.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, Johnnie. How nice to see you again. You're looking very brown

-and rural. Where's Hugo?"</p>

-

-<p>It takes two to hoist a conversation to an emotional peak. John choked,

-and became calmer.</p>

-

-<p>"He'll be here soon, I expect," he said.</p>

-

-<p>Pat laughed indulgently.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo'll be late for his own funeral—if he ever gets to it. He said

-eleven-fifteen and it's twenty-five to twelve. Have you got a table?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not yet."</p>

-

-<p>"Why not?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not a member," said John, and saw in her eyes the scorn which

-women reserve for male friends and relations who show themselves

-wanting in enterprise. "You have to be a member," he said, chafing

-under the look.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't," said Pat with decision. "If you think I'm going to wait all

-night for old Hugo in a small lobby with six draughts whizzing through

-it, correct that impression. Go and find the head waiter and get a

-table while I leave my cloak. Back in a minute."</p>

-

-<p>John's emotions as he approached the head waiter rather resembled

-those with which years ago he had once walked up to a bull in a field,

-Pat having requested him to do so because she wanted to know if bulls

-in fields really are fierce or if the artists who depict them in

-comic papers are simply trying to be funny. He felt embarrassed and

-diffident. The head waiter was a large, stout, smooth-faced man who

-would have been better for a couple of weeks at Healthward Ho, and he

-gave the impression of having disliked John from the start.</p>

-

-<p>John said it was a nice evening. The head waiter did not seem to

-believe him.</p>

-

-<p>"Has—er—has Mr. Carmody booked a table?" asked John.</p>

-

-<p>"No, monsieur."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm meeting him here to-night."</p>

-

-<p>The head waiter appeared uninterested. He began to talk to an underling

-in rapid French. John, feeling more than ever an intruder, took

-advantage of a lull in the conversation to make another attempt.</p>

-

-<p>"I wonder.... Perhaps.... Can you give me a table?"</p>

-

-<p>Most of the head waiter's eyes were concealed by the upper strata of

-his cheeks, but there was enough of them left visible to allow him to

-look at John as if he were something unpleasant that had come to light

-in a portion of salad.</p>

-

-<p>"Monsieur is a member?"</p>

-

-<p>"Er—no."</p>

-

-<p>"If you will please wait in the lobby, thank you."</p>

-

-<p>"But I was wondering...."</p>

-

-<p>"If you will wait in the lobby, please," said the head waiter, and,

-dismissing John from the scheme of things, became gruesomely obsequious

-to an elderly man with diamond studs, no hair, an authoritative

-manner, and a lady in pink. He waddled before them into the supper

-room, and Pat reappeared.</p>

-

-<p>"Got that table?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm afraid not. He says...."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Johnnie, you are maddening. Why are you so helpless?"</p>

-

-<p>Women are unjust in these matters. When a man comes into a night club

-of which he is not a member and asks for a table he feels that he is

-butting in, and naturally is not at his best. This is not helplessness,

-it is fineness of soul. But women won't see that.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm awfully sorry."</p>

-

-<p>The head waiter had returned, and was either doing sums or drawing

-caricatures on a large pad chained to a desk. He seemed so much the

-artist absorbed in his work that John would not have dreamed of

-venturing to interrupt him. Pat had no such delicacy.</p>

-

-<p>"I want a table, please," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"Madame is a member?"</p>

-

-<p>"A table, please. A nice, large one. I like plenty of room. And when

-Mr. Carmody arrives tell him that Miss Wyvern and Mr. Carroll are

-inside."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, madame. Certainly, madame. This way, madame."</p>

-

-<p>Just as simple as that! John, making a physically impressive but

-spiritually negligible tail to the procession, wondered, as he crossed

-the polished floor, how Pat did these things. It was not as if she

-were one of those massive, imperious women whom you would naturally

-expect to quell head waiters with a glance. She was no Cleopatra, no

-Catherine of Russia—just a slim, slight girl with a tip-tilted nose.

-And yet she had taken this formidable magnifico in her stride, kicked

-him lightly in the face, and passed on. He sat down, thrilled with a

-worshipping admiration.</p>

-

-<p>Pat, as always happened after one of her little spurts of irritability,

-was apologetic.</p>

-

-<p>"Sorry I bit your head off, Johnnie," she said. "It was a shame, after

-you had come all this way just to see an old friend. But it makes me so

-angry when you're meek and sheep-y and let people trample on you. Still

-I suppose it's not your fault." She smiled across at him. "You always

-were a slow, good-natured old thing, weren't you, like one of those big

-dogs that come and bump their head on your lap and snuffle. Poor old

-Johnnie!"</p>

-

-<p>John felt depressed. The picture she had conjured up was not a

-flattering one; and, as for this "Poor Old Johnnie!" stuff, it struck

-just the note he most wanted to avoid. If one thing is certain in the

-relations of the sexes, it is that the Poor Old Johnnies of this world

-get nowhere. But before he could put any of these feelings into words

-Pat had changed the subject.</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie," she said, "what's all this trouble between your uncle and

-Father? I had a letter from Father a couple of weeks ago, and as far as

-I could make out Mr. Carmody seems to have been trying to murder him.

-What's it all about?"</p>

-

-<p>Not so eloquently, nor with such a wealth of imagery as Colonel Wyvern

-had employed in sketching out the details of the affair of the dynamite

-outrage for the benefit of Chas. Bywater, Chemist, John answered the

-question.</p>

-

-<p>"Good heavens!" said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"I—I hope...." said John.</p>

-

-<p>"What do you hope?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I—I hope it's not going to make any difference?"</p>

-

-<p>"Difference? How do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"Between us. Between you and me, Pat."</p>

-

-<p>"What sort of difference?"</p>

-

-<p>John had his cue.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat, darling, in all these years we've known one another haven't you

-ever guessed that I've been falling more and more in love with you

-every minute? I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. I loved

-you as a kid in short skirts and a blue jersey. I loved you when you

-came back from that school of yours, looking like a princess. And

-I love you now more than I have ever loved you. I worship you, Pat

-darling. You're the whole world to me, just the one thing that matters

-the least little bit. And don't you try to start laughing at me again

-now, because I've made up my mind that, whatever else you laugh at,

-you've got to take me seriously. I may have been Poor Old Johnnie in

-the past, but the time has come when you've got to forget all that. I

-mean business. You're going to marry me, and the sooner you make up

-your mind to it, the better."</p>

-

-<p>That was what John had intended to say. What he actually did say was

-something briefer and altogether less effective.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I don't know," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Do you mean you're afraid I'm going to stop being friends with you

-just because my father and your uncle have had a quarrel?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said John. It was not quite all he had meant, but it gave the

-general idea.</p>

-

-<p>"What a weird notion! After all these years? Good heavens, no. I'm much

-too fond of you, Johnnie."</p>

-

-<p>Once more John had his cue. And this time he was determined that he

-would not neglect it. He stiffened his courage. He cleared his throat.

-He clutched the tablecloth.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat...."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, there's Hugo at last," she said, looking past him. "And about

-time. I'm starving. Hullo! Who are the people he's got with him? Do you

-know them?"</p>

-

-<p>John heaved a silent sigh. Yes, he could have counted on Hugo arriving

-at just this moment. He turned, and perceived that unnecessary young

-man crossing the floor. With him were a middle-aged man and a younger

-and extremely dashing-looking girl. They were complete strangers to

-John.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Hugo pranced buoyantly up to the table, looking like the Laughing

-Cavalier, clean-shaved.</p>

-

-<p>He was wearing the unmistakable air of a man who has been to a

-welter-weight boxing contest at the Albert Hall and backed the winner.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo, Pat," he said jovially. "Hullo, John. Sorry I'm late. Mitt—if

-that is the word I want—my dear old friend ... I've forgotten your

-name," he added, turning to his companion.</p>

-

-<p>"Molloy, brother. Thomas G. Molloy."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo's dear old friend spoke in a deep, rich voice, well in keeping

-with his appearance. He was a fine, handsome, open-faced person in the

-early forties, with grizzled hair that swept in a wave off a massive

-forehead. His nationality was plainly American, and his aspect vaguely

-senatorial.</p>

-

-<p>"Molloy," said Hugo, "Thomas G. and daughter. This is Miss Wyvern. And

-this is my cousin, Mr. Carroll. And now," said Hugo, relieved at having

-finished with the introductions, "let's try to get a bit of supper."</p>

-

-<p>The service at the Mustard Spoon is not what it was; but by the

-simple process of clutching at the coat tails of a passing waiter and

-holding him till he consented to talk business Hugo contrived to get

-fairly rapid action. Then, after an interval of the rather difficult

-conversation which usually marks the first stages of this sort of

-party, the orchestra burst into a sudden torrent of what it evidently

-mistook for music and Thomas G. Molloy rose and led Miss Molloy out on

-to the floor. He danced a little stiffly, but he knew how to give the

-elbow and he appeared, as the crowd engulfed him, to be holding his own.</p>

-

-<p>"Who are your friends, Hugo?" asked Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"Thos. G...."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I know. But who are they?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, there," said Hugo, "you rather have me. I sat next to Thos. at

-the fight, and I rather took to the fellow. He seemed to me a man full

-of noble qualities, including a looney idea that Eustace Rodd was some

-good as a boxer. He actually offered to give me three to one, and I

-cleaned up substantially at the end of the seventh round. After that, I

-naturally couldn't very well get out of giving the man supper. And as

-he had promised to take his daughter out to-night, I said bring her

-along. You don't mind?"</p>

-

-<p>"Of course not. Though it would have been cosier, just we three."</p>

-

-<p>"Quite true. But never forget that, if it had not been for this Thos.,

-you would not be getting the jolly good supper which I have now ample

-funds to supply. You may look on Thos. as practically the Founder of

-the Feast." He cast a wary eye at his cousin, who was leaning back in

-his chair with the abstracted look of one in deep thought. "Has old

-John said anything to you yet?"</p>

-

-<p>"John? What do you mean? What about?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, things in general. Come and dance this. I want to have a very

-earnest word with you, young Pat. Big things are in the wind."</p>

-

-<p>"You're very mysterious."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah!" said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Left alone at the table with nothing to entertain him but his

-thoughts, John came almost immediately to the conclusion that his

-first verdict on the Mustard Spoon had been an erroneous one. Looking

-at it superficially, he had mistaken it for rather an attractive

-place: but now, with maturer judgment, he saw it for what it was—a

-blot on a great city. It was places like the Mustard Spoon that made

-a man despair of progress. He disliked the clientèle. He disliked the

-head waiter. He disliked the orchestra. The clientèle was flashy and

-offensive and, as regarded the male element of it, far too given to the

-use of hair oil. The head waiter was a fat parasite who needed kicking.

-And, as for Ben Baermann's Collegiate Buddies, he resented the fact

-that they were being paid for making the sort of noises which he,

-when a small boy, had produced—for fun and with no thought of sordid

-gain—on a comb with a bit of tissue paper over it.</p>

-

-<p>He was brooding on the scene in much the same spirit of captious

-criticism as that in which Lot had once regarded the Cities of the

-Plain, when the Collegiate Buddies suddenly suspended their cacophony,

-and he saw Pat and Hugo coming back to the table.</p>

-

-<p>But the Buddies had only been crouching, the better to spring. A moment

-later they were at it again, and Pat, pausing, looked expectantly at

-Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"I've just seen Ronnie Fish up in the balcony," he said. "I positively

-must go and confer with him. I have urgent matters to discuss with the

-old leper. Sit down and talk to John. You've got lots to talk about.

-See you anon. And, if there's anything you want, order it, paying no

-attention whatever to the prices in the right-hand column. Thanks to

-Thos., I'm made of money to-night."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo melted away: Pat sat down: and John, with another abrupt change

-of mood, decided that he had misjudged the Mustard Spoon. A very

-jolly little place, when you looked at it in the proper spirit. Nice

-people, a distinctly lovable head waiter, and as attractive a lot of

-musicians as he remembered ever to have seen. He turned to Pat, to seek

-her confirmation of these views, and, meeting her gaze, experienced a

-rather severe shock. Her eyes seemed to have frozen over. They were

-cold and hard. Taken in conjunction with the fact that her nose turned

-up a little at the end, they gave her face a scornful and contemptuous

-look.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo!" he said, alarmed. "What's the matter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing."</p>

-

-<p>"Why are you looking like that?"</p>

-

-<p>"Like what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well...."</p>

-

-<p>John had little ability as a word painter. He could not on the spur of

-the moment give anything in the nature of detailed description of the

-way Pat was looking. He only knew he did not like it.</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose you expected me to look at you 'with eyes overrunning with

-laughter'?"</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"'Archly the maiden smiled, and with eyes overrunning with laughter

-said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"'"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know what you're talking about."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you know <i>The Courtship of Miles Standish</i>? I thought that

-must have been where you got the idea. I had to learn chunks of it at

-school, and even at that tender age I always thought Miles Standish a

-perfect goop. 'If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed

-me, Why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me? If I

-am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning.' And yards

-more of it. I knew it by heart once. Well, what I want to know is, do

-you expect my answer direct, or would you prefer that I communicated

-with your agent?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't understand."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you? No? Really?"</p>

-

-<p>"Pat, what's the matter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, nothing much. When we were dancing just now, Hugo proposed to me."</p>

-

-<p>A cold hand clutched at John's heart. He had not a high opinion of his

-cousin's fascinations, but the thought of anybody but himself proposing

-to Pat was a revolting one.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, did he?'</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, he did. For you."</p>

-

-<p>"For me? How do you mean, for me?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm telling you. He asked me to marry you. And very eloquent he was,

-too. All the people who heard him—and there must have been dozens who

-did—were much impressed."</p>

-

-<p>She stopped: and, as far as such a thing is possible at the Mustard

-Spoon when Baermann's Collegiate Buddies are giving an encore of "My

-Sweetie Is A Wow," there was silence. Emotion of one sort or another

-had deprived Pat of words: and, as for John, he was feeling as if he

-could never speak again.</p>

-

-<p>He had flushed a dusky red, and his collar had suddenly become so tight

-that he had all the sensations of a man who is being garrotted. And so

-powerfully had the shock of this fearful revelation affected his mind

-that his only coherent thought was a desire to follow Hugo up to the

-balcony, tear him limb from limb, and scatter the fragments onto the

-tables below.</p>

-

-<p>Pat was the first to find speech. She spoke quickly, stormily.</p>

-

-<p>"I can't understand you, Johnnie. You never used to be such a

-jellyfish. You did have a mind of your own once. But now ... I believe

-it's living at Rudge all the time that has done it. You've got lazy

-and flabby. It's turned you into a vegetable. You just loaf about and

-go on and on, year after year, having your three fat meals a day and

-your comfortable rooms and your hot-water bottle at night...."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't!" cried John, stung by this monstrous charge from the coma

-which was gripping him.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, bed socks, then," amended Pat. "You've just let yourself be

-cosseted and pampered and kept in comfort till the You that used to be

-there has withered away and you've gone blah. My dear, good Johnnie,"

-said Pat vehemently, riding over his attempt at speech and glaring at

-him above a small, perky nose whose tip had begun to quiver even as it

-had always done when she lost her temper as a child. "My poor, idiotic,

-flabby, fat-headed Johnnie, do you seriously expect a girl to want to

-marry a man who hasn't the common, elementary pluck to propose to her

-for himself and has to get someone else to do it for him?"</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't!"</p>

-

-<p>"You did."</p>

-

-<p>"I tell you I did not."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean you never asked Hugo to sound me out?"</p>

-

-<p>"Of course not. Hugo is a meddling, officious idiot, and if I'd got him

-here now, I'd wring his neck."</p>

-

-<p>He scowled up at the balcony. Hugo, who happened to be looking down at

-the moment, beamed encouragingly and waved a friendly hand as if to

-assure his cousin that he was with him in spirit. Silence, tempered

-by the low wailing of the Buddy in charge of the saxophone and the

-unpleasant howling of his college friends, who had just begun to sing

-the chorus, fell once more.</p>

-

-<p>"This opens up a new line of thought," said Pat at length. "Our Miss

-Wyvern appears to have got the wires crossed," she looked at him

-meditatively. "It's funny. Hugo seemed so convinced about the way you

-felt."</p>

-

-<p>John's collar tightened up another half inch, but he managed to get his

-vocal chords working.</p>

-

-<p>"He was quite right about the way I felt."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean.... Really?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean you're ... fond of me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Johnnie!"</p>

-

-<p>"Damn it, are you blind?" cried John, savage from shame and the agony

-of harrowed feelings, not to mention a collar which appeared to have

-been made for a man half his size. "Can't you see? Don't you know I've

-always loved you? Yes, even when you were a kid."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" Distress was making Pat's silver

-voice almost squeaky. "You can't have done. I was a horrible kid. I did

-nothing but bully you from morning till night."</p>

-

-<p>"I liked it."</p>

-

-<p>"But how can you want me to marry you? We know each other too well.

-I've always looked on you as a sort of brother."</p>

-

-<p>There are words in the language which are like a knell. Keats

-considered "forlorn" one of them. John Carroll was of opinion that

-"brother" was a second.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I know. I was a fool. I knew you would simply laugh at me."</p>

-

-<p>Pat's eyes were misty. The tip of her nose no longer quivered, but now

-it was her mouth that did so. She reached out across the table and her

-hand rested on his for a brief instant.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not laughing at you, Johnnie, you—you chump. What would I want to

-laugh at you for? I'm much nearer crying. I'd do anything in the world

-rather than hurt you. You must know that. You're the dearest old thing

-that ever lived. There's no one on earth I'm fonder of." She paused.

-"But this ... it—it simply isn't on the board."</p>

-

-<p>She was looking at him, furtively, taking advantage of the fact

-that his face was turned away and his eyes fixed on the broad,

-swallow-tailed back of Mr. Ben Baermann. It was odd, she felt, all very

-odd. If she had been asked to describe the sort of man whom one of

-these days she hoped to marry, the description, curiously enough, would

-not have been at all unlike dear old Johnnie. He had the right clean,

-fit look—she knew she could never give a thought to anything but an

-outdoor man—and the straightness and honesty and kindliness which she

-had come, after moving for some years in a world where they were rare,

-to look upon as the highest of masculine qualities. Nobody could have

-been farther than John from the little, black-moustached dancing-man

-type which was her particular aversion, and yet ... well, the idea of

-becoming his wife was just simply too absurd and that was all there was

-to it.</p>

-

-<p>But why? What, then, was wrong with Johnnie? Simply, she felt, the

-fact that he was Johnnie. Marriage, as she had always envisaged it,

-was an adventure. Poor cosy, solid old Johnnie would have to display

-quite another side of himself, if such a side existed, before she could

-regard it as an adventure to marry him.</p>

-

-<p>"That man," said John, indicating Mr. Baermann, "looks like a Jewish

-black beetle."</p>

-

-<p>Pat was relieved. If by this remark he was indicating that he wished

-the recent episode to be taken as concluded, she was very willing to

-oblige him.</p>

-

-<p>"Doesn't he?" she said. "I don't know where they can have dug him up

-from. The last time I was here, a year ago, they had another band, a

-much better one. I think this place has gone down. I don't like the

-look of some of these people. What do you think of Hugo's friends?"</p>

-

-<p>"They seem all right." John cast a moody eye at Miss Molloy, a

-prismatic vision seen fitfully through the crowd. She was laughing, and

-showing in the process teeth of a flashing whiteness. "The girl's the

-prettiest girl I've seen for a long time."</p>

-

-<p>Pat gave an imperceptible start. She was suddenly aware of a feeling

-which was remarkably like uneasiness. It lurked at the back of her

-consciousness like a small formless cloud.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh!" she said.</p>

-

-<p>Yes, the feeling was uneasiness. Any other man who at such a moment had

-said those words she would have suspected of a desire to pique her, to

-stir her interest by a rather obviously assumed admiration of another.

-But not John. He was much too honest. If Johnnie said a thing, he meant

-it.</p>

-

-<p>A quick flicker of concern passed through Pat. She was always candid

-with herself, and she knew quite well that, though she did not want

-to marry him, she regarded John as essentially a piece of personal

-property. If he had fallen in love with her, that was, of course, a

-pity: but it would, she realized, be considerably more of a pity if he

-ever fell in love with someone else. A Johnnie gone out of her life and

-assimilated into that of another girl would leave a frightful gap. The

-Mustard Spoon was one of those stuffy, overheated places, but, as she

-meditated upon this possibility, Pat shivered.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh!" she said.</p>

-

-<p>The music stopped. The floor emptied. Mr. Molloy and his daughter

-returned to the table. Hugo remained up in the gallery, in earnest

-conversation with his old friend, Mr. Fish.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>Ronald Overbury Fish was a pink-faced young man of small stature and

-extraordinary solemnity. He had been at school with Hugo and also at

-the university. Eton was entitled to point with pride at both of them,

-and only had itself to blame if it failed to do so. The same remark

-applies to Trinity College, Cambridge. From earliest days Hugo had

-always entertained for R. O. Fish an intense and lively admiration,

-and the thought of being compelled to let his old friend down in this

-matter of the Hot Spot was doing much to mar an otherwise jovial

-evening.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm most frightfully sorry, Ronnie, old thing," he said immediately

-the first greetings were over. "I sounded the aged relative this

-afternoon about that business, and there's nothing doing."</p>

-

-<p>"No hope?"</p>

-

-<p>"None."</p>

-

-<p>Ronnie Fish surveyed the dancers below with a grave eye. He removed the

-stub of his cigarette from its eleven-inch holder, and recharged that

-impressive instrument.</p>

-

-<p>"Did you reason with the old pest?"</p>

-

-<p>"You can't reason with my uncle Lester."</p>

-

-<p>"I could," said Mr. Fish.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo did not doubt this. Ronnie, in his opinion, was capable of any

-feat.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, but the only trouble is," he explained, "you would have to do it

-at long range. I asked if I might invite you down to Rudge and he would

-have none of it."</p>

-

-<p>Ronnie Fish relapsed into silence. It seemed to Hugo, watching him,

-that that great brain was busy, but upon what train of thought he could

-not conjecture.</p>

-

-<p>"Who are those people you're with?" he asked at length.</p>

-

-<p>"The big chap with the fair hair is my cousin John. The girl in green

-is Pat Wyvern. She lives near us."</p>

-

-<p>"And the others? Who's the stately looking bird with the brushed-back

-hair who has every appearance of being just about to address a

-gathering of constituents on some important point of policy?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's a fellow named Molloy. Thos. G. I met him at the fight. He's an

-American."</p>

-

-<p>"He looks prosperous."</p>

-

-<p>"He is not so prosperous, though, as he was before the fight started. I

-took thirty quid off him."</p>

-

-<p>"Your uncle, from what you have told me, is pretty keen on rich men,

-isn't he?"</p>

-

-<p>"All over them."</p>

-

-<p>"Then the thing's simple," said Ronnie Fish. "Invite this Mulcahy or

-whatever his name is to Rudge, and invite me at the same time. You'll

-find that in the ecstasy of getting a millionaire on the premises your

-uncle will forget to make a fuss about my coming. And once I am in I

-can talk this business over with him. I'll guarantee that if I can get

-an uninterrupted half hour with the old boy I can easily make him see

-the light."</p>

-

-<p>A rush of admiration for his friend's outstanding brain held Hugo

-silent for a moment. The bold simplicity of the move thrilled him.</p>

-

-<p>"What it amounts to," continued Ronnie Fish, "is that your uncle is

-endeavouring to do you out of a vast fortune. I tell you, the Hot Spot

-is going to be a gold mine. To all practical intents and purposes he is

-just as good as trying to take thousands of pounds out of your pocket.

-I shall point this out to him, and I shall be surprised if I can't put

-the thing through. When would you like me to come down?"</p>

-

-<p>"Ronnie," said Hugo, "this is absolute genius." He hesitated. He

-had no wish to discourage his friend, but he desired to be fair and

-above-board. "There's just one thing. Would you have any objection to

-performing at the village concert?"</p>

-

-<p>"I should enjoy it."</p>

-

-<p>"They're sure to rope you in. I thought you and I might do the Quarrel

-Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i> again."</p>

-

-<p>"Excellent."</p>

-

-<p>"And this time," said Hugo generously, "you can be Brutus."</p>

-

-<p>"No, no," said Ronnie, moved.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Very well. Then fix things up with this American bloke, and leave the

-rest to me. Shall I like your uncle?"</p>

-

-<p>"No," said Hugo confidently.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah well," said Mr. Fish equably, "I don't for a moment suppose he'll

-like me."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>The respite afforded to their patrons' ear drums by the sudden

-cessation of activity on the part of the Buddies proved of brief

-duration. Men like these ex-collegians, who have really got the

-saxophone virus into their systems, seldom have long lucid intervals

-between the attacks. Very soon they were at it again, and Mr. Molloy,

-rising, led Pat gallantly out onto the floor. His daughter, following

-them with a bright eye as she busied herself with a lip stick, laughed

-amusedly.</p>

-

-<p>"She little knows!"</p>

-

-<p>John, like Pat a short while before, had fallen into a train of

-thought. From this he now woke with a start to the realization that he

-was alone with this girl and presumably expected by her to make some

-effort at being entertaining.</p>

-

-<p>"I beg your pardon?" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Even had he been less preoccupied, he would have found small pleasure

-in this tête-à-tête. Miss Molloy—her father addressed her as

-Dolly—belonged to the type of girl in whose society a diffident man

-is seldom completely at ease. There hung about her like an aura a sort

-of hard glitter. Her challenging eyes were of a bright hazel—beautiful

-but intimidating. She looked supremely sure of herself.</p>

-

-<p>"I was saying," she explained, "that your Girl Friend little knows what

-she has taken on, going out to step with Soapy."</p>

-

-<p>"Soapy?"</p>

-

-<p>It seemed to John that his companion had momentarily the appearance of

-being a little confused.</p>

-

-<p>"My father, I mean," she said quickly. "I call him Soapy."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said John. He supposed the practice of calling a father by a

-nickname in preference to the more old-fashioned style of address was

-the latest fad of the Modern Girl.</p>

-

-<p>"Soapy," said Miss Molloy, developing her theme, "is full of Sex

-Appeal, but he has two left feet." She emitted another little gurgle of

-laughter. "There! Would you just look at him now!"</p>

-

-<p>John was sorry to appear dull, but, eyeing Mr. Molloy as requested, he

-could not see that he was doing anything wrong. On the contrary, for

-one past his first youth, the man seemed to him enviably efficient.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm afraid I don't know anything about dancing," he said

-apologetically.</p>

-

-<p>"At that, you're ahead of Soapy. He doesn't even suspect anything.

-Whenever I get into the ring with him and come out alive I reckon I've

-broke even. It isn't so much his dancing on my feet that I mind—it's

-the way he jumps on and off that slays me. Don't you ever hoof?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes. Sometimes. A little."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, come and do your stuff, then. I can't sit still while they're

-playing that thing."</p>

-

-<p>John rose reluctantly. Their brief conversation had made it clear to

-him that in the matter of dancing this was a girl of high ideals, and

-he feared he was about to disappoint her. If she regarded with derision

-a quite adequate performer like Mr. Molloy, she was obviously no

-partner for himself. But there was no means of avoiding the ordeal. He

-backed her out into mid-stream, hoping for the best.</p>

-

-<p>Providence was in a kindly mood. By now the floor had become so

-congested that skill was at a discount. Even the sallow youths with

-the marcelled hair and the india-rubber legs were finding little scope

-to do anything but shuffle. This suited John's individual style. He,

-too, shuffled: and, playing for safety, found that he was getting along

-better than he could have expected. His tension relaxed, and he became

-conversational.</p>

-

-<p>"Do you often come to this place?" he asked, resting his partner

-against the slim back of one of the marcelled-hair brigade who, like

-himself, had been held up in the traffic block.</p>

-

-<p>"I've never been here before. And it'll be a long time before I come

-again. A more gosh-awful aggregation of yells for help, than this gang

-of whippets," said Miss Molloy, surveying the company with a critical

-eye, "I've never seen. Look at that dame with the eyeglass."</p>

-

-<p>"Rather weird," agreed John.</p>

-

-<p>"A cry for succour," said Miss Molloy severely. "And why, when you can

-buy insecticide at any drug store, people let these boys with the shiny

-hair go around loose beats me."</p>

-

-<p>John began to warm to this girl. At first, he had feared that he and

-she could have little in common. But this remark told him that on

-certain subjects, at any rate, they saw eye to eye. He, too, had felt

-an idle wonder that somebody did not do something about these youths.</p>

-

-<p>The Buddies had stopped playing: and John, glowing with the strange

-new spirit of confidence which had come to him, clapped loudly for an

-encore.</p>

-

-<p>But the Buddies were not responsive. Hitherto, a mere tapping of the

-palms had been enough to urge them to renewed epileptic spasms; but now

-an odd lethargy seemed to be upon them, as if they had been taking some

-kind of treatment for their complaint. They were sitting, instruments

-in hand, gazing in a spellbound manner at a square-jawed person in

-ill-fitting dress clothes who had appeared at the side of Mr. Baermann.

-And the next moment, there shattered the stillness a sudden voice that

-breathed Vine Street in every syllable.</p>

-

-<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice, proceeding, as nearly as John

-could ascertain, from close to the main entrance, "will you kindly take

-your seats."</p>

-

-<p>"Pinched!" breathed Miss Molloy in his ear. "Couldn't you have betted

-on it!"</p>

-

-<p>Her diagnosis was plainly correct. In response to the request, most of

-those on the floor had returned to their tables, moving with the dull

-resignation of people to whom this sort of thing has happened before:

-and, enjoying now a wider range of vision, John was able to see that

-the room had become magically filled with replicas of the sturdy figure

-standing beside Mr. Baermann. They were moving about among the tables,

-examining with an offensive interest the bottles that stood thereon and

-jotting down epigrams on the subject in little notebooks. Time flies

-on swift wings in a haunt of pleasure like the Mustard Spoon, and it

-was evident that the management, having forgotten to look at its watch,

-had committed the amiable error of serving alcoholic refreshments after

-prohibited hours.</p>

-

-<p>"I might have known," said Miss Molloy querulously, "that something of

-the sort was bound to break loose in a dump like this."</p>

-

-<p>John, like all dwellers in the country as opposed to the wicked

-inhabitants of cities, was a law-abiding man. Left to himself, he would

-have followed the crowd and made for his table, there to give his name

-and address in the sheepish undertone customary on these occasions. But

-he was not left to himself. A moment later it had become plain that the

-dashing exterior of Miss Molloy was a true index to the soul within.

-She grasped his arm and pulled him commandingly.</p>

-

-<p>"Snap into it!" said Miss Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>The "it" into which she desired him to snap was apparently a small

-door that led to the club's service quarters. It was the one strategic

-point not yet guarded by a stocky figure with large feet and an eye

-like a gimlet. To it his companion went like a homing rabbit, dragging

-him with her. They passed through; and John, with a resourcefulness of

-which he was surprised to find himself capable, turned the key in the

-lock.</p>

-

-<p>"Smooth!" said Miss Molloy approvingly. "Nice work! That'll hold them

-for a while."</p>

-

-<p>It did. From the other side of the door there proceeded a confused

-shouting, and somebody twisted the handle with a good deal of

-petulance, but the Law had apparently forgotten to bring its axe with

-it to-night, and nothing further occurred. They made their way down a

-stuffy passage, came presently to a second door, and, passing through

-this, found themselves in a backyard, fragrant with the scent of old

-cabbage stalks and dish water.</p>

-

-<p>Miss Molloy listened. John listened. They could hear nothing but a

-distant squealing and tooting of horns, which, though it sounded like

-something out of the repertoire of the Collegiate Buddies, was in

-reality the noise of the traffic in Regent Street.</p>

-

-<p>"All quiet along the Potomac," said Miss Molloy with satisfaction.

-"Now," she added briskly, "if you'll just fetch one of those ash cans

-and put it alongside that wall and give me a leg-up and help me round

-that chimney and across that roof and down into the next yard and over

-another wall or two, I think everything will be more or less jake."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">V</p>

-

-<p>John sat in the lobby of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street. A lifetime

-of activity and dizzy hustle had passed, but it had all been crammed

-into just under twenty minutes, and, after seeing his fair companion

-off in a taxicab, he had made his way to the Lincoln, to ascertain from

-a sleepy night porter that Miss Wyvern had not yet returned. He was now

-awaiting her coming.</p>

-

-<p>She came some little while later, escorted by Hugo. It was a fair

-summer night, warm and still, but with her arrival a keen east wind

-seemed to pervade the lobby. Pat was looking pale and proud, and Hugo's

-usually effervescent demeanour had become toned down to a sort of

-mellow sadness. He had the appearance of a man who has recently been

-properly ticked off by a woman for Taking Me to Places Like That.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, hullo, John," he murmured in a low, bedside voice. He brightened

-a little, as a man will who, after a bad quarter of an hour with an

-emotional girl, sees somebody who may possibly furnish an alternative

-target for her wrath. "Where did you get to? Left early to avoid the

-rush?"</p>

-

-<p>"It was this way ..." began John. But Pat had turned to the desk, and

-was asking the porter for her key. If a female martyr in the rougher

-days of the Roman Empire had had occasion to ask for a key, she would

-have done it in just the voice which Pat employed. It was not a loud

-voice, nor an angry one,—just the crushed, tortured voice of a girl

-who has lost her faith in the essential goodness of humanity.</p>

-

-<p>"You see ..." said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Are there any letters for me?" asked Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"No, no letters," said the night porter; and the unhappy girl gave a

-little sigh, as if that was just what might be expected in a world

-where men who had known you all your life took you to Places which

-they ought to have Seen from the start were just Drinking-Hells, while

-other men, who also had known you all your life, and, what was more,

-professed to love you, skipped through doors in the company of flashy

-women and left you to be treated by the police as if you were a common

-criminal.</p>

-

-<p>"What happened," said John, "was this...."</p>

-

-<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>She followed the porter to the lift, and Hugo, producing a

-handkerchief, dabbed it lightly over his forehead.</p>

-

-<p>"Dirty weather, shipmate!" said Hugo. "A very deep depression off the

-coast of Iceland, laddie."</p>

-

-<p>He placed a restraining hand on John's arm, as the latter made a

-movement to follow the Snow Queen.</p>

-

-<p>"No good, John," he said gravely. "No good, old man, not the slightest.

-Don't waste your time trying to explain to-night. Hell hath no fury

-like a woman scorned, and not many like a girl who's just had to give

-her name and address in a raided night club to a plain-clothes cop who

-asked her to repeat it twice and then didn't seem to believe her."</p>

-

-<p>"But I want to tell her why...."</p>

-

-<p>"Never tell them why. It's no use. Let us talk of pleasanter things.

-John, I have brought off the coup of a lifetime. Not that it was my

-idea. It was Ronnie Fish who suggested it. There's a fellow with a

-brain, John. There's a lad who busts the seams of any hat that isn't a

-number eight."</p>

-

-<p>"What are you talking about?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm talking about this amazingly intelligent idea of old Ronnie's.

-It's absolutely necessary that by some means Uncle Lester shall be

-persuaded to cough up five hundred quid of my capital to enable me to

-go into a venture second in solidity only to the Mint. The one person

-who can talk him into it is Ronnie. So Ronnie's coming to Rudge."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said John, uninterested.</p>

-

-<p>"And to prevent Uncle Lester making a fuss about this, I've invited old

-man Molloy and daughter to come and visit us as well. That was Ronnie's

-big idea. Thos. is rolling in money, and, once Uncle Lester learns

-that, he won't kick about Ronnie being there. He loves having rich men

-around. He likes to nuzzle them."</p>

-

-<p>"Do you mean," cried John, "that that girl is coming to stay at Rudge?"</p>

-

-<p>He was appalled. Limpidly clear though his conscience was, he was able

-to see that his rather spectacular association with Miss Dolly Molloy

-had displeased Pat, and the last thing he wished for was to be placed

-in a position which was virtually tantamount to hobnobbing with the

-girl. If she came to stay at Rudge, Pat might think.... What might not

-Pat think?</p>

-

-<p>He became aware that Hugo was speaking to him in a quiet, brotherly

-voice.</p>

-

-<p>"How did all that come out, John?"</p>

-

-<p>"All what?"</p>

-

-<p>"About Pat. Did she tell you that I paved the way?"</p>

-

-<p>"She did! And look here...."</p>

-

-<p>"All right, old man," said Hugo, raising a deprecatory hand. "That's

-absolutely all right. I don't want any thanks. You'd have done the same

-for me. Well, what has happened? Everything pretty satisfactory?"</p>

-

-<p>"Satisfactory!"</p>

-

-<p>"Don't tell me she turned you down?"</p>

-

-<p>"If you really want to know, yes, she did."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo sighed.</p>

-

-<p>"I feared as much. There was something about her manner when I was

-paving the way that I didn't quite like. Cold. Not responsive. A

-bit glassy-eyed. What an amazing thing it is," said Hugo, tapping a

-philosophical vein, "that in spite of all the ways there are of saying

-Yes, a girl on an occasion like this nearly always says No. An American

-statistician has estimated that, omitting substitutes like 'All right,'

-'You bet,' 'O.K.,' and nasal expressions like 'Uh-huh,' the English

-language provides nearly fifty different methods of replying in the

-affirmative, including Yeah, Yeth, Yum, Yo, Yaw, Chess, Chass, Chuss,

-Yip, Yep, Yop, Yup, Yurp...."</p>

-

-<p>"Stop it!" cried John forcefully.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo patted him affectionately on the shoulder.</p>

-

-<p>"All right, John. All right, old man. I quite understand. You're upset.

-A little on edge, yes? Of course you are. But listen, John, I want to

-talk to you very seriously for a moment, in a broad-minded spirit of

-cousinly good will. If I were you, laddie, I would take myself firmly

-in hand at this juncture. You must see for yourself by now that you're

-simply wasting your time fooling about after dear old Pat. A sweet

-girl, I grant you—one of the best: but if she won't have you she

-won't, and that's that. Isn't it or is it? Take my tip and wash the

-whole thing out and start looking round for someone else. Now, there's

-Miss Molloy, for instance. Pretty. Pots of money. If I were you, while

-she's at Rudge, I'd have a decided pop at her. You see, you're one of

-those fellows that Nature intended for a married man right from the

-start. You're a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap that likes

-to roll the garden lawn and then put on his slippers and light a pipe

-and sit side by side with the little woman, sharing a twin set of head

-phones. Pull up your socks, John, and have a dash at this Molloy girl.

-You'd be on velvet with a rich wife."</p>

-

-<p>At several points during this harangue John had endeavoured to speak,

-and he was just about to do so now, when there occurred that which

-rendered speech impossible. From immediately behind them, as they stood

-facing the door, a voice spoke.</p>

-

-<p>"I want my bag, Hugo."</p>

-

-<p>It was Pat. She was standing within a yard of them. Her face was still

-that of a martyr, but now she seemed to suggest by her expression a

-martyr whose tormentors have suddenly thought up something new.</p>

-

-<p>"You've got my bag," she said.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, ah," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>He handed over the beaded trifle, and she took it with a cold

-aloofness. There was a pause.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, good night," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"Good night," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>She turned away, and the lift bore her aloft. Its machinery badly

-needed a drop of oil, and it emitted, as it went, a low wailing sound

-that seemed to John like a commentary on the whole situation.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">VI</p>

-

-<p>Some half a mile from Curzon Street, on the fringe of the Soho

-district, there stands a smaller and humbler hotel named the Belvidere.

-In a bedroom on the second floor of this, at about the moment when Pat

-and Hugo had entered the lobby of the Lincoln, Dolly Molloy sat before

-a mirror, cold-creaming her attractive face. She was interrupted in

-this task by the arrival of the senatorial Thomas G.</p>

-

-<p>"Hello, sweetie-pie," said Miss Molloy. "There you are."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," replied Mr. Molloy. "Here I am."</p>

-

-<p>Although his demeanour lacked the high tragedy which had made strong

-men quail in the presence of Pat Wyvern, this man was plainly ruffled.

-His fine features were overcast and his frank gray eyes looked sombre.</p>

-

-<p>"Gee! If there's one thing in this world I hate," he said, "it's having

-to talk to policemen."</p>

-

-<p>"What happened?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I gave my name and address. <i>A</i> name and address, that is to say.

-But I haven't got over yet the jar it gave me seeing so many cops all

-gathered together in a small room. And that's not all," went on Mr.

-Molloy, ventilating another grievance. "Why did you make me tell those

-folks you were my daughter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, sweetie, it sort of cramps my style, having people know we're

-married."</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean, cramps your style?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, just cramps my style."</p>

-

-<p>"But, darn it," complained Mr. Molloy, going to the heart of the

-matter, "it makes me out so old, folks thinking I'm your father." The

-rather pronounced gap in years between himself and his young bride was

-a subject on which Soapy Molloy was always inclined to be sensitive.

-"I'm only forty-two."</p>

-

-<p>"And you don't seem that, not till you look at you close," said Dolly

-with womanly tact. "The whole thing is, sweetie, being so dignified,

-you can call yourself anybody's father and get away with it."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy, somewhat soothed, examined himself, not without approval,

-in the mirror.</p>

-

-<p>"I do look dignified," he admitted.</p>

-

-<p>"Like a professor or something."</p>

-

-<p>"That isn't a bald spot coming there, is it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure it's not. It's just the way the light falls."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy resumed his examination with growing content.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," he said complacently, "that's a face which for business purposes

-is a face. I may not be the World's Sweetheart, but nobody can say I

-haven't got a map that inspires confidence. I suppose I've sold more

-bum oil stock to suckers with it than anyone in the profession. And

-that reminds me, honey, what do you think?"</p>

-

-<p>"What?" asked Mrs. Molloy, removing cream with a towel.</p>

-

-<p>"We're sitting in the biggest kind of luck. You know how I've been

-wanting all this time to get hold of a really good prospect—some guy

-with money to spend who might be interested in a little oil deal?

-Well, that Carmody fellow we met to-night has invited us to go and

-visit at his country home."</p>

-

-<p>"You don't say!"</p>

-

-<p>"I do say!"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, isn't that the greatest thing. Is he rich?"</p>

-

-<p>"He's got an uncle that must be, or he couldn't be living in a place

-like he was telling me. It's one of those stately homes of England you

-read about."</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Molloy mused. The soft smile on her face showed that her day

-dreams were pleasant ones.</p>

-

-<p>"I'll have to get me some new frocks ... and hats ... and shoes ... and

-stockings ... and ..."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, now, now!" said her husband, with that anxious alarm which

-husbands exhibit on these occasions. "Be yourself, baby! You aren't

-going to stay at Buckingham Palace."</p>

-

-<p>"But a country-house party with swell people...."</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't a country-house party. There's only the uncle besides those

-two boys we met to-night. But I'll tell you what. If I can plant a good

-block of those Silver River shares on the old man, you can go shopping

-all you want."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Soapy! Do you think you can?"</p>

-

-<p>"Do I think I can?" echoed Mr. Molloy scornfully. "I don't say I've

-ever sold Central Park or Brooklyn Bridge to anybody, but if I can't

-get rid of a parcel of home-made oil stock to a guy that lives in the

-country I'm losing my grip and ought to retire. Sure, I'll sell him

-those Silver Rivers, honey. These fellows that own these big estates in

-England are only glorified farmers when you come right down to it, and

-a farmer will buy anything you offer him, just so long as it's nicely

-engraved and shines when you slant the light on it."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Soapy...."</p>

-

-<p>"Now what?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've been thinking. Listen, Soapy. A home like this one where we're

-going is sure to have all sorts of things in it, isn't it? Pictures, I

-mean, and silver and antiques and all like that. Well, why can't we,

-once we're in the place, get away with them and make a nice clean-up?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy, though conceding that this was the right spirit, was

-obliged to discourage his wife's pretty enthusiasm.</p>

-

-<p>"Where could you sell that sort of stuff?"</p>

-

-<p>"Anywhere, once you got it over to the other side. New York's full of

-rich millionaires who'll buy anything and ask no questions, just so

-long as it's antiques."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"Too dangerous, baby. If all that stuff left the house same time as we

-did, we'd have the bulls after us in ten minutes. Besides, it's not in

-my line. I've got my line, and I like to stick to it. Nobody ever got

-anywhere in the long run by going outside of his line."</p>

-

-<p>"Maybe you're right."</p>

-

-<p>"Sure I'm right. A nice conservative business, that's what I aim at."</p>

-

-<p>"But suppose when we get to this joint it looks dead easy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Ah! Well then, I'm not saying. All I'm against is risks. If

-something's handed to you on a plate, naturally no one wouldn't ever

-want to let it get past them."</p>

-

-<p>And with this eminently sound commercial maxim Mr. Molloy reached for

-his pyjamas and prepared for bed. Something attempted, something done,

-had earned, he felt, a night's repose.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>Some years before the date of the events narrated in this story, at

-the time when there was all that trouble between the aristocratic

-householders of Riverside Row and the humbler dwellers in Budd Street

-(arising, if you remember, from the practice of the latter of washing

-their more intimate articles of underclothing and hanging them to dry

-in back gardens into which their exclusive neighbours were compelled to

-gaze every time they looked out of windows), the vicar of the parish,

-the Rev. Alistair Pond-Pond, always a happy phrase-maker, wound up his

-address at the annual village sports of Rudge with an impressive appeal

-to the good feeling of those concerned.</p>

-

-<p>"We must not," said the Reverend Alistair, "consider ourselves as

-belonging to this section of Rudge-in-the-Vale or to that section of

-Rudge-in-the-Vale. Let us get together. Let us recollect that we are

-all fellow-members of one united community. Rudge must be looked on as

-a whole. And what a whole it is!"</p>

-

-<p>With the concluding words of this peroration Pat Wyvern, by the time

-she had been home a little under a week, found herself in hearty

-agreement. Walking with her father along High Street on the sixth

-morning, she had to confess herself disappointed with Rudge.</p>

-

-<p>There are times in everyone's experience when Life, after running

-merrily for a while through pleasant places, seems suddenly to strike

-a dull and depressing patch of road: and this was what was happening

-now to Pat. The sense, which had come to her so strongly in the lobby

-of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street, of being in a world unworthy

-of her—a world cold and unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade

-of human being, had deepened. Her home-coming, she had now definitely

-decided, was not a success.</p>

-

-<p>Elderly men with a grievance are seldom entertaining companions for

-the young, and five days of the undiluted society of Colonel Wyvern

-had left Pat with the feeling that, much as she loved her father, she

-wished he would sometimes change the subject of his conversation. Had

-she been present in person she could not have had a fuller grasp of the

-facts of that dynamite outrage than she now possessed.</p>

-

-<p>But this was not all. After Mr. Carmody's thug-like behaviour on that

-fatal day, she was given to understand, the Hall and its grounds were

-as much forbidden territory to her as the piazza of the townhouse of

-the Capulets would have been to a young Montague. And, though, being a

-modern girl, she did not as a rule respond with any great alacrity to

-parental mandates, she had her share of clan loyalty and realized that

-she must conform to the rules of the game.</p>

-

-<p>Accordingly she had not been within half a mile of the Hall since her

-arrival, and, having been accustomed for fourteen years to treat the

-place and its grounds as her private property, found Rudge, with a

-deadline drawn across the boundaries of Mr. Carmody's park, a poor sort

-of place. Unlovable character though Mr. Carmody was in many respects,

-she had always been fond of him, and she missed seeing him. She also

-missed seeing Hugo. And, as for John, not seeing him was the heaviest

-blow of all.</p>

-

-<p>From the days of her childhood, John had always been her stand-by.

-Men might come and men might go, but John went on for ever. He had

-never been too old, like Mr. Carmody, or too lazy, like Hugo, to give

-her all the time and attention she required, and she did think that,

-even though there was this absurd feud going on, he might have had

-the enterprise to make an opportunity of meeting her. As day followed

-day her resentment grew, until now she had reached the stage when she

-was telling herself that this was simply what from a knowledge of

-his character she might have expected. John—she had to face it—was

-a jellyfish. And if a man is a jellyfish, he will behave like a

-jellyfish, and it is at times of crisis that his jellyfishiness will be

-most noticeable.</p>

-

-<p>It was conscience that had brought Pat to the High Street this morning.

-Her father had welcomed her with such a pathetic eagerness, and had

-been so plainly pleased to see her back that she was ashamed of herself

-for not feeling happier. And it was in a spirit of remorse that now,

-though she would have preferred to stay in the garden with a book, she

-had come with him to watch him buy another bottle of Brophy's Paramount

-Elixir from Chas. Bywater, Chemist.</p>

-

-<p>Brophy, it should be mentioned, had proved a sensational success. His

-Elixir was making the local gnats feel perfect fools. They would bite

-Colonel Wyvern on the face and stand back, all ready to laugh, and he

-would just smear Brophy on himself and be as good as new. It was simply

-sickening, if you were a gnat; but fine, of course, if you were Colonel

-Wyvern, and that just man, always ready to give praise where praise was

-due, said as much to Chas. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>"That stuff," said Colonel Wyvern, "is good. I wish I'd heard of it

-before. Give me another bottle."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Bywater was delighted—not merely at this rush of trade, but

-because, good kindly soul, he enjoyed ameliorating the lot of others.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought you would find it capital, Colonel. I get a great many

-requests for it. I sold a bottle yesterday to Mr. Carmody, senior."</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern's sunniness vanished as if someone had turned it off

-with a tap.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't talk to me about Mr. Carmody," he said gruffly.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Chas. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>Pat bridged a painful silence.</p>

-

-<p>"Is Mr. Carmody back, then?" she asked. "I heard he was at some sort of

-health place."</p>

-

-<p>"Healthward Ho, miss, just outside Lowick."</p>

-

-<p>"He ought to be in prison," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Bywater stopped himself in the nick of time from saying "Quite,"

-which would have been a deviation from his firm policy of never taking

-sides between customers.</p>

-

-<p>"He returned the day before yesterday, miss, and was immediately bitten

-on the nose by a mosquito."</p>

-

-<p>"Thank God!" said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>"But I sold him one of the three-and-sixpenny size of the Elixir,"

-said Chas. Bywater, with quiet pride, "and a single application

-completely eased the pain."</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern said he was sorry to hear it, and there is no doubt that

-conversation would once more have become difficult had there not at

-this moment made itself heard from the other side of the door a loud

-and penetrating sniff.</p>

-

-<p>A fatherly smile lit up Chas. Bywater's face.</p>

-

-<p>"That's Mr. John's dog," he said, reaching for the cough drops.</p>

-

-<p>Pat opened the door and the statement was proved correct. With a short

-wooffle, partly of annoyance at having been kept waiting and partly of

-happy anticipation, Emily entered, and seating herself by the counter,

-gazed expectantly at the chemist.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo, Emily," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>Emily gave her a brief look in which there was no pleased recognition,

-but only the annoyance of a dog interrupted during an important

-conference. She then returned her gaze to Mr. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>"What do you say, doggie?" said Mr. Bywater, more paternal than ever,

-poising a cough drop.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Hell! Snap into it!" replied Emily curtly, impatient at this

-foolery.</p>

-

-<p>"Hear her speak for it?" said Mr. Bywater. "Almost human, that dog is."</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern, whom he had addressed, did not seem to share his lively

-satisfaction. He muttered to himself. He regarded Emily sourly, and his

-right foot twitched a little.</p>

-

-<p>"Just like a human being, isn't she, miss?" said Chas. Bywater, damped

-but persevering.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," said Pat absently.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Bywater, startled by this infringement of copyright, dropped the

-cough lozenge and Emily snapped it up.</p>

-

-<p>Pat, still distraite, was watching the door. She was surprised to find

-that her breath was coming rather quickly and that her heart had begun

-to beat with more than its usual rapidity. She was amazed at herself.

-Just because John Carroll would shortly appear in that doorway must

-she stand fluttering, for all the world as though poor old Johnnie, an

-admitted jellyfish, were something that really mattered? It was too

-silly, and she tried to bully herself into composure. She failed. Her

-heart, she was compelled to realize, was now simply racing.</p>

-

-<p>A step sounded outside, a shadow fell on the sunlit pavement, and Dolly

-Molloy walked into the shop.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>It is curious, when one reflects, to think how many different

-impressions a single individual can make simultaneously on a number

-of his or her fellow-creatures. At the present moment it was almost

-as though four separate and distinct Dolly Molloys had entered the

-establishment of Chas. Bywater.</p>

-

-<p>The Dolly whom Colonel Wyvern beheld was a beautiful woman with just

-that hint of diablerie in her bearing which makes elderly widowers feel

-that there is life in the old dog yet. Colonel Wyvern was no longer

-the dashing Hussar who in the 'nineties had made his presence felt in

-many a dim sitting-out place and in many a punt beneath the willows

-of the Thames, but there still lingered in him a trace of the old

-barrack-room fire. Drawing himself up, he automatically twirled his

-moustache. To Colonel Wyvern Dolly represented Beauty.</p>

-

-<p>To Chas. Bywater, with his more practical and worldly outlook, she

-represented Wealth. He saw in Dolly not so much a beautiful woman

-as a rich-looking woman. Although Soapy had contrived, with subtle

-reasoning, to head her off from the extensive purchases which she

-had contemplated making in preparation for her visit to Rudge, Dolly

-undoubtedly took the eye. She was, as she would have put it herself, a

-snappy dresser, and in Chas. Bywater's mind she awoke roseate visions

-of large orders for face creams, imported scents and expensive bath

-salts.</p>

-

-<p>Emily, it was evident, regarded Mrs. Molloy as Perfection. A dog who,

-as a rule, kept herself to herself and looked on the world with a cool

-and rather sardonic eye, she had conceived for Dolly the moment they

-met one of those capricious adorations which come occasionally to the

-most hard-boiled Welsh terriers. Hastily swallowing her cough drop, she

-bounded at Dolly and fawned on her.</p>

-

-<p>So far, the reactions caused by the newcomer's entrance have been

-unmixedly favourable. It is only when we come to Pat that we find

-Disapproval rearing its ugly head.</p>

-

-<p>"Disapproval," indeed, is a mild and inadequate word. "Loathing" would

-be more correct. Where Colonel Wyvern beheld beauty and Mr. Bywater

-opulence, Pat saw only flashiness, vulgarity, and general horribleness.

-Piercing with woman's intuitive eye through an outer crust which to

-vapid and irreflective males might possibly seem attractive, she saw

-Dolly as a vampire and a menace—the sort of woman who goes about

-the place ensnaring miserable fat-headed innocent young men who have

-lived all their lives in the country and so lack the experience to see

-through females of her type.</p>

-

-<p>For beyond a question, felt Pat, this girl must have come to Rudge in

-brazen pursuit of poor old Johnnie. The fact that she took her walks

-abroad accompanied by Emily showed that she was staying at the Hall;

-and what reason could she have had for getting herself invited to the

-Hall if not that she wished to continue the acquaintance begun at the

-Mustard Spoon? This, then, was the explanation of John's failure to

-come and pass the time of day with an old friend. What she had assumed

-to be jellyfishiness was in reality base treachery. Like Emily, whom,

-slavering over Mrs. Molloy's shoes, she could gladly have kicked, he

-had been hypnotized by this woman's specious glamour and had forsaken

-old allegiances.</p>

-

-<p>Pat, eyeing Dolly coldly, was filled with a sisterly desire to save

-John from one who could never make him happy.</p>

-

-<p>Dolly was all friendliness.</p>

-

-<p>"Why, hello," she said, removing a shapely foot from Emily's mouth, "I

-was wondering when I was going to run into you. I heard you lived in

-these parts."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?" said Pat frigidly.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm staying at the Hall."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>"What a wonderful old place it is."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"All those pictures and tapestries and things."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Is this your father?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. This is Miss Molloy, Father. We met in London."</p>

-

-<p>"Pleased to meet you," said Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>"Charmed," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>He gave another twirl of his moustache. Chas. Bywater hovered

-beamingly. Emily, still ecstatic, continued to gnaw one of Dolly's

-shoes. The whole spectacle was so utterly revolting that Pat turned to

-the door.</p>

-

-<p>"I'll be going along, Father," she said. "I want to buy some stamps."</p>

-

-<p>"I can sell you stamps, miss," said Chas. Bywater affably.</p>

-

-<p>"Thank you, I will go to the post office," said Pat. Her manner

-suggested that you got a superior brand of stamps there. She walked

-out. Rudge, as she looked upon it, seemed a more depressing place than

-ever. Sunshine flooded the High Street. Sunshine fell on the Carmody

-Arms, the Village Hall, the Plough and Chickens, the Bunch of Grapes,

-the Waggoner's Rest and the Jubilee Watering Trough. But there was no

-sunshine in the heart of Pat Wyvern.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>And, curiously enough, at this very moment up at the Hall the same

-experience was happening to Mr. Lester Carmody. Staring out of his

-study window, he gazed upon a world bathed in a golden glow: but his

-heart was cold and heavy. He had just had a visit from the Rev.

-Alistair Pond-Pond, and the Reverend Alistair had touched him for five

-shillings.</p>

-

-<p>Many men in Mr. Carmody's place would have considered that they had got

-off lightly. The vicar had come seeking subscriptions to the Church

-Organ Fund, the Mothers' Pleasant Sunday Evenings, the Distressed

-Cottagers' Aid Society, the Stipend of the Additional Curate and

-the Rudge Lads' Annual Summer Outing, and there had been moments of

-mad optimism when he had hoped for as much as a ten-pound note. The

-actual bag, as he totted it up while riding pensively away on his

-motor-bicycle, was the above-mentioned five shillings and a promise

-that the squire's nephew Hugo and his friend Mr. Fish should perform at

-the village concert next week.</p>

-

-<p>And even so, Mr. Carmody was looking on him as a robber. Five shillings

-had gone—just like that—and every moment now he was expecting his

-nephew John to walk in and increase his expenditure. For just after

-breakfast John had asked if he could have a word with him later on in

-the morning, and Mr. Carmody knew what that meant.</p>

-

-<p>John ran the Hall's dairy farm, and he was always coming to Mr.

-Carmody for money to buy exotic machinery which could not, the latter

-considered, be really necessary. To Mr. Carmody a dairy farm was a

-straight issue between man and cow. You backed the cow up against a

-wall, secured its milk, and there you were. John always seemed to want

-to make the thing so complicated and difficult, and only the fact that

-he also made it pay induced his uncle ever to accede to his monstrous

-demands.</p>

-

-<p>Nor was this all that was poisoning a perfect summer day for Mr.

-Carmody. There was in addition the soul-searing behaviour of Doctor

-Alexander Twist, of Healthward Ho.</p>

-

-<p>When Doctor Twist had undertaken the contract of making a new Lester

-Carmody out of the old Lester Carmody, he had cannily stipulated for

-cash down in advance—this to cover a course of three weeks. But at the

-end of the second week Mr. Carmody, learning from his nephew Hugo that

-an American millionaire was arriving at the Hall, had naturally felt

-compelled to forego the final stages of the treatment and return home.

-Equally naturally, he had invited Doctor Twist to refund one-third

-of the fee. This the eminent physician and physical culture expert

-had resolutely declined to do, and Mr. Carmody, re-reading the man's

-letter, thought he had never set eyes upon a baser document.</p>

-

-<p>He was shuddering at the depths of depravity which it revealed, when

-the door opened and John came in. Mr. Carmody beheld him and shuddered.

-John—he could tell it by his eye—was planning another bad dent in the

-budget.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Uncle Lester," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" said Mr. Carmody hopelessly.</p>

-

-<p>"I think we ought to have some new Alpha Separators."</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>"Alpha Separators."</p>

-

-<p>"Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"We need them."</p>

-

-<p>"Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"The old ones are past their work."</p>

-

-<p>"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is an Alpha Separator?"</p>

-

-<p>John said it was an Alpha Separator.</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause. John, who appeared to have something on his mind

-these days, stared gloomily at the carpet. Mr. Carmody shifted in his

-chair.</p>

-

-<p>"Very well," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"And new tractors," said John. "And we could do with a few harrows."</p>

-

-<p>"Why do you want harrows?"</p>

-

-<p>"For harrowing."</p>

-

-<p>Even Mr. Carmody, anxious though he was to find flaws in the other's

-reasoning, could see that this might well be so. Try harrowing without

-harrows, and you are handicapped from the start. But why harrow at

-all? That was what seemed to him superfluous and wasteful. Still, he

-supposed it was unavoidable. After all, John had been carefully trained

-at an agricultural college after leaving Oxford and presumably knew.</p>

-

-<p>"Very well," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"All right," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He went out, and Mr. Carmody experienced a little relief at the thought

-that he had now heard all this morning's bad news.</p>

-

-<p>But dairy farmers have second thoughts. The door opened again.</p>

-

-<p>"I was forgetting," said John, poking his head in.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody uttered a low moan.</p>

-

-<p>"We want some Thomas tap-cinders."</p>

-

-<p>"Thomas what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Tap-cinders."</p>

-

-<p>"Thomas tap-cinders?"</p>

-

-<p>"Thomas tap-cinders."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody swallowed unhappily. He knew it was no use asking what

-these mysterious implements were, for his nephew would simply reply

-that they were Thomas tap-cinders or that they were something invented

-by a Mr. Thomas for the purpose of cinder-tapping, leaving his brain in

-the same addled condition in which it was at present. If John wished to

-tap cinders, he supposed he must humour him.</p>

-

-<p>"Very well," he said dully.</p>

-

-<p>He held his breath for a few moments after the door had closed once

-more, then, gathering at length that the assault on his purse was over,

-expelled it in a long sigh and gave himself up to bleak meditation.</p>

-

-<p>The lot of the English landed proprietor, felt Mr. Carmody, is not what

-it used to be in the good old times. When the first Carmody settled in

-Rudge he had found little to view with alarm. He was sitting pretty,

-and he admitted it. Those were the days when churls were churls, and a

-scurvy knave was quite content to work twelve hours a day, Saturdays

-included, in return for a little black bread and an occasional nod of

-approval from his overlord. But in this Twentieth-Century England's

-peasantry has degenerated. They expect coddling. Their roofs leak, and

-you have to mend them; their walls fall down and you have to build them

-up; their lanes develop holes and you have to restore the surface,

-and all this runs into money. The way things were shaping, felt Mr.

-Carmody, in a few years a landlord would be expected to pay for the

-repairs of his tenants' wireless sets.</p>

-

-<p>He wandered to the window and looked out at the sunlit garden. And as

-he did so there came into his range of vision the sturdy figure of his

-guest, Mr. Molloy, and for the first time that morning Lester Carmody

-seemed to hear, beating faintly in the distance, the wings of the blue

-bird. In a world containing anybody as rich-looking as Thomas G. Molloy

-there was surely still hope.</p>

-

-<p>Ronald Fish's prediction that Hugo's uncle would appreciate a visit

-from so solid a citizen of the United States as Mr. Molloy had been

-fulfilled to the letter. Mr. Carmody had welcomed his guest with open

-arms. The more rich men he could gather about him, the better he was

-pleased, for he was a man of vision, and had quite a number of schemes

-in his mind for which he was anxious to obtain financial support.</p>

-

-<p>He decided to go and have a chat with Mr. Molloy. On a morning like

-this, with all Nature smiling, an American millionaire might well

-feel just in the mood to put up a few hundred thousand dollars for

-something. For July had come in on golden wings, and the weather now

-was the kind of weather to make a poet sing, a lover love, and a Scotch

-business man subscribe largely to companies formed for the purpose of

-manufacturing diamonds out of coal tar. On such a morning, felt Mr.

-Carmody, anybody ought to be willing to put up any sum for anything.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>Nature continued to smile for about another three and a quarter

-minutes, and then, as far as Mr. Carmody was concerned, the sun

-went out. With a genial heartiness, which gashed him like a knife,

-the plutocratic Mr. Molloy declined to invest even a portion of his

-millions in a new golf course, a cinema de luxe to be established in

-Rudge High Street, or any of the four other schemes which his host

-presented to his notice.</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir," said Mr. Molloy. "I'm mighty sorry I can't meet you in any

-way, but the fact is I'm all fixed up in Oil. Oil's my dish. I began in

-Oil and I'll end in Oil. I wouldn't be happy outside of Oil."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said Mr. Carmody, regarding this Human Sardine with as little

-open hostility and dislike as he could manage on the spur of the moment.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, still in lyrical vein, "I put my

-first thousand into Oil and I'll put my last thousand into Oil. Oil's

-been a good friend to me. There's money in Oil."</p>

-

-<p>"There is money," urged Mr. Carmody, "in a cinema in Rudge High Street."</p>

-

-<p>"Not the money there is in Oil."</p>

-

-<p>"You are a stranger here," went on Mr. Carmody patiently, "so you have

-no doubt got a mistaken idea of the potentialities of Rudge. Rudge,

-you must remember, is a centre. Small though it is, never forget that

-it lies just off the main road in the heart of a prosperous county.

-Worcester is only seven miles away, Birmingham only eighteen. People

-would come in their motors...."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not stopping them," said Mr. Molloy generously. "All I'm saying is

-that my money stays in little old Oil."</p>

-

-<p>"Or take Golf," said Mr. Carmody, side-stepping and attacking from

-another angle. "The only good golf course in Worcestershire at present

-is at Stourbridge. Worcestershire needs more golf courses. You know how

-popular Golf is nowadays."</p>

-

-<p>"Not so popular as Oil. Oil," said Mr. Molloy, with the air of one

-making an epigram, "is Oil."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody stopped himself just in time from saying what he thought of

-Oil. To relieve his feelings he ground his heel into the soft gravel

-of the path, and had but one regret, that Mr. Molloy's most sensitive

-toe was not under it. Half turning in the process of making this bitter

-gesture, he perceived that Providence, since the days of Job always

-curious to know just how much a good man can bear, had sent Ronald

-Overbury Fish to add to his troubles. Young Mr. Fish was sauntering up

-behind his customary eleven inches of cigarette holder, his pink face

-wearing that expression of good-natured superiority which, ever since

-their first meeting, had afflicted Mr. Carmody sorely.</p>

-

-<p>From the list of Mr. Carmody's troubles, recently tabulated, Ronnie

-Fish was inadvertently omitted. Although to Lady Julia Fish, his

-mother, this young gentleman, no doubt, was all the world, Lester

-Carmody had found him nothing but a pain in the neck. Apart from

-the hideous expense of entertaining a man who took twice of nearly

-everything, and helped himself unblushingly to more port, he chafed

-beneath his guest's curiously patronizing manner. He objected to being

-treated as a junior—and, what was more, as a half-witted junior—by

-solemn young men with pink faces.</p>

-

-<p>"What's the argument?" asked Ronnie Fish, anchoring self and cigarette

-holder at Mr. Carmody's side.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy smiled genially.</p>

-

-<p>"No argument, brother," he replied with that bluff heartiness which

-Lester Carmody had come to dislike so much. "I was merely telling our

-good friend and host here that the best investment under the broad blue

-canopy of God's sky is Oil."</p>

-

-<p>"Quite right," said Ronnie Fish. "He's perfectly correct, my dear

-Carmody."</p>

-

-<p>"Our good host was trying to interest me in golf courses."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't touch 'em," said Mr. Fish.</p>

-

-<p>"I won't," said Mr. Molloy. "Give me Oil. Oil's oil. First in war,

-first in peace, first in the hearts of its countrymen, that's what Oil

-is. The Universal Fuel of the Future."</p>

-

-<p>"Absolutely," said Ronnie Fish. "What did Gladstone say in '88? You can

-fuel some of the people all the time, and you can fuel all the people

-some of the time, but you can't fuel all the people all of the time. He

-was forgetting about Oil. Probably he meant coal."</p>

-

-<p>"Coal?" Mr. Molloy laughed satirically. You could see he despised the

-stuff. "Don't talk to me about Coal."</p>

-

-<p>This was another disappointment for Mr. Carmody. Cinemas <i>de luxe</i> and

-golf courses having failed, Coal was just what he had been intending to

-talk about. He suspected its presence beneath the turf of the park, and

-would have been glad to verify his suspicions with the aid of someone

-else's capital.</p>

-

-<p>"You listen to this bird, Carmody," said Mr. Fish, patting his host on

-the back. "He's talking sense. Oil's the stuff. Dig some of the savings

-out of the old sock, my dear Carmody, and wade in. You'll never regret

-it."</p>

-

-<p>And, having delivered himself of this advice with a fatherly

-kindliness which sent his host's temperature up several degrees, Ronnie

-Fish strolled on.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy watched him disappear with benevolent approval. He said to

-Mr. Carmody that that young man had his head screwed on the right way,

-and seemed not to notice a certain lack of responsive enthusiasm on the

-other's part. Ronnie Fish's head was not one of Mr. Carmody's favourite

-subjects at the moment.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, resuming. "Any man that goes into Oil

-is going into a good thing. Oil's all right. You don't see John D.

-Rockefeller running round asking for hand-outs from his friends, do

-you? No, sir! John's got his modest little competence, same as me, and

-he got it, like I did, out of Oil. Say, listen, Mr. Carmody, it isn't

-often I give up any of my holdings, but you've been mighty nice to me,

-inviting me to your home and all, and I'd like to do something for you

-in return. What do you say to a good, solid block of Silver River stock

-at just the price it cost me? And let me tell you I'm offering you

-something that half the big men on our side would give their eye teeth

-for. Only a couple of days before I sailed I was in Charley Schwab's

-office, and he said to me, 'Tom,' said Charley, 'right up till now

-I've stuck to Steel and I've done well. Understand,' he said, 'I'm not

-knocking Steel. But Oil's the stuff, and if you want to part with any

-of that Silver River of yours, Tom,' he said, 'pass it across this desk

-and write your own ticket.' That'll show you."</p>

-

-<p>There is no anguish like the anguish of the man who is trying to

-extract cash from a fellow human being and suddenly finds the fellow

-human being trying to extract it from him. Mr. Carmody laughed a bitter

-laugh.</p>

-

-<p>"Do you imagine," he said, "that I have money to spare for speculative

-investments?"</p>

-

-<p>"Speculative?" Mr. Molloy seemed to suspect his ears of playing tricks.

-"Silver River spec——?"</p>

-

-<p>"By the time I've finished paying the bills for the expenses of this

-infernal estate I consider myself lucky if I've got a few hundred that

-I can call my own."</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause.</p>

-

-<p>"Is that so?" said Mr. Molloy in a thin voice.</p>

-

-<p>Strictly speaking, it was not. Before succeeding to his present

-position of head of the family and squire of Rudge Hall, Lester Carmody

-had contrived to put away in gilt-edged securities a very nice sum

-indeed, the fruit of his labours in the world of business. But it was

-his whim to regard himself as a struggling pauper.</p>

-

-<p>"But all this...." Mr. Molloy indicated with a wave of his hand the

-smiling gardens, the rolling park and the opulent-looking trees

-reflected in the waters of the moat. "Surely this means a barrel of

-money?"</p>

-

-<p>"Everything that comes in goes out again in expenses. There's no end to

-my expenses. Farmers in England to-day sit up at night trying to think

-of new claims they can make against a landlord."</p>

-

-<p>There was another pause.</p>

-

-<p>"That's bad," said Mr. Molloy thoughtfully. "Yes, sir, that's bad."</p>

-

-<p>His commiseration was not all for Mr. Carmody. In fact, very little

-of it was. Most of it was reserved for himself. It began to look, he

-realized, as though in coming to this stately home of England he had

-been simply wasting valuable time. It was not as if he enjoyed staying

-at country houses in a purely æsthetic spirit. On the contrary, a place

-like Rudge Hall afflicted his town-bred nerves. Being in it seemed to

-him like living in the first-act set of an old-fashioned comic opera.

-He always felt that at any moment a band of villagers and retainers

-might dance out and start a drinking chorus.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "that must grind you a good deal."</p>

-

-<p>"What must?"</p>

-

-<p>It was not Mr. Carmody who had spoken, but his guest's attractive

-young wife, who, having returned from the village, had come up from

-the direction of the rose garden. From afar she had observed her

-husband spreading his hands in broad, persuasive gestures, and from

-her knowledge of him had gathered that he had embarked on one of those

-high-pressure sales talks of his which did so much to keep the wolf

-from the door. Then she had seen a shadow fall athwart his fine face,

-and, scenting a hitch in the negotiations, had hurried up to lend

-wifely assistance.</p>

-

-<p>"What must grind him?" she asked.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy kept nothing from his bride.</p>

-

-<p>"I was offering our host here a block of those Silver River shares...."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, you aren't going to sell Silver Rivers!" cried Mrs. Molloy in

-pretty concern. "Why, you've always told me they're the biggest thing

-you've got."</p>

-

-<p>"So they are. But...."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, well," said Dolly with a charming smile, "seeing it's Mr. Carmody.

-I wouldn't mind Mr. Carmody having them."</p>

-

-<p>"Nor would I," said Mr. Molloy sincerely. "But he can't afford to buy."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"You tell her," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody told her. He was never averse to speaking of the

-unfortunate position in which the modern owner of English land found

-himself.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I don't get it," said Dolly, shaking her head. "You call

-yourself a poor man. How can you be poor, when that gallery place you

-showed us round yesterday is jam full of pictures worth a fortune an

-inch and tapestries and all those gold coins?"</p>

-

-<p>"Heirlooms."</p>

-

-<p>"How's that?"</p>

-

-<p>"They're heirlooms," said Mr. Carmody bitterly.</p>

-

-<p>He always felt bitter when he thought of the Rudge Hall heirlooms. He

-looked upon them as a mean joke played on him by a gang of sardonic

-ancestors.</p>

-

-<p>To a man, lacking both reverence for family traditions and appreciation

-of the beautiful in art, who comes into possession of an ancient house

-and its contents, there must always be something painfully ironical

-about heirlooms. To such a man they are simply so much potential wealth

-which is being allowed to lie idle, doing no good to anybody. Mr.

-Carmody had always had that feeling very strongly.</p>

-

-<p>Unlike the majority of heirs, he had not been trained from boyhood

-to revere the home of his ancestors, and to look forward to its

-possession as a sacred trust. He had been the second son of a second

-son, and his chance of ever succeeding to the property was at the

-outset so remote that he had seldom given it a thought. He had gone

-into business at an early age, and when, in middle life, a series of

-accidents made him squire of Rudge Hall, he had brought with him to the

-place a practical eye and the commercial outlook. The result was that

-when he walked in the picture gallery and thought how much solid cash

-he could get for this Velasquez or that Gainsborough, if only he were

-given a free hand, the iron entered into Lester Carmody's soul.</p>

-

-<p>"They're heirlooms," he said. "I can't sell them."</p>

-

-<p>"How come? They're yours, aren't they?"</p>

-

-<p>"No," said Mr. Carmody, "they belong to the estate."</p>

-

-<p>On Mr. Molloy, as he listened to his host's lengthy exposition of the

-laws governing heirlooms, there descended a deepening cloud of gloom.

-You couldn't, it appeared, dispose of the darned things without the

-consent of trustees; while even if the trustees gave their consent

-they collared the money and invested it on behalf of the estate. And

-Mr. Molloy, though ordinarily a man of sanguine temperament, could not

-bring himself to believe that a hard-boiled bunch of trustees, most of

-them probably lawyers with tight lips and suspicious minds, would ever

-have the sporting spirit to take a flutter in Silver River Ordinaries.</p>

-

-<p>"Hell!" said Mr. Molloy with a good deal of feeling.</p>

-

-<p>Dolly linked her arm in his with a pretty gesture of affectionate

-solicitude.</p>

-

-<p>"Poor old Pop!" she said. "He's all broken up about this."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody regarded his guest sourly.</p>

-

-<p>"What's he got to worry about?" he asked with a certain resentment.</p>

-

-<p>"Why, Pop was sort of hoping he'd be able to buy all this stuff," said

-Dolly. "He was telling me only this morning that, if you felt like

-selling, he would write you out his cheque for whatever you wanted

-without thinking twice."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">V</p>

-

-<p>Moodily scanning his wife's face during Mr. Carmody's lecture on

-Heirloom Law, Mr. Molloy had observed it suddenly light up in a manner

-which suggested that some pleasing thought was passing through her

-always agile brain; but, presented now in words, this thought left him

-decidedly cold. He could not see any sense in it.</p>

-

-<p>"For the love of Pete...!" began Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>His bride had promised to love, honour, and obey him, but she had never

-said anything about taking any notice of him when he tried to butt in

-on her moments of inspiration. She ignored the interruption.</p>

-

-<p>"You see," she said, "Pop collects old junk—I mean antiques and all

-like that. Over in America he's got a great big museum place full of

-stuff. He's going to present it to the nation when he hands in his

-dinner pail. Aren't you, Pop?"</p>

-

-<p>It became apparent to Mr. Molloy that at the back of his wife's mind

-there floated some idea at which, handicapped by his masculine slowness

-of wit, he could not guess. It was plain to him, however, that she

-expected him to do his bit, so he did it.</p>

-

-<p>"You betcher," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"How much would you say all that stuff in your museum was worth, Pop?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy was still groping in outer darkness, but he persevered.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo," he said, "worth? Call it a million.... Two millions.... Three,

-maybe."</p>

-

-<p>"You see," explained Dolly, "the place is so full up, he doesn't really

-know what he's got. But Pierpont Morgan offered you a million for the

-pictures alone, didn't he?"</p>

-

-<p>Now that figures had crept into the conversation, Mr. Molloy was

-feeling more at his ease. He liked figures.</p>

-

-<p>"You're thinking of Jake Shubert, honey," he said. "It was the

-tapestries that Pierp. wanted. And it wasn't a million, it was seven

-hundred thousand. I laughed in his face. I asked him if he thought

-he was trying to buy cheese sandwiches at the delicatessen store or

-something. Pierp. was sore." Mr. Molloy shook his head regretfully,

-and you could see he was thinking that it was too bad that his little

-joke should have caused a coolness between himself and an old friend.

-"But, great guns!" he said, in defence of his attitude. "Seven hundred

-thousand! Did he think I wanted carfare?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody's always rather protuberant eyes had been bulging farther

-and farther out of their sockets all through this exchange of remarks,

-and now they reached the farthest point possible and stayed there.

-His breath was coming in little gasps, and his fingers twitched

-convulsively. He was suffering the extreme of agony.</p>

-

-<p>It was all very well for a man like Mr. Molloy to speak sneeringly of

-$700,000. To most people—and Mr. Carmody was one of them—$700,000 is

-quite a nice little sum. Mr. Molloy, if he saw $700,000 lying in the

-gutter, might not think it worth his while to stoop and pick it up,

-but Mr. Carmody could not imitate that proud detachment. The thought

-that he had as his guest at Rudge a man who combined with a bottomless

-purse a taste for antiquities and that only the imbecile laws relating

-to heirlooms prevented them consummating a deal racked him from head to

-foot.</p>

-

-<p>"How much would you have given Mr. Carmody for all those pictures and

-things he showed us yesterday?" asked Dolly, twisting the knife in the

-wound.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy spread his hands carelessly.</p>

-

-<p>"Two hundred thousand ... three ... we wouldn't have quarrelled about

-the price. But what's the use of talking? He can't sell 'em."</p>

-

-<p>"Why can't he?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, how can he?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you how. Fake a burglary."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. Have the things stolen and slipped over to you without anybody

-knowing, and then you hand him your cheque for two hundred thousand or

-whatever it is, and you're happy and he's happy and everybody's happy.

-And, what's more, I guess all this stuff is insured, isn't it? Well

-then, Mr. Carmody can stick to the insurance money, and he's that much

-up besides whatever he gets from you."</p>

-

-<p>There was a silence. Dolly had said her say, and Mr. Molloy felt for

-the moment incapable of speech. That he had not been mistaken in

-supposing that his wife had a scheme at the back of her head was now

-plain, but, as outlined, it took his breath away. Considered purely

-as a scheme, he had not a word to say against it. It was commercially

-sound and did credit to the ingenuity of one whom he had always

-regarded as the slickest thinker of her sex. But it was not the sort of

-scheme, he considered, which ought to have emanated from the presumably

-innocent and unspotted daughter of a substantial Oil millionaire. It

-was calculated, he felt, to create in their host's mind doubts and

-misgivings as to the sort of people he was entertaining.</p>

-

-<p>He need have no such apprehension. It was not righteous disapproval

-that was holding Mr. Carmody dumb.</p>

-

-<p>It has been laid down by an acute thinker that there is a subtle

-connection between felony and fat. Almost all embezzlers, for instance,

-says this authority, are fat men. Whether this is or is not true,

-the fact remains that the sensational criminality of the suggestion

-just made to him awoke no horror in Mr. Carmody's ample bosom. He

-was startled, as any man might be who had this sort of idea sprung

-suddenly on him in his own garden, but he was not shocked. A youth and

-middle age spent on the London Stock Exchange had left Lester Carmody

-singularly broad-minded. He had to a remarkable degree that specious

-charity which allows a man to look indulgently on any financial

-project, however fishy, provided he can see a bit in it for himself.</p>

-

-<p>"It's money for nothing," urged Dolly, misinterpreting his silence.

-"The stuff isn't doing any good, just lying around the way it is now.

-And it isn't as if it didn't really belong to you. All what you were

-saying awhile back about the law is simply mashed potatoes. The things

-belong to the house, and the house belongs to you, so where's the harm

-in your selling them? Who's supposed to get them after you?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody withdrew his gaze from the middle distance.</p>

-

-<p>"Eh? Oh. My nephew Hugo."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you aren't worrying about him?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody was not. What he was worrying about was the practicability

-of the thing. Could it, he was asking himself, be put safely through

-without the risk, so distasteful to a man of sensibility, of landing

-him for a lengthy term of years in a prison cell? It was on this aspect

-of the matter that he now touched.</p>

-

-<p>"It wouldn't be safe," he said, and few men since the world began have

-ever spoken more wistfully. "We would be found out."</p>

-

-<p>"Not a chance. Who would find out? Who's going to say anything? You're

-not. I'm not. Pop's not."</p>

-

-<p>"You bet your life Pop's not," asserted Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody gazed out over the waters of the moat. His brain, quickened

-by the stimulating prospect of money for nothing, detected another

-doubtful point.</p>

-

-<p>"Who would take the things?"</p>

-

-<p>"You mean get them out of the house?"</p>

-

-<p>"Exactly. Somebody would have to take them. It would be necessary to

-create the appearance of an actual burglary."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, there'll be an actual burglary."</p>

-

-<p>"But whom could we trust in such a vital matter?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's all right. Pop's got a friend, another millionaire like

-himself, who would put this thing through just for the fun of it, to

-oblige Pop. You could trust him."</p>

-

-<p>"Who?" asked Mr. Molloy, plainly surprised that any friend of his could

-be trusted.</p>

-

-<p>"Chimp," said Dolly briefly.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Chimp," said Mr. Molloy, his face clearing. "Yes, Chimp would do

-it."</p>

-

-<p>"Who," asked Mr. Carmody, "is Chimp?"</p>

-

-<p>"A good friend of mine. You wouldn't know him."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody scratched at the gravel with his toe, and for a long minute

-there was silence in the garden. Mr. Molloy looked at Mrs. Molloy.

-Mrs. Molloy looked at Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy closed his left eye for

-a fractional instant, and in response Mrs. Molloy permitted her right

-eyelid to quiver. But, perceiving that this was one of the occasions on

-which a strong man wishes to be left alone to commune with his soul,

-they forebore to break in upon his reverie with jarring speech.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I'll think it over," said Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"Atta-boy!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. You take a nice walk around the block all by yourself," advised

-Mrs. Molloy, "and then come back and issue a bulletin."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody moved away, pondering deeply, and Mr. Molloy turned to his

-wife.</p>

-

-<p>"What made you think of Chimp?" he asked doubtfully.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, he's the only guy on this side that we really know. We can't

-pick and choose, same as if we were in New York."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy eyed the moat with a thoughtful frown.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I'll tell you, honey. I'm not so darned sure that I sort of kind

-of like bringing Chimp into a thing like this. You know what he is—as

-slippery as an eel that's been rubbed all over with axle grease. He

-might double-cross us."</p>

-

-<p>"Not if we double-cross him first."</p>

-

-<p>"But could we?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure we could. And, anyway, it's Chimp or no one. This isn't the sort

-of affair you can just go out into the street and pick up the first

-man you run into. It's a job where you've got to have somebody you've

-worked with before."</p>

-

-<p>"All right, baby. If you say so. You always were the brains of the

-firm. If you think it's kayo, then it's all right by me and no more to

-be said. Cheese it! Here's his nibs back again."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody was coming up the gravel path, his air that of a man who

-has made a great decision. He had evidently been following a train of

-thought, for he began abruptly at the point to which it had led him.</p>

-

-<p>"There's only one thing," he said. "I don't like the idea of bringing

-in this friend of yours. He may be all right or he may not. You say you

-can trust him, but it seems to me the fewer people who know about this

-business, the better."</p>

-

-<p>These were Mr. Molloy's sentiments, also. He would vastly have

-preferred to keep it a nice, cosy affair among the three of them. But

-it was no part of his policy to ignore obvious difficulties.</p>

-

-<p>"I'd like that, too," he said. "I don't want to call in Chimp any more

-than you do. But there's this thing of getting the stuff out of the

-house."</p>

-

-<p>"What you were saying just now," Mrs. Molloy reminded Mr. Carmody.

-"It's got to look like an outside job, what I mean."</p>

-

-<p>"As it's called," said Mr. Molloy hastily. "She's always reading these

-detective stories," he explained. "That's where she picks up these

-expressions. Outside job, ha, ha! But she's dead right, at that. You

-said yourself it would be necessary to create the appearance of an

-actual burglary. If we don't get Chimp, who is going to take the stuff?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am."</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am," repeated Mr. Carmody stoutly. "I have been thinking the whole

-matter out, and it will be perfectly simple. I shall get up very early

-to-morrow morning and enter the picture gallery through the window by

-means of a ladder. This will deceive the police into supposing the

-theft to have been the work of a professional burglar."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy was regarding him with affectionate admiration.</p>

-

-<p>"I never knew you were such a hot sketch!" said Mr. Molloy. "You

-certainly are one smooth citizen. Looks to me as if you'd done this

-sort of thing before."</p>

-

-<p>"Wear gloves," advised Mrs. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"What she means," said Mr. Molloy, again speaking with a certain

-nervous haste, "is that the first thing the bulls—as the expression

-is—they always call the police bulls in these detective stories—the

-first thing the police look for is fingerprints. The fellows in the

-books always wear gloves."</p>

-

-<p>"A very sensible precaution," said Mr. Carmody, now thoroughly in the

-spirit of the thing. "I am glad you mentioned it. I shall make a point

-of doing so."</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>The picture gallery of Rudge Hall, the receptacle of what Mrs. Soapy

-Molloy had called the antiques and all like that, was situated on the

-second floor of that historic edifice. To Mr. Carmody, at five-thirty

-on the following morning, as he propped against the broad sill of the

-window facing the moat a ladder, which he had discovered in one of the

-barns, it looked much higher. He felt, as he gazed upward, like an

-inexpert Jack about to mount the longest bean stalk on record.</p>

-

-<p>Even as a boy, Lester Carmody had never been a great climber. While

-his young companions, reckless of risk to life and limb, had swarmed

-to the top of apple trees, Mr. Carmody had preferred to roam about on

-solid ground, hunting in the grass for windfalls. He had always hated

-heights, and this morning found him more prejudiced against them than

-ever. It says much for crime as a wholesome influence in a man's life

-that the lure of the nefarious job which he had undertaken should

-have induced him eventually after much hesitation to set foot on the

-ladder's lowest rung. Nothing but a single-minded desire to do down an

-innocent insurance company could have lent him the necessary courage.</p>

-

-<p>Mind having triumphed over matter to this extent, Mr. Carmody found

-the going easier. Carefully refraining from looking down, he went

-doggedly upward. Only the sound of his somewhat stertorous breathing

-broke the hushed stillness of the summer morning. As far as the weather

-was concerned, it was the start of a perfect day. But Mr. Carmody paid

-no attention to the sunbeams creeping over the dewy grass, nor, when

-the quiet was broken by the first piping of birds, did he pause to

-listen. He had not, he considered, time for that sort of thing. He was

-to have ample leisure later, but of this he was not aware.</p>

-

-<p>He continued to climb, using the extreme of caution—a method which,

-while it helped to ease his mind, necessarily rendered progress slow.

-Before long, he was suffering from a feeling that he had been climbing

-this ladder all his life. The thing seemed to have no end. He was now,

-he felt, at such a distance from the earth that he wondered the air was

-not more rarefied, and it appeared incredible to him that he should not

-long since have reached the window sill.</p>

-

-<p>Looking up at this point, a thing he had not dared to do before, he

-found that steady perseverance had brought about its usual result. The

-sill was only a few inches above his head, and with the realization

-of this fact there came to him something that was almost a careless

-jauntiness. He quickened his pace, and treading heavily on an upper

-rung snapped it in two as if it had been matchwood.</p>

-

-<p>When this accident occurred, he had been on a level with the sill and

-just about to step warily on to it. The effect of the breaking of the

-rung was to make him execute this movement at about fifteen times the

-speed which he had contemplated. There was a moment in which the whole

-universe seemed to dissolve, and then he was on the sill, his fingers

-clinging with a passionate grip to a small piece of lead piping that

-protruded from the wall and his legs swinging dizzily over the abyss.

-The ladder, urged outward by his last frenzied kick, tottered for an

-instant, then fell to the ground.</p>

-

-<p>The events just described, though it seemed longer to the principal

-actor in them, had occupied perhaps six seconds. They left Mr. Carmody

-in a world that jumped and swam before his eyes, feeling as though

-somebody had extracted his heart and replaced it with some kind of

-lively firework. This substitute, whatever it was, appeared to be

-fizzing and leaping inside his chest, and its gyrations interfered with

-his breathing. For some minutes his only conscious thought was that he

-felt extremely ill. Then becoming by slow degrees more composed, he was

-enabled to examine the situation.</p>

-

-<p>It was not a pleasant one. At first, it had been agreeable enough

-simply to allow his mind to dwell on the fact that he was alive and in

-one piece. But now, probing beneath this mere surface aspect of the

-matter, he perceived that, taking the most conservative estimate, he

-must acknowledge himself to be in a peculiarly awkward position.</p>

-

-<p>The hour was about a quarter to six. He was thirty feet or so above the

-ground. And, though reason told him that the window sill on which he

-sat was thoroughly solid and quite capable of bearing a much heavier

-weight, he could not rid himself of the feeling that at any moment it

-might give way and precipitate him into the depths.</p>

-

-<p>Of course, looked at in the proper spirit, his predicament had all

-sorts of compensations. The medical profession is agreed that there is

-nothing better for the health than the fresh air of the early morning:

-and this he was in a position to drink into his lungs in unlimited

-quantities. Furthermore, nobody could have been more admirably situated

-than he to compile notes for one of those Country Life articles which

-are so popular with the readers of daily papers.</p>

-

-<p>"As I sit on my second-floor window sill and gaze about me," Mr.

-Carmody ought to have been saying to himself, "I see Dame Nature busy

-about her morning tasks. Everything in my peaceful garden is growing

-and blowing. Here I note that most gem-like of all annuals, the African

-nemesia with its brilliant ruby and turquoise tints; there the lovely

-tangle of blue, purple, and red formed by the blending shades of

-delphiniums, Canterbury bells, and the popular geum. Birds, too, are

-chanting everywhere their morning anthems. I see the Jay (<i>Garrulus

-Glandarius Rufitergum</i>), the <i>Corvus Monedula Spermologus</i> or Jackdaw,

-the Sparrow (better known, perhaps, to some of my readers as <i>Prunella

-Modularis Occidentalis</i>) and many others...."</p>

-

-<p>But Mr. Carmody's reflections did not run on these lines. It was

-with a gloomy and hostile eye that he regarded the grass, the trees,

-the flowers, the birds and dew that lay like snow upon the turf: and

-of all these, it was possibly the birds that he disliked most. They

-were an appalling crowd—noisy, fussy, and bustling about with a

-sort of overdone heartiness that seemed to Mr. Carmody affected and

-offensive. They got on his nerves and stayed there: and outstanding

-among the rest in general lack of charm was a certain Dartford Warbler

-(<i>Melizophilus Undatus Dartfordiensis</i>) which, instead of staying in

-Dartford, where it belonged, had come all the way up to Worcestershire

-simply, it appeared, for the purpose of adding to his discomfort.</p>

-

-<p>This creature, flaunting a red waistcoat which might have been all

-right for a frosty day in winter but on a summer morning seemed

-intolerably loud and struck the jarring note of a Fair Isle sweater in

-the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, arrived at five minutes past six and,

-sitting down on the edge of Mr. Carmody's window sill, looked long and

-earnestly at that unfortunate man with its head cocked on one side.</p>

-

-<p>"This can't be real," said the Dartford Warbler in a low voice.</p>

-

-<p>It then flew away and did some rough work among the insects under a

-bush. At six-ten it returned.</p>

-

-<p>"It is real," it soliloquized. "But if real, what is it?"</p>

-

-<p>Pondering this problem, it returned to its meal, and Mr. Carmody was

-left for some considerable time to his meditations. It may have been

-about twenty-five minutes to seven when a voice at his elbow aroused

-him once more. The Dartford Warbler was back again, its eye now a

-little glazed and wearing the replete look of the bird that has done

-itself well at the breakfast table.</p>

-

-<p>"And why?" mused the Dartford Warbler, resuming at the point where he

-had left off.</p>

-

-<p>To Mr. Carmody, conscious now of a devouring hunger, the spectacle of

-this bloated bird was the last straw. He struck out at it in a spasm

-of irritation and nearly overbalanced. The Warbler uttered a shrill

-exclamation of terror and disappeared, looking like an absconding

-bookmaker. Mr. Carmody huddled back against the window, palpitating.

-And more time passed.</p>

-

-<p>It was at half-past seven, when he was beginning to feel that he had

-not tasted food since boyhood, that there sounded from somewhere below

-on his right a shrill whistling.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>He looked cautiously down. It gave him acute vertigo to do so, but he

-braved this in his desire to see. Since his vigil began, he had heard

-much whistling. In addition to the <i>Garrulus Glandarius Rufitergum</i>

-and the <i>Corvus Monedula Spermologus</i>, he had been privileged for the

-last hour or so to listen to a concert featuring such artists as the

-<i>Dryobates Major Anglicus</i>, the <i>Sturnus Vulgaris</i>, the <i>Emberiza

-Curlus</i>, and the <i>Muscicapa Striata</i>, or Spotted Flycatcher: and, a

-moment before, he would have said that in the matter of whistling he

-had had all he wanted. But this latest outburst sounded human. It

-stirred in his bosom something approaching hope.</p>

-

-<p>So Mr. Carmody, craning his neck, waited: and presently round the

-corner of the house, a towel about his shoulders, suggesting that he

-was on his way to take an early morning dip in the moat, came his

-nephew Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody, as this chronicle has shown, had never entertained for

-Hugo quite that warmth of affection which one likes to see in an uncle

-toward his nearest of kin, but at the present moment he could not have

-appreciated him more if he had been a millionaire anxious to put up

-capital for a new golf course in the park.</p>

-

-<p>"Hoy!" he cried, much as the beleaguered garrison of Lucknow must have

-done to the advance guard of the relieving Highlanders. "Hoy!"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo stopped. He looked to his right, then to his left, then in front

-of him, and then, turning, behind him. It was a spectacle that chilled

-in an instant the new sensation of kindness which his uncle had been

-feeling toward him.</p>

-

-<p>"Hoy!" cried Mr. Carmody. "Hugo! Confound the boy! Hugo!"</p>

-

-<p>For the first time the other looked up. Perceiving Mr. Carmody in his

-eyrie, he stood rigid, gazing with opened mouth. He might have been

-posing for a statue of Young Man Startled By Snake in Path While About

-to Bathe.</p>

-

-<p>"Great Scot!" said Hugo, looking to his uncle's prejudiced eye exactly

-like the Dartford Warbler. "What on earth are you doing up there?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody would have writhed in irritation, had not prudence reminded

-him that he was thirty feet too high in the air to do that sort of

-thing.</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind what I'm doing up here! Help me down."</p>

-

-<p>"How did you get there?"</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind how I got here!"</p>

-

-<p>"But what," persisted Hugo insatiably, "is the big—or general—idea?"</p>

-

-<p>Withheld from the relief of writhing, Mr. Carmody gritted his teeth.</p>

-

-<p>"Put that ladder up," he said in a strained voice.</p>

-

-<p>"Ladder?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ladder."</p>

-

-<p>"What ladder?"</p>

-

-<p>"There is a ladder on the ground."</p>

-

-<p>"Where?"</p>

-

-<p>"There. No, not there. There. There. Not there, I tell you. There.

-There."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo, following these directions, concluded a successful search.</p>

-

-<p>"Right," he said. "Ladder, long, wooden, for purposes of climbing, one.

-Correct as per memo. Now what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Put it up."</p>

-

-<p>"Right."</p>

-

-<p>"And hold it very carefully."</p>

-

-<p>"Esteemed order booked," said Hugo. "Carry on."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you sure you are holding it carefully?"</p>

-

-<p>"As in a vise."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, don't let go."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody, dying a considerable number of deaths in the process,

-descended. He found his nephew's curiosity at close range even more

-acute than it had been from a distance.</p>

-

-<p>"What on earth were you doing up there?" said Hugo, starting again at

-the beginning.</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind."</p>

-

-<p>"But what were you?"</p>

-

-<p>"If you wish to know, a rung broke and the ladder slipped."</p>

-

-<p>"But what were you doing on a ladder?"</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind!" cried Mr. Carmody, regretting more bitterly than ever

-before in his life that his late brother Eustace had not lived and died

-a bachelor. "Don't keep saying What—What—What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, why?" said Hugo, conceding the point. "Why were you climbing

-ladders?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody hesitated. His native intelligence returning, he perceived

-now that this was just what the great public would want to know. It was

-little use urging a human talking machine like his nephew to keep quiet

-and say nothing about this incident. In a couple of hours it would be

-all over Rudge. He thought swiftly.</p>

-

-<p>"I fancied I saw a swallow's nest under the eaves."</p>

-

-<p>"Swallow's nest?"</p>

-

-<p>"Swallow's nest. The nest," said Mr. Carmody between his teeth, "of a

-swallow."</p>

-

-<p>"Did you think swallows nested in July?"</p>

-

-<p>"Why shouldn't they?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, they don't."</p>

-

-<p>"I never said they did. I merely said...."</p>

-

-<p>"No swallow has ever nested in July."</p>

-

-<p>"I never...."</p>

-

-<p>"April," said our usually well-informed correspondent.</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>"April. Swallows nest in April."</p>

-

-<p>"Damn all swallows!" said Mr. Carmody. And there was silence for a

-moment, while Hugo directed his keen young mind to other aspects of

-this strange affair.</p>

-

-<p>"How long had you been up there?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know. Hours. Since half-past five."</p>

-

-<p>"Half-past five? You mean you got up at half-past five to look for

-swallows' nests in July?"</p>

-

-<p>"I did not get up to look for swallows' nests."</p>

-

-<p>"But you said you were looking for swallows' nests."</p>

-

-<p>"I did not say I was looking for swallows' nests. I merely said I

-fancied I saw a swallow's nest...."</p>

-

-<p>"You couldn't have done. Swallows don't nest in July.... April."</p>

-

-<p>The sun was peeping over the elms. Mr. Carmody raised his clenched

-fists to it.</p>

-

-<p>"I did not say I saw a swallow's nest. I said I thought I saw a

-swallow's nest."</p>

-

-<p>"And got a ladder out and climbed up for it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Having risen from couch at five-thirty ante meridian?"</p>

-

-<p>"Will you kindly stop asking me all these questions."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo regarded him thoughtfully.</p>

-

-<p>"Just as you like, Uncle. Well, anything further this morning? If not,

-I'll be getting along and taking my dip."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>"I say, Ronnie," said Hugo, some two hours later, meeting his friend en

-route for the breakfast table. "You know my uncle?"</p>

-

-<p>"What about him?"</p>

-

-<p>"He's loopy."</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>"Gone clean off his castors. I found him at seven o'clock this morning

-sitting on a second-floor window sill. He said he'd got up at

-five-thirty to look for swallows' nests."</p>

-

-<p>"Bad," said Mr. Fish, shaking his head with even more than his usual

-solemnity. "Second-floor window sill, did you say?"</p>

-

-<p>"Second-floor window sill."</p>

-

-<p>"Exactly how my aunt started," said Ronnie Fish.</p>

-

-<p>"They found her sitting on the roof of the stables, playing the ukulele

-in a blue dressing gown. She said she was Boadicea. And she wasn't.

-That's the point, old boy," said Mr. Fish earnestly. "She wasn't. We

-must get you out of this as quickly as possible, or before you know

-where you are you'll find yourself being murdered in your bed. It's

-this living in the country that does it. Six consecutive months in the

-country is enough to sap the intellect of anyone. Looking for swallows'

-nests, was he?"</p>

-

-<p>"So he said. And swallows don't nest in July. They nest in April."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Fish nodded.</p>

-

-<p>"That's how I always heard the story," he agreed. "The whole thing

-looks very black to me, and the sooner you're safe out of this and in

-London, the better."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>At about the same moment, Mr. Carmody was in earnest conference with

-Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"That man you were telling me about," said Mr. Carmody. "That friend of

-yours who you said would help us."</p>

-

-<p>"Chimp?"</p>

-

-<p>"I believe you referred to him as Chimp. How soon could you get in

-touch with him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Right away, brother."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody objected to being called brother, but this was no time for

-being finicky.</p>

-

-<p>"Send for him at once."</p>

-

-<p>"Why, have you given up the idea of getting that stuff out of the house

-yourself?"</p>

-

-<p>"Entirely," said Mr. Carmody. He shuddered slightly. "I have been

-thinking the matter over very carefully, and I feel that this is an

-affair where we require the services of some third party. Where is this

-friend of yours? In London?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. He's right around the corner. His name's Twist. He runs a sort of

-health-farm place only a few miles from here."</p>

-

-<p>"God bless my soul! Healthward Ho?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's the spot. Do you know it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Why, I have only just returned from there."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy was conscious of a feeling of almost incredulous awe. It

-was the sort of feeling which would come to a man who saw miracles

-happening all around him. He could hardly believe that things could

-possibly run as smoothly as they appeared to be doing. He had

-anticipated a certain amount of difficulty in selling Chimp Twist to

-Mr. Carmody, as he phrased it to himself, and had looked forward with

-not a little apprehension to a searching inquisition into Chimp Twist's

-<i>bona fides</i>. And now, it seemed, Mr. Carmody knew Chimp personally and

-was, no doubt, prepared to receive him without a question. Could luck

-like this hold? That was the only thought that disturbed Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, isn't that interesting!" he said slowly. "So you know my old

-friend Twist, do you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Mr. Carmody, speaking, however, as if the acquaintanceship

-were not one to which he looked back with any pleasure. "I know him

-very well."</p>

-

-<p>"Fine!" said Mr. Molloy. "You see, if I thought we were getting in

-somebody you knew nothing about and felt you couldn't trust, it would

-sort of worry me."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody made no comment on this evidence of his guest's nice

-feeling. He was meditating and did not hear it. What he was meditating

-on was the agreeable fact that money which he had been trying so vainly

-to recover from Doctor Twist would not be a dead loss after all. He

-could write if off as part of the working expenses of this little

-venture. He beamed happily at Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Healthward Ho is on the telephone," he said. "Go and speak to Doctor

-Twist now and ask him to come over here at once." He hesitated for a

-moment, then came bravely to a decision. After all, whatever the cost

-in petrol, oil, and depreciation of tires, it was for a good object.

-More working expenses. "I will send my car for him," he said.</p>

-

-<p>If you wish to accumulate, you must inevitably speculate, felt Mr.

-Carmody.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>The strange depression which had come upon Pat in the shop of Chas.

-Bywater did not yield, as these gray moods generally do, to the

-curative influence of time. The following morning found her as gloomy

-as ever—indeed, rather gloomier, for shortly after breakfast the

-<i>noblesse oblige</i> spirit of the Wyverns had sent her on a reluctant

-visit to an old retainer who lived—if you could call it that—in one

-of the smaller and stuffier houses in Budd Street. Pensioned off after

-cooking for the Colonel for eighteen years, this female had retired

-to bed and stayed there, and there was a legend in the family, though

-neither by word nor look did she ever give any indication of it, that

-she enjoyed seeing Pat.</p>

-

-<p>Bedridden ladies of advanced age seldom bubble over with fun and <i>joie

-de vivre</i>. This one's attitude toward life seemed to have been borrowed

-from her favourite light reading, the works of the Prophet Jeremiah,

-and Pat, as she emerged into the sunshine after some eighty minutes of

-her society, was feeling rather like Jeremiah's younger sister.</p>

-

-<p>The sense of being in a world unworthy of her—a world cold and

-unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade of human being, had now

-become so oppressive that she was compelled to stop on her way home

-and linger on the old bridge which spanned the Skirme. From the days

-of her childhood this sleepy, peaceful spot had always been a haven

-when things went wrong. She was gazing down into the slow-moving water

-and waiting for it to exercise its old spell, when she heard her name

-spoken and turned to see Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>"What ho," said Hugo, pausing beside her. His manner was genial and

-unconcerned. He had not met her since that embarrassing scene in the

-lobby of the Hotel Lincoln, but he was a man on whom the memory of past

-embarrassments sat lightly. "What do you think you're doing, young Pat?"</p>

-

-<p>Pat found herself cheering up a little. She liked Hugo. The sense of

-being all alone in a bleak world left her.</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing in particular," she said. "Just looking at the water."</p>

-

-<p>"Which in its proper place," agreed Hugo, "is admirable stuff. I've

-been doing a bit of froth-blowing at the Carmody Arms. Also buying

-cigarettes and other necessaries. I say, have you heard about my Uncle

-Lester's brain coming unstuck? Absolutely. He's quite <i>non compos</i>.

-Mad as a coot. Belfry one seething mass of bats. He's taken to climbing

-ladders in the small hours after swallows' nests. However, shelving

-that for the moment, I'm very glad I ran into you this morning, young

-Pat. I wish to have a serious talk with you about old John."</p>

-

-<p>"John?"</p>

-

-<p>"John."</p>

-

-<p>"What about John?"</p>

-

-<p>At this moment there whirred past, bearing in its interior a weedy,

-snub-nosed man with a waxed moustache, a large red automobile. Hugo,

-suspending his remarks, followed it with astonished eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"Good Lord!"</p>

-

-<p>"What about Johnnie?"</p>

-

-<p>"That was the Dex-Mayo," said Hugo. "And the gargoyle inside was that

-blighter Twist from Healthward Ho. Great Scott! The car must have been

-over there to fetch him."</p>

-

-<p>"What's so remarkable about that?"</p>

-

-<p>"What's so remarkable?" echoed Hugo, astounded. "What's remarkable

-about Uncle Lester deliberately sending his car twenty miles to fetch

-a man who could have come, if he had to come at all, by train at his

-own expense? My dear old thing, it's revolutionary. It marks an epoch.

-Do you know what I think has happened? You remember that dynamite

-explosion in the park when Uncle Lester nearly got done in?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't have much chance to forget it."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, what I believe has happened is that the shock he got that day

-has completely changed his nature. It's a well-known thing. You hear

-of such cases all the time. Ronnie Fish was telling me about one only

-yesterday. There was a man he knew in London, a money lender, a fellow

-who had a glass eye, and the only thing that enabled anyone to tell

-which of his eyes was which was that the glass one had rather a more

-human expression than the other. That's the sort of chap he was. Well,

-one day he was nearly konked in a railway accident, and he came out of

-hospital a different man. Slapped people on the back, patted children

-on the head, tore up I.O.U.'s, and talked about its being everybody's

-duty to make the world a better place. Take it from me, young Pat,

-Uncle Lester's whole nature has undergone some sort of rummy change

-like that. That swallow's nest business must have been a preliminary

-symptom. Ronnie tells me that this money lender with the glass eye...."</p>

-

-<p>Pat was not interested in glass-eyed money lenders.</p>

-

-<p>"What were you saying about John?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going home quick, so as to be

-among those present when he starts scattering the stuff. It's quite

-on the cards that I may scoop that five hundred yet. Once a tightwad

-starts seeing the light...."</p>

-

-<p>"You were saying something about John," said Pat, falling into step

-with him as he moved off. His babble irked her, making her wish that

-she could put the clock back a few years. Age, they say, has its

-compensations, but one of the drawbacks of becoming grown-up and

-sedate is that you have to abandon the childish practice of clumping

-your friends on the side of the head when they wander from the point.

-However, she was not too old to pinch her companion in the fleshy part

-of the arm, and she did so.</p>

-

-<p>"Ouch!" said Hugo, coming out of his trance.</p>

-

-<p>"What about John?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo massaged his arm tenderly. The look of a greyhound pursuing an

-electric hare died out of his eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"Of course, yes. John. Glad you reminded me. Have you seen John lately?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. I'm not allowed to go to the Hall, and he seems too busy to come

-and see me."</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't so much being busy. Don't forget there's a war on. No doubt

-he's afraid of bumping into the parent."</p>

-

-<p>"If Johnnie's scared of Father...."</p>

-

-<p>"There's no need to speak in that contemptuous tone. I am, and there

-are few more intrepid men alive than Hugo Carmody. The old Colonel,

-believe me, is a tough baby. If I ever see him, I shall run like a

-rabbit, and my biographers may make of it what they will. You, being

-his daughter and having got accustomed to his ways, probably look on

-him as something quite ordinary and harmless, but even you will admit

-that he's got eyebrows which must be seen to be believed."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, never mind Father's eyebrows. Go on about Johnnie."</p>

-

-<p>"Right ho. Well, then, look here, young Pat," said Hugo, earnestly,

-"in the interests of the aforesaid John, I want to ask you a favour. I

-understand he proposed to you that night at the Mustard Spoon."</p>

-

-<p>"Well?"</p>

-

-<p>"And you slipped him the mitten."</p>

-

-<p>"Well?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, don't think I'm blaming you," Hugo assured her. "If you don't

-want him, you don't. Nothing could be fairer than that. But what I'm

-asking you to do now is to keep clear of the poor chap. If you happen

-to run into him, that can't be helped, but be a sport and do your best

-to avoid him. Don't unsettle him. If you come buzzing round, stirring

-memories of the past and arousing thoughts of Auld Lang Syne and what

-not, that'll unsettle him. It'll take his mind off his job and ...

-well ... unsettle him. And, providing he isn't unsettled, I have strong

-hopes that we may get old John off this season. Do I make myself

-clear?"</p>

-

-<p>Pat kicked viciously at an inoffensive pebble, whose only fault was

-that it happened to be within reach at the moment.</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose what you're trying to break to me in your rambling,

-woollen-headed way is that Johnnie is mooning round that Molloy girl? I

-met her just now in Bywater's, and she told me she was staying at the

-Hall."</p>

-

-<p>"I wouldn't call it mooning," said Hugo thoughtfully, speaking like a

-man who is an expert in these matters and can appraise subtle values.

-"I wouldn't say it had quite reached the mooning stage yet. But I have

-hopes. You see, John is a bloke whom Nature intended for a married man.

-He's a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap who...."</p>

-

-<p>"You needn't go over all that again. I had the pleasure of hearing your

-views on the subject that night in the lobby of the hotel."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, you did hear?" said Hugo, unabashed. "Well, don't you think I'm

-right?"</p>

-

-<p>"If you mean do I approve of Johnnie marrying Miss Molloy, I certainly

-do not."</p>

-

-<p>"But if you don't want him...."</p>

-

-<p>"It has nothing to do with my wanting him or not wanting him. I don't

-like Miss Molloy."</p>

-

-<p>"Why not?"</p>

-

-<p>"She's flashy."</p>

-

-<p>"I would have said smart."</p>

-

-<p>"I wouldn't." Pat, with an effort, recovered a certain measure of calm.

-Wrangling, she felt, was beneath her. As she could not hit Hugo with

-the basket in which she had carried two pounds of tea, a bunch of

-roses, and a seed cake to her bedridden pensioner, the best thing to do

-was to preserve a ladylike composure. "Anyway, you're probably taking a

-lot for granted. Probably Johnnie isn't in the least attracted by her.

-Has he ever given any sign of it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sign?" Hugo considered. "It depends what you mean by sign. You know

-what old John is. One of these strong, silent fellows who looks on all

-occasions like a stuffed frog."</p>

-

-<p>"He doesn't."</p>

-

-<p>"Pardon me," said Hugo firmly. "Have you ever seen a stuffed frog?

-Well, I have. I had one for years when I was a kid. And John has

-exactly the same power of expressing emotion. You can't go by what he

-says or the way he looks. You have to keep an eye out for much subtler

-bits of evidence. Now, last night he was explaining the rules of

-cricket to this girl, and answering all her questions on the subject,

-and, as he didn't at any point in the proceeding punch her on the

-nose, one is entitled to deduce, I consider, that he must be strongly

-attracted by her. Ronnie thinks so, too. So what I'm asking you to

-do...."</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye," said Pat. They had reached the gate of the little drive

-that led to her house, and she turned sharply.</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye."</p>

-

-<p>"But just a moment," insisted Hugo. "Will you...."</p>

-

-<p>At this point he stopped in mid-sentence and began to walk quickly up

-the road; and Pat, puzzled to conjecture the reason for so abrupt a

-departure, received illumination a moment later when she saw her father

-coming down the drive. Colonel Wyvern had been dealing murderously with

-snails in the shadow of a bush, and the expression on his face seemed

-to indicate that he would be glad to extend the treatment to Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>He gazed after that officious young man with a steely eye. The second

-post had arrived a short time before, and it had included among a

-number of bills and circulars a letter from his lawyer, in which the

-latter regretfully gave it as his opinion that an action against Mr.

-Lester Carmody in the matter of that dynamite business would not lie.

-To bring such an action would, in the judgment of Colonel Wyvern's

-lawyer, be a waste both of time and money.</p>

-

-<p>The communication was not calculated to sweeten the Colonel's

-temper, nor did the spectacle of his daughter in apparently pleasant

-conversation with one of the enemy help to cheer him up.</p>

-

-<p>"What are you talking about to that fellow?" he demanded. It was rare

-for Colonel Wyvern to be the heavy father, but there are times when

-heaviness in a father is excusable. "Where did you meet him?"</p>

-

-<p>His tone disagreeably affected Pat's already harrowed nerves, but she

-replied to the question equably.</p>

-

-<p>"I met him on the bridge. We were talking about John."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, kindly understand that I don't want you to hold any

-communication whatsoever with that young man or his cousin John or his

-infernal uncle or any of that Hall gang. Is that clear?"</p>

-

-<p>Her father was looking at her as if she were a snail which he had just

-found eating one of his lettuce leaves, but Pat still contrived with

-some difficulty to preserve a pale, saintlike calm.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite clear."</p>

-

-<p>"Very well, then."</p>

-

-<p>There was a silence.</p>

-

-<p>"I've known Johnnie fourteen years," said Pat in a small voice.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite long enough," grunted Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>Pat walked on into the house and up the stairs to her room. There,

-having stamped on the basket and reduced it to a state where it would

-never again carry seed cake to ex-cooks, she sat on her bed and stared,

-dry-eyed, at her reflection in the mirror.</p>

-

-<p>What with Dolly Molloy and Hugo and her father, the whole aspect of

-John Carroll seemed to be changing for her. No longer was she able to

-think of him as Poor Old Johnnie. He had the glamour now of something

-unattainable and greatly to be desired. She looked back at a night,

-some centuries ago, when a fool of a girl had refused the offer of this

-superman's love, and shuddered to think what a mess of things girls can

-make.</p>

-

-<p>And she had no one to confide in. The only person who could have

-understood and sympathized with her was Hugo's glass-eyed money lender.

-He knew what it was to change one's outlook.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Alexander (Chimp) Twist stood with his shoulders against the

-mantelpiece in Mr. Carmody's study and, twirling his waxed moustache

-thoughtfully, listened with an expressionless face to Soapy Molloy's

-synopsis of the events which had led up to his being at the Hall

-that morning. Dolly reclined in a deep armchair. Mr. Carmody was not

-present, having stated that he would prefer to leave the negotiations

-entirely to Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>Through the open window the sounds and scents of summer poured in, but

-it is unlikely that Chimp Twist was aware of them. He was a man who

-believed in concentration, and his whole attention now was taken up by

-the remarkable facts which his old acquaintance and partner was placing

-before him.</p>

-

-<p>The latter's conversation on the telephone some two hours ago had left

-Chimp Twist with an open mind. He was hopeful, but cautiously hopeful.

-Soapy had insisted that there was a big thing on, but he had reserved

-his enthusiasm until he should learn the details. The thing, he felt,

-might seem big to Soapy, but to Alexander Twist no things were big

-things unless he could see in advance a substantial profit for A. Twist

-in them.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy, concluding his story, paused for reply. The visitor gave

-his moustache a final twist, and shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't get it," he said.</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Molloy straightened herself militantly in her chair. Of all

-masculine defects, she liked slowness of wit least; and she had never

-been a great admirer of Mr. Twist.</p>

-

-<p>"You poor, nut-headed swozzie," she said with heat. "What don't you

-get? It's simple enough, isn't it? What's bothering you?"</p>

-

-<p>"There's a catch somewhere. Why isn't this guy Carmody able to sell the

-things?"</p>

-

-<p>"It's the law, you poor fish. Soapy explained all that."</p>

-

-<p>"Not to me he didn't," said Chimp. "A lot of words fluttered out of

-him, but they didn't explain anything to me. Do you mean to say there's

-a law in this country that says a man can't sell his own property?"</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't his own property." Dolly's voice was shrill with

-exasperation. "The things belong in the family and have to be kept

-there. Does that penetrate, or have we got to use a steam drill? Listen

-here. Old George W. Ancestor starts one of these English families

-going—way back in the year G.X. something. He says to himself, 'I

-can't last forever, and when I go then what? My son Freddie is a good

-boy, handy with the battle axe and okay at mounting his charger, but

-he's like all the rest of these kids—you can't keep him away from the

-hock shop as long as there's anything in the house he can raise money

-on. It begins to look like the moment I'm gone my collection of old

-antiques can kiss itself good-bye.' And then he gets an idea. He has a

-law passed saying that Freddie can use the stuff as long as he lives

-but he can't sell it. And Freddie, when his time comes, he hands the

-law on to his son Archibald, and so on, down the line till you get to

-this here now Carmody. The only way this Carmody can realize on all

-these things is to sit in with somebody who'll pinch them and then salt

-them away somewheres, so that after the cops are out of the house and

-all the fuss has quieted down they can get together and do a deal."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp's face cleared.</p>

-

-<p>"Now I'm hep," he said. "Now I see what you're driving at. Why couldn't

-Soapy have put it like that before? Well, then, what's the idea? I

-sneak in and swipe the stuff. Then what?"</p>

-

-<p>"You salt it away."</p>

-

-<p>"At Healthward Ho?"</p>

-

-<p>"No!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"No!" said Mrs. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>It would have been difficult to say which spoke with the greater

-emphasis, and the effect was to create a rather embarrassing silence.</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't that we don't trust you, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, when this

-silence had lasted some little time.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said Mr. Twist, rather distantly.</p>

-

-<p>"It's simply that this bimbo Carmody naturally don't want the stuff to

-go out of the house. He wants it where he can keep an eye on it."</p>

-

-<p>"How are you going to pinch it without taking it out of the house?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's all been fixed. I was talking to him about it this morning

-after I 'phoned you. Here's the idea. You get the stuff and pack it

-away in a suitcase...."</p>

-

-<p>"Stuff that there's only enough of so's you can put it all in a

-suitcase is a hell of a lot of use to anyone," commented Mr. Twist

-disparagingly.</p>

-

-<p>Dolly clutched her temples. Mr. Molloy brushed his hair back from his

-forehead with a despairing gesture.</p>

-

-<p>"Sweet potatoes!" moaned Dolly. "Use your bean, you poor sap, use your

-bean. If you had another brain you'd just have one. A thing hasn't got

-to be the size of the Singer Building to be valuable, has it? I suppose

-if someone offered you a diamond you'd turn it down because it wasn't

-no bigger than a hen's egg."</p>

-

-<p>"Diamond?" Chimp brightened. "Are there diamonds?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, there aren't. But there's pictures and things, any one of them

-worth a packet. Go on, Soapy. Tell him."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy smoothed his hair and addressed himself to his task once

-more.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, it's like this, Chimpie," he said. "You put the stuff in a

-suitcase and you take it down into the hall where there's a closet

-under the stairs...."</p>

-

-<p>"We'll show you the closet," interjected Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>"Sure we'll show you the closet," said Mr. Molloy generously. "Well,

-you put the suitcase in this closet and you leave it lay there. The

-idea is that later on I give old man Carmody my cheque and he hands it

-over and we take it away."</p>

-

-<p>"He thinks Soapy owns a museum in America," explained Dolly. "He thinks

-Soapy's got all the money in the world."</p>

-

-<p>"Of course, long before the time comes for giving any cheques, we'll

-have got the stuff away."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Chimp digested this.</p>

-

-<p>"Who's going to buy it when you do get it away?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, gee!" said Dolly. "You know as well as I do there's dozens of

-people on the other side who'll buy it."</p>

-

-<p>"And how are you going to get it away? If it's in a closet in Carmody's

-house and Carmody has the key...?"</p>

-

-<p>"Now there," said Mr. Molloy, with a deferential glance at his wife, as

-if requesting her permission to re-open a delicate subject, "the madam

-and I had a kind of an argument. I wanted to wait till a chance came

-along sort of natural, but Dolly's all for quick action. You know what

-women are. Impetuous."</p>

-

-<p>"If you'd care to know what we're going to do," said Mrs. Molloy

-definitely, "we're not going to hang around waiting for any chances to

-come along sort of natural. We're going to slip a couple of knock-out

-drops in old man Carmody's port one night after dinner and clear out

-with the stuff while...."</p>

-

-<p>"Knock-out drops?" said Chimp, impressed. "Have you got any knock-out

-drops?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure we've got knock-out drops. Soapy never travels without them."</p>

-

-<p>"The madam always packs them in their little bottle first thing

-before even my clean collars," said Mr. Molloy proudly. "So you see,

-everything's all arranged, Chimpie."</p>

-

-<p>"Yeah?" said Mr. Twist, "and how about me?"</p>

-

-<p>"How do you mean, how about you?"</p>

-

-<p>"It seems to me," pointed out Mr. Twist, eyeing his business partner in

-rather an unpleasant manner with his beady little eyes, "that you're

-asking me to take a pretty big chance. While you're doping the old man

-I'll be twenty miles away at Healthward Ho. How am I to know you won't

-go off with the stuff and leave me to whistle for my share?"</p>

-

-<p>It is only occasionally that one sees a man who cannot believe his

-ears, but anybody who had been in Mr. Carmody's study at this moment

-would have been able to enjoy that interesting experience. A long

-moment of stunned and horrified amazement passed before Mr. Molloy was

-able to decide that he really had heard correctly.</p>

-

-<p>"Chimpie! You don't suppose we'd double-cross you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Ee-magine!" said Mrs. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, mind you don't," said Mr. Twist coldly. "But you can't say I'm

-not taking a chance. And now, talking turkey for a moment, how do we

-share?"</p>

-

-<p>"Equal shares, of course, Chimpie."</p>

-

-<p>"You mean half for me and half for you and Dolly?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy winced as if the mere suggestion had touched an exposed

-nerve.</p>

-

-<p>"No, no, no, Chimpie! You get a third, I get a third, and the madam

-gets a third."</p>

-

-<p>"Not on your life!"</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Not on your life. What do you think I am?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. Molloy acidly. "But, whatever it is, you're

-the only one of it."</p>

-

-<p>"Is that so?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, that is so."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, now, now," said Mr. Molloy, intervening. "Let's not get personal.

-I can't figure this thing out, Chimpie. I can't see where your kick

-comes in. You surely aren't suggesting that you should ought to have as

-much as I and the wife put together?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, I'm not. I'm suggesting I ought to have more."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Sixty-forty's my terms."</p>

-

-<p>A feverish cry rang through the room, a cry that came straight from a

-suffering heart. The temperamental Mrs. Molloy was very near the point

-past which a sensitive woman cannot be pushed.</p>

-

-<p>"Every time we get together on one of these jobs," she said, with deep

-emotion, "we always have this same fuss about the divvying up. Just

-when everything looks nice and settled you start this thing of trying

-to hand I and Soapy the nub end of the deal. What's the matter with you

-that you always want the earth? Be human, why can't you, you poor lump

-of Camembert."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm human all right."</p>

-

-<p>"You've got to prove it to me."</p>

-

-<p>"What makes you say I'm not human?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, look in the glass and see for yourself," said Mrs. Molloy

-offensively.</p>

-

-<p>The pacific Mr. Molloy felt it time to call the meeting to order once

-more.</p>

-

-<p>"Now, now, now! All this isn't getting us anywheres. Let's stick to

-business. Where do you get that sixty-forty stuff, Chimp?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you where I get it. I'm going into this thing as a favour,

-aren't I? There's no need for me to sit in at this game at all, is

-there? I've got a good, flourishing, respectable business of my own,

-haven't I? A business that's on the level. Well, then."</p>

-

-<p>Dolly sniffed. Her husband's soothing intervention had failed signally

-to diminish her animosity.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know what your idea was in starting that Healthward Ho

-joint," she said, "but I'll bet my diamond sunburst it isn't on the

-level."</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly it's on the level. A man with brains can always make a good

-living without descending to anything low and crooked. That's why I say

-that if I go into this thing it will simply be because I want to do a

-favour to two old friends."</p>

-

-<p>"Old what?"</p>

-

-<p>"Friends was what I said," repeated Mr. Twist. "If you don't like my

-terms, say so and we'll call the deal off. It'll be all right by me.

-I'll simply get along back to Healthward Ho and go on running my good,

-flourishing, respectable business. Come to think of it, I'm not any too

-solid on this thing, anyway. I was walking in my garden this morning

-and a magpie come up to me as close as that."</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Molloy expressed the view that this was tough on the magpie, but

-wanted to know what the bird's misfortune in finding itself so close to

-Mr. Twist that it could not avoid taking a good, square look at him had

-to do with the case.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I'm superstitious, same as everyone else. I saw the new moon

-through the glass, what's more."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, stop stringing the beads and talk sense," said Dolly wearily.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm talking sense all right. Sixty per cent. or I don't come in. You

-wouldn't have asked me to come in if you could have done without me.

-Think I don't know that? Sixty's moderate. I'm doing all the hard work,

-aren't I?"</p>

-

-<p>"Hard work?" Dolly laughed bitterly. "Where do you get the idea it's

-going to be hard work? Everybody'll be out of the house on the night

-of this concert thing they're having down in the village, there'll be

-a window left open, and you'll just walk in and pack up the stuff. If

-that's hard, what's easy? We're simply handing you slathers of money

-for practically doing nothing."</p>

-

-<p>"Sixty," said Mr. Twist. "And that's my last word."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Chimpie ..." pleaded Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Sixty."</p>

-

-<p>"Have a heart!"</p>

-

-<p>"Sixty."</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't as though ..."</p>

-

-<p>"Sixty."</p>

-

-<p>Dolly threw up her hands despairingly.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, give it him," she said. "He won't be happy if you don't. If a

-guy's middle name is Shylock, where's the use wasting time trying to do

-anything about it?"</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Molloy's prediction that on the night of Rudge's annual dramatic

-and musical entertainment the Hall would be completely emptied of its

-occupants was not, as it happened, literally fulfilled. A wanderer

-through the stable yard at about the hour of ten would have perceived a

-light in an upper window: and had he taken the trouble to get a ladder

-and climb up and look in would have beheld John Carroll seated at his

-table, busy with a pile of accounts.</p>

-

-<p>In an age so notoriously avid of pleasure as the one in which we live

-it is rare to find a young man of such sterling character that he

-voluntarily absents himself from a village concert in order to sit at

-home and work: and, contemplating John, one feels quite a glow. It was

-not as if he had been unaware of what he was missing. The vicar, he

-knew, was to open the proceedings with a short address: the choir would

-sing old English glees: the Misses Vivien and Alice Pond-Pond were down

-on the programme for refined coon songs: and, in addition to other

-items too numerous and fascinating to mention, Hugo Carmody and his

-friend Mr. Fish would positively appear in person and render that noble

-example of Shakespeare's genius, the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i>.

-Yet John Carroll sat in his room, working. England's future cannot be

-so dubious as the pessimists would have us believe while her younger

-generation is made of stuff like this.</p>

-

-<p>John was finding in his work these days a good deal of consolation.

-There is probably no better corrective of the pangs of hopeless love

-than real, steady application to the prosaic details of an estate. The

-heart finds it difficult to ache its hardest while the mind is busy

-with such items as Sixty-one pounds, eight shillings and fivepence, due

-to Messrs. Truby and Gaunt for Fixing Gas Engine, or the claim of the

-Country Gentlemen's Association for eight pounds eight and fourpence

-for seeds. Add drains, manure, and feed of pigs, and you find yourself

-immediately in an atmosphere where Romeo himself would have let his

-mind wander. John, as he worked, was conscious of a distinct easing of

-the strain which had been on him since his return to the Hall. And if

-at intervals he allowed his eyes to stray to the photograph of Pat on

-the mantelpiece, that was the sort of thing that might happen to any

-young man, and could not be helped.</p>

-

-<p>It was seldom that visitors penetrated to this room of his—indeed, he

-had chosen to live above the stables in preference to inside the house

-for this very reason, and on Rudge's big night he had looked forward to

-an unbroken solitude. He was surprised, therefore, as he checked the

-account of the Messrs. Vanderschoot &amp; Son for bulbs, to hear footsteps

-on the stairs. A moment later, the door had opened and Hugo walked in.</p>

-

-<p>John's first impulse, as always when his cousin paid him a visit, was

-to tell him to get out. People who, when they saw Hugo, immediately

-told him to get out generally had the comfortable feeling that they

-were doing the right and sensible thing. But to-night there was in his

-demeanour something so crushed and forlorn that John had not the heart

-to pursue this admirable policy.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo," he said. "I thought you were down at the concert."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo uttered a short, bitter laugh, and, sinking into a chair, stared

-bleakly before him. His eyelids, like those of the Mona Lisa, were a

-little weary. He looked like the hero of a Russian novel debating the

-advisability of murdering a few near relations before hanging himself

-in the barn.</p>

-

-<p>"I was," he said. "Oh yes, I was down at the concert all right."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you done your bit already?"</p>

-

-<p>"I have. They put Ronnie and me on just after the Vicar's Short

-Address."</p>

-

-<p>"Wanted to get the worst over quick, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo raised a protesting hand. There was infinite sadness in the

-gesture.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't mock, John. Don't jeer. Don't jibe and scoff. I'm a broken man."</p>

-

-<p>"Only cracked, I should have said."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo was not attuned to cousinly badinage. He frowned austerely.</p>

-

-<p>"Less back-chat," he begged. "I came here for sympathy. And a drink.

-Have you got anything to drink?"</p>

-

-<p>"There's some whisky in that cupboard."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo heaved himself from the chair, looking more Russian than ever.

-John watched his operations with some concern.</p>

-

-<p>"Aren't you mixing it pretty strong?"</p>

-

-<p>"I need it strong." The unhappy man emptied his glass, refilled it, and

-returned to the chair. "In fact, it's a point verging very much on the

-moot whether I ought to have put any water in it at all."</p>

-

-<p>"What's the trouble?"</p>

-

-<p>"This isn't bad whisky," said Hugo, becoming a little brighter.</p>

-

-<p>"I know it isn't. What's the matter?"</p>

-

-<p>The momentary flicker of cheerfulness died out. Gloom once more claimed

-Hugo for its own.</p>

-

-<p>"John, old man," he said. "We got the bird."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>"Don't say 'Yes?' like that, as if you had expected it," said Hugo,

-hurt. "The thing came on me as a stunning blow. I was amazed.

-Astounded. Absolutely nonplussed."</p>

-

-<p>"Could I have knocked you down with a feather?"</p>

-

-<p>"I thought we were going to be a riot. Of course, mind you, we came on

-much too early. It was criminal to bill us next to opening. An audience

-needs careful warming up for an intellectual act like ours!"</p>

-

-<p>"What happened?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo rose and renewed the contents of his glass.</p>

-

-<p>"There is a spirit creeping into the life of Rudge-in-the-Vale," he

-said, "which I don't like to see. A spirit of lawlessness and licence.

-Disruptive influences are at work. Bolshevik propaganda, I shouldn't

-wonder. Would a Rudge audience have given me the bird a few years ago?

-Not a chance!"</p>

-

-<p>"But you've never tried them with the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i>

-before. Everybody has a breaking point."</p>

-

-<p>The argument was specious, but Hugo shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"In the good old days I could have done Hamlet's Soliloquy, and

-the hall would have rung with hearty cheers. It's just this modern

-lawlessness and Bolshevism. There was a very tough collection of the

-Budd Street element standing at the back, who should never have been

-let in. They started straight away chi-yiking the vicar during his

-short address. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I merely

-supposed that they wanted him to cheese it and let the entertainment

-start. I thought that directly Ronnie and I came on we should grip

-them. But we were barely a third of the way through when there were

-loud cries of 'Tripe!' and 'Get off!'"</p>

-

-<p>"I see what that meant. You hadn't gripped them."</p>

-

-<p>"I was never so surprised in my life. Mark you, I'll admit that

-Ronnie was perfectly rotten. He kept foozling his lines and saying

-'Oh, sorry!' and going back and repeating them. You can't get the

-best out of Shakespeare that way. The fact is, poor old Ronnie is

-feeling a little low just now. He got a letter this morning from his

-man, Bessemer, in London, a fellow who has been with him for years

-and has few equals as a trouser presser, springing the news out of an

-absolutely clear sky that he's been secretly engaged for weeks and is

-just going to get married and leave Ronnie. Naturally, it has upset the

-poor chap badly. With a thing like that on his mind, he should never

-have attempted an exacting part like Brutus in the Quarrel Scene."</p>

-

-<p>"Just what the audience thought, apparently. What happened after that?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, we buzzed along as well as we could, and we had just got to that

-bit about digesting the venom of your spleen though it do split you,

-when the proletariat suddenly started bunging vegetables."</p>

-

-<p>"Vegetables?"</p>

-

-<p>"Turnips, mostly, as far as I could gather. Now, do you see the

-significance of that, John?"</p>

-

-<p>"How do you mean, the significance?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, obviously these blighters had come prepared. They had meant to

-make trouble right along. If not, why would they have come to a concert

-with their pockets bulging with turnips?"</p>

-

-<p>"They probably knew by instinct that they would need them."</p>

-

-<p>"No! It was simply this bally Bolshevism one reads so much about."</p>

-

-<p>"You think these men were in the pay of Moscow?"</p>

-

-<p>"I shouldn't wonder. Well, that took us off. Ronnie got rather a beefy

-whack on the side of the head and exited rapidly. And I wasn't going to

-stand out there doing the Quarrel Scene by myself, so I exited, too.

-The last I saw, Chas. Bywater had gone on and was telling Irish dialect

-stories with a Swedish accent."</p>

-

-<p>"Did they throw turnips at him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not one. That's the sinister part of it. That's what makes me so sure

-the thing was an organized outbreak and all part of this Class War you

-hear about. Chas. Bywater, in spite of the fact that his material was

-blue round the edges, goes like a breeze, and gets off without a single

-turnip, whereas Ronnie and I ... well," said Hugo, a hideous grimness

-in his voice, "this has settled one thing. I've performed for the last

-time for Rudge-in-the-Vale. Next year when they may come to me, and

-plead with me to help out with the programme, I shall reply, 'Not after

-what has occurred!' Well, thanks for the drink. I'll be buzzing along."

-Hugo rose and wandered somnambulistically to the table. "What are you

-doing?"</p>

-

-<p>"Working."</p>

-

-<p>"Working?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, working."</p>

-

-<p>"What at?"</p>

-

-<p>"Accounts. Stop fiddling with those papers, curse you."</p>

-

-<p>"What's this thing?"</p>

-

-<p>"That," said John, removing it from his listless grasp and putting it

-out of reach in a drawer, "is the diagram of a thing called an Alpha

-Separator. It works by centrifugal force and can separate two thousand

-seven hundred and twenty-four quarts of milk in an hour. It has also

-a Holstein butter-churner attachment, and a boiler which at seventy

-degrees centigrade destroys the obligatory and optional bacteria."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?</p>

-

-<p>"Positively."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? Well, damn it, anyway," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>Hugo crossed the strip of gravel which lay between the stable yard and

-the house, and, having found in his trouser pocket the key of the back

-door, proceeded to let himself in. His objective was the dining room.

-He was feeling so much better after the refreshment of which he had

-just partaken that reason told him he had found the right treatment for

-his complaint. A few more swift ones from the cellarette in the dining

-room and the depression caused by the despicable behaviour of the Budd

-Street Bolshevists might possibly leave him altogether.</p>

-

-<p>The passage leading to his goal was in darkness, but he moved steadily

-forward. Occasionally a chair would dart from its place to crack him

-over the shin, but he was not to be kept from the cellarette by trifles

-like that. Soon his fingers were on the handle of the door, and he

-flung it open and entered. And it was at this moment that there came to

-his ears an odd noise.</p>

-

-<p>It was not the noise itself that was odd. Feet scraping on gravel

-always make that unmistakable sound. What impressed itself on Hugo

-as curious was the fact that on the gravel outside the dining-room

-window, feet at this hour should be scraping at all. His hand had been

-outstretched to switch on the light, but now he paused. He waited,

-listening. And presently in the oblong of the middle of the three large

-windows he saw dimly against the lesser darkness outside a human body.

-It was insinuating itself through the opening and what Hugo felt about

-it was that he liked its dashed nerve.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo Carmody was no poltroon. Both physically and morally he possessed

-more than the normal store of courage. At Cambridge he had boxed for

-his university in the light-weight division and once, in London, the

-petty cash having run short, he had tipped a hat-check boy with an

-aspirin tablet. Moreover, although it was his impression that the few

-drops of whisky which he had drunk in John's room had but scratched

-the surface, their effect in reality had been rather pronounced. "In

-some diatheses," an eminent physician has laid down, "whisky is not

-immediately pathogenic. In other cases the spirit in question produces

-marked cachexia." Hugo's cachexia was very marked indeed. He would

-have resented keenly the suggestion that he was fried, boiled, or even

-sozzled, but he was unquestionably in a definite condition of cachexia.</p>

-

-<p>In a situation, accordingly, in which many householders might have

-quailed, he was filled with gay exhilaration. He felt able and willing

-to chew the head off any burglar that ever packed a centrebit. Glowing

-with cachexia and the spirit of adventure, he switched on the light

-and found himself standing face to face with a small, weedy man beneath

-whose snub nose there nestled a waxed moustache.</p>

-

-<p>"Stand ho!" said Hugo jubilantly, falling at once into the vein of the

-Quarrel Scene.</p>

-

-<p>In the bosom of the intruder many emotions were competing for

-precedence, but jubilation was not one of them. If Mr. Twist had had

-a weak heart, he would by now have been lying on the floor breathing

-his last, for few people can ever have had a nastier shock. He stood

-congealed, blinking at Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo, meanwhile, had made the interesting discovery that it was no

-stranger who stood before him but an old acquaintance.</p>

-

-<p>"Great Scot!" he exclaimed. "Old Doc. Twist! The beautiful,

-tranquil-thoughts bird!" He chuckled joyously. His was a retentive

-memory, and he could never forget that this man had once come within an

-ace of ruining that big deal in cigarettes over at Healthward Ho, and

-had also callously refused to lend him a tenner. Of such a man he could

-believe anything, even that he combined with the duties of a physical

-culture expert a little housebreaking and burglary on the side. "Well,

-well, well!" said Hugo. "Remember March, the Ides of March remember!

-Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his

-body that did stab and not for justice? Answer me that, you blighter,

-yes or no."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp Twist licked his lips nervously. He was a little uncertain as to

-the exact import of his companion's last words, but almost any words

-would have found in him at this moment a distrait listener.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes!" said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp could have done the same. With an intense bitterness he was

-regretting that he had ever allowed Mr. Molloy to persuade him into

-this rash venture. But he was a man of resource. He made an effort to

-mend matters. Soapy, in a similar situation, would have done it better,

-but Chimp, though not possessing his old friend's glib tongue and

-insinuating manners, did the best he could. "You startled me," he said,

-smiling a sickly smile.</p>

-

-<p>"I bet I did," agreed Hugo cordially.</p>

-

-<p>"I came to see your uncle."</p>

-

-<p>"You what?"</p>

-

-<p>"I came to see your uncle."</p>

-

-<p>"Twist, you lie! And, what is more, you lie in your teeth."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, see here...!" began Chimp, with a feeble attempt at belligerence.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo checked him with a gesture.</p>

-

-<p>"There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am armed so

-strong in honesty that they pass by me like the idle wind, which I

-respect not. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be

-frightened when a madman stares? By the gods, you shall digest the

-venom of your spleen though it do split you. And what could be fairer

-than that?" said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist was discouraged, but he persevered.</p>

-

-<p>"I guess it looked funny to you, seeing me come in through a window.

-But, you see, I rang the front door bell and couldn't seem to make

-anyone hear."</p>

-

-<p>"Away, slight man!"</p>

-

-<p>"You want me to go away?" said Mr. Twist, with a gleam of hope.</p>

-

-<p>"You stay where you are, unless you'd like me to lean a decanter of the

-best port up against your head," said Hugo. "And don't flicker," he

-added, awakening to another grievance against this unpleasant little

-man.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't what?" inquired Mr. Twist, puzzled but anxious to oblige.</p>

-

-<p>"Flicker. Your outline keeps wobbling, and I don't like it. And there's

-another thing about you that I don't like. I've forgotten what it is

-for the moment, but it'll come back to me soon."</p>

-

-<p>He frowned darkly: and for the first time it was borne in upon Mr.

-Twist that his young host was not altogether himself. There was a gleam

-in his eyes which, in Mr. Twist's opinion, was far too wild to be

-agreeable.</p>

-

-<p>"I know," said Hugo, having reflected. "It's your moustache."</p>

-

-<p>"My moustache?"</p>

-

-<p>"Or whatever it is that's broken out on your upper lip. I dislike it

-intensely. When Cæsar lived," said Hugo querulously, "he durst not thus

-have moved me. And the worst thing of all is that you should have taken

-a quiet, harmless country house and called it such a beastly, repulsive

-name as Healthward Ho. Great Scot!" exclaimed Hugo. "I knew there was

-something I was forgetting. All this while you ought to have been doing

-bending and stretching exercises!"</p>

-

-<p>"Your uncle, I guess, is still down at the concert thing in the

-village?" said Mr. Twist, weakly endeavouring to change the

-conversation.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo started. A look of the keenest suspicion flashed into his eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"Were you at that concert?" he said sternly.</p>

-

-<p>"Me? No."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you sure, Twist? Look me in the face."</p>

-

-<p>"I've never been near any concert."</p>

-

-<p>"I strongly suspect you," said Hugo, "of being one of the ringleaders

-in that concerted plot to give me the bird. I think I recognized you."</p>

-

-<p>"Not me."</p>

-

-<p>"You're sure?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? Well, that doesn't alter the cardinal fact that you are the

-bloke who makes poor, unfortunate fat men do bending and stretching

-exercises. So do a few now yourself."</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Bend!" said Hugo. "Stretch!"</p>

-

-<p>"Stretch?"</p>

-

-<p>"And bend," said Hugo, insisting on full measure. "First bend, then

-stretch. Let me see your chest expand and hear the tinkle of buttons as

-you burst your waistcoat asunder."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist was now definitely of opinion that the gleam in the young

-man's eyes was one of the most unpleasant and menacing things he had

-ever encountered. Transferring his gaze from this gleam to the other's

-well-knit frame, he decided that he was in the presence of one who,

-whether his singular request was due to weakness of intellect or to

-alcohol, had best be humoured.</p>

-

-<p>"Get on with it," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>He settled himself in a chair and lighted a cigarette. His whole

-manner was suggestive of the blasé nonchalance of a sultan about to

-be entertained by the court acrobat. But, though his bearing was

-nonchalant, that gleam was still in his eyes, and Chimp Twist hesitated

-no longer. He bent, as requested—and then, having bent, stretched. For

-some moments he jerked his limbs painfully in this direction and in

-that, while Hugo, puffing smoke, surveyed him with languid appreciation.</p>

-

-<p>"Now tie yourself into a reefer knot," said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp gritted his teeth. A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering

-happier things, and there came back to him the recollection of mornings

-when he had stood at his window and laughed heartily at the spectacle

-of his patients at Healthward Ho being hounded on to these very

-movements by the vigilant Sergeant Flannery. How little he had supposed

-that there would ever come a time when he would be compelled himself to

-perform these exercises. And how little he had guessed at the hideous

-discomfort which they could cause to a man who had let his body muscles

-grow stiff.</p>

-

-<p>"Wait," said Hugo, suddenly.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist was glad to do so. He straightened himself, breathing heavily.</p>

-

-<p>"Are you thinking beautiful thoughts?"</p>

-

-<p>Chimp Twist gulped. "Yes," he said, with a strong effort.</p>

-

-<p>"Beautiful, tranquil thoughts?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Then carry on."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp resumed his calisthenics. He was aching in every joint now, but

-into his discomfort there had shot a faint gleam of hope. Everything in

-this world has its drawbacks and its advantages. With the drawbacks to

-his present situation he had instantly become acquainted, but now at

-last one advantage presented itself to his notice—the fact, to wit,

-that the staggerings and totterings inseparable from a performance

-of the kind with which he was entertaining his limited but critical

-audience had brought him very near to the open window.</p>

-

-<p>"How are the thoughts?" asked Hugo. "Still beautiful?"</p>

-

-<p>Chimp said they were, and he spoke sincerely. He had contrived to put

-a space of several feet between himself and his persecutor, and the

-window gaped invitingly almost at his side.</p>

-

-<p>"Yours," said Hugo, puffing smoke meditatively, "has been a very happy

-life, Twist. Day after day you have had the privilege of seeing my

-uncle Lester doing just what you're doing now, and it must have beaten

-a circus hollow. It's funny enough even when you do it, and you haven't

-anything like his personality and appeal. If you could see what a

-priceless ass you look it would keep you giggling for weeks. I know,"

-said Hugo, receiving an inspiration; "do the one where you touch your

-toes without bending the knees."</p>

-

-<p>In all human affairs the semblance of any given thing is bound to vary

-considerably with the point of view. To Chimp Twist, as he endeavoured

-to comply with this request, it seemed incredible that what he was

-doing could strike anyone as humorous. To Hugo, on the other hand,

-it appeared as if the entertainment had now reached its apex of

-wholesome fun. As Mr. Twist's purple face came up for the third time,

-he abandoned himself whole-heartedly to mirth. He rocked in his chair,

-and, rashly trying to inhale cigarette smoke at the same time, found

-himself suddenly overcome by a paroxysm of coughing.</p>

-

-<p>It was the moment for which Chimp Twist had been waiting. There is,

-as Ronnie Fish would have observed in the village hall an hour or so

-earlier if the audience had had the self-restraint to let him get as

-far as that, a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood,

-leads on to fortune. Chimp did not neglect the opportunity which

-Fate had granted him. With an agile bound he was at the window, and,

-rendered supple, no doubt, by his recent exercises, leaped smartly

-through it.</p>

-

-<p>He descended heavily on the dog Emily. Emily, wandering out for a

-last stroll before turning in, had just paused beneath the window to

-investigate a smell which had been called to her attention on the

-gravel. She was trying to make up her mind whether it was rats or the

-ghost of a long-lost bone when the skies suddenly started raining heavy

-bodies on her.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">V</p>

-

-<p>Emily was a dog who, as a rule, took things as they came, her guiding

-motto in life being the old Horatian <i>nil admirari</i>, but she could

-lose her poise. She lost it now. A startled oath escaped her, and

-for a brief instant she was completely unequal to the situation. In

-this instant, Chimp, equally startled but far too busy to stop, had

-disengaged himself and was vanishing into the darkness.</p>

-

-<p>A moment later Hugo came through the window. His coughing fit had spent

-itself, and he was now in good voice again. He was shouting.</p>

-

-<p>At once Emily became herself again. All her sporting blood stirred in

-answer to these shouts. She forgot her agony. Her sense of grievance

-left her. Recognizing Hugo, she saw all things clearly, and realized

-in a flash that here at last was the burglar for whom she had been

-waiting ever since her conversation with that wire-haired terrier over

-at Webleigh Manor.</p>

-

-<p>John had taken her to lunch there one day and, fraternizing with

-the Webleigh dog under the table, she had immediately noticed in

-his manner something aloof and distinctly patronizing. It had then

-come out in conversation that they had had a burglary at the Manor

-a couple of nights ago, and the wire-haired terrier, according to

-his own story, had been the hero of the occasion. He spoke with an

-ill-assumed offhandedness of barking and bitings and chasings in the

-night, and, though he did not say it in so many words, gave Emily

-plainly to understand that it took an unusual dog to grapple with such

-a situation, and that in a similar crisis she herself would inevitably

-be found wanting. Ever since that day she had been longing for a chance

-to show her mettle, and now it had come. Calling instructions in a high

-voice, she raced for the bushes into which Chimp had disappeared. Hugo,

-a bad third, brought up the rear of the procession.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp, meanwhile, had been combining with swift movement some very

-rapid thinking. Fortune had been with him in the first moments of this

-dash for safety, but now, he considered, it had abandoned him, and he

-must trust to his native intelligence to see him through. He had not

-anticipated dogs. Dogs altered the whole complexion of the affair. To

-a go-as-you-please race across country with Hugo he would have trusted

-himself, but Hugo in collaboration with a dog was another matter. It

-became now a question not of speed but of craft; and he looked about

-him, as he ran, for a hiding place, for some shelter from this canine

-and human storm which he had unwittingly aroused.</p>

-

-<p>And Fortune, changing sides again, smiled upon him once more. Emily,

-who had been coming nicely, attempted very injudiciously at this

-moment to take a short cut and became involved in a bush. And Chimp,

-accelerating an always active brain, perceived a way out. There was a

-low stone wall immediately in front of him, and beyond it, as he came

-up, he saw the dull gleam of water.</p>

-

-<p>It was not an ideal haven, but he was in no position to pick and

-choose. The interior of the tank from which the gardeners drew

-ammunition for their watering cans had, for one who from childhood had

-always disliked bathing, a singularly repellent air. Those dark, oily

-looking depths suggested the presence of frogs, newts, and other slimy

-things that work their way down a man's back and behave clammily around

-his spine. But it was most certainly a place of refuge.</p>

-

-<p>He looked over his shoulder. An agitated crackling of branches

-announced that Emily had not yet worked clear, and Hugo had apparently

-stopped to render first aid. With a silent shudder Chimp stepped into

-the tank and, lowering himself into the depths, nestled behind a water

-lily.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo was finding the task of extricating Emily more difficult than he

-had anticipated. The bush was one of those thorny, adhesive bushes, and

-it twined itself lovingly in Emily's hair. Bad feeling began to rise,

-and the conversation took on an acrimonious tone.</p>

-

-<p>"Stand still!" growled Hugo. "Stand still, you blighter dog."</p>

-

-<p>"Push," retorted Emily. "Push, I tell you! Push, not pull. Don't you

-realize that all the while we're wasting time here that fellow's

-getting away?"</p>

-

-<p>"Don't wriggle, confound you. How can I get you out if you keep

-wriggling?"</p>

-

-<p>"Try a lift in an upward direction. No, that's no good. Stop pushing

-and pull. Pull, I tell you. Pull not push. Now, when I say '<i>To</i>

-you ...'"</p>

-

-<p>Something gave. Hugo staggered back. Emily sprang from his grasp. The

-chase was on again.</p>

-

-<p>But now all the zest had gone out of it. The operations in the bush

-had occupied only a bare couple of minutes, but they had been enough

-to allow the quarry to vanish. He had completely disappeared. Hugo,

-sitting on the wall of the tank and trying to recover his breath,

-watched Emily as she darted to and fro, inspecting paths and drawing

-shrubberies, and knew that he had failed. It was a bitter moment, and

-he sat and smoked moodily. Presently even Emily gave the thing up. She

-came back to where Hugo sat, her tongue lolling, and disgust written

-all over her expressive features. There was a silence. Emily thought

-it was all Hugo's fault, Hugo thought it was Emily's. A stiffness had

-crept into their relations once again, and when at length Hugo, feeling

-a little more benevolent after three cigarettes, reached down and

-scratched Emily's head, the latter drew away coldly.</p>

-

-<p>"Damn fool!" she said.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo started. Was it some sound, some distant stealthy footstep, that

-had caused his companion to speak? He stared into the night.</p>

-

-<p>"Fat head!" said Emily. "Can't even pull somebody out of a bush."</p>

-

-<p>She laughed mirthlessly, and Hugo, now keenly on the alert, rose from

-his seat and gazed this way and that. And then, moving softly away from

-him at the end of the path, he saw a dark figure.</p>

-

-<p>Instantly, Hugo Carmody became once more the man of action. With a

-stern shout he dashed along the path. And he had not gone half a dozen

-feet when the ground seemed suddenly to give way under him.</p>

-

-<p>This path, as he should have remembered, knowing the terrain as he

-did, was a terrace path, set high above the shrubberies below. It was

-a simple enough matter to negotiate it in daylight and at a gentle

-stroll, but to race successfully along it in the dark required a

-Blondin. Hugo's third stride took him well into the abyss. He clutched

-out desperately, grasped only cool Worcestershire night air, and then,

-rolling down the slope, struck his head with great violence against a

-tree which seemed to have been put there for the purpose.</p>

-

-<p>When the sparks had cleared away and the firework exhibition was over,

-he rose painfully to his feet.</p>

-

-<p>A voice was speaking from above—the voice of Ronald Overbury Fish.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo!" said the voice. "What's up?"</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">VI</p>

-

-<p>Weighed down by the burden of his many sorrows, Ronnie Fish had come

-to this terrace path to be alone. Solitude was what he desired, and

-solitude was what he supposed he had got until, abruptly, without any

-warning but a wild shout, the companion of his school and university

-days had suddenly dashed out from empty space and apparently attempted

-to commit suicide. Ronnie was surprised. Naturally no fellow likes

-getting the bird at a village concert, but Hugo, he considered, in

-trying to kill himself was adopting extreme measures. He peered down,

-going so far in his natural emotion as to remove the cigarette holder

-from his mouth.</p>

-

-<p>"What's up?" he asked again.</p>

-

-<p>Hugo was struggling dazedly up the bank.</p>

-

-<p>"Was that you, Ronnie?"</p>

-

-<p>"Was what me?"</p>

-

-<p>"That."</p>

-

-<p>"Which?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo approached the matter from another angle.</p>

-

-<p>"Did you see anyone?"</p>

-

-<p>"When?"</p>

-

-<p>"Just now. I thought I saw someone on the path. It must have been you."</p>

-

-<p>"It was. Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"I thought it was somebody else."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, it wasn't."</p>

-

-<p>"I know, but I thought it was."</p>

-

-<p>"Who did you think it was?"</p>

-

-<p>"A fellow called Twist."</p>

-

-<p>"Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Twist."</p>

-

-<p>"Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've been chasing him."</p>

-

-<p>"Chasing Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. I caught him burgling the house."</p>

-

-<p>They had been walking along, and now reached a spot where the light,

-freed from overhanging branches, was stronger. Mr. Fish became aware

-that his friend had sustained injuries.</p>

-

-<p>"I say," he said, "you've hurt your head."</p>

-

-<p>"I know I've hurt my head, you silly ass."</p>

-

-<p>"It's bleeding, I mean."</p>

-

-<p>"Bleeding?"</p>

-

-<p>"Bleeding."</p>

-

-<p>Blood is always interesting. Hugo put a hand to his wound, took it away

-again, inspected it.</p>

-

-<p>"By Jove! I'm bleeding."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, bleeding. You'd better go in and have it seen to."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Hugo reflected. "I'll go and get old John to fix it. He once put

-six stitches in a cow."</p>

-

-<p>"What cow?"</p>

-

-<p>"One of the cows. I forget its name."</p>

-

-<p>"Where do we find this John?"</p>

-

-<p>"He's in his room over the stables."</p>

-

-<p>"Can you walk it all right?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh yes, rather,"</p>

-

-<p>Ronnie, relieved, lighted a cigarette, and approached an aspect of the

-affair which had been giving him food for thought.</p>

-

-<p>"I say, Hugo, have you been having a few drinks or anything?"</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, buzzing about the place after non-existent burglars."</p>

-

-<p>"They weren't non-existent. I tell you I caught this man Twist...."</p>

-

-<p>"How do you know it was Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've met him."</p>

-

-<p>"Who? Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Where?"</p>

-

-<p>"He runs a place called Healthward Ho near here."</p>

-

-<p>"What's Healthward Ho?"</p>

-

-<p>"It's a place where fellows go to get fit. My uncle was there."</p>

-

-<p>"And Twist runs it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"And you think this—dash it, this pillar of society was burgling the

-house?"</p>

-

-<p>"I caught him, I tell you."</p>

-

-<p>"Who? Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, where is he, then?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know."</p>

-

-<p>"Listen, old man," said Ronnie gently. "I think you'd better be pushing

-along and getting that bulb of yours repaired."</p>

-

-<p>He remained gazing after his friend, as he disappeared in the direction

-of the stable yard, with much concern. He hated to think of good old

-Hugo getting into a mental state like this, though, of course, it was

-only what you could expect if a man lived in the country all the time.

-He was still brooding when he heard footsteps behind him and looked

-round and saw Mr. Lester Carmody approaching.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody was in a condition which in a slimmer man might have

-been called fluttering. He, like John, had absented himself from the

-festivities in the village, wishing to be on the spot when Mr. Twist

-made his entry into the house. He had seen Chimp get through the

-dining-room window and had instantly made his way to the front hall,

-proposing to wait there and see the precious suitcase duly deposited

-in the cupboard under the stairs. He had waited, but no Chimp had

-appeared. And then there had come to his ears barkings and shoutings

-and uproar in the night. Mr. Carmody, like Othello, was perplexed in

-the extreme.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, Carmody," said Mr. Fish.</p>

-

-<p>He waved a kindly cigarette holder at his host. The latter regarded

-him with tense apprehension. Was his guest about to announce that

-Mr. Twist, caught in the act, was now under lock and key? For some

-reason or other, it was plain, Hugo and this unspeakable friend of his

-had returned at an unexpectedly early hour from the village, and Mr.

-Carmody feared the worst.</p>

-

-<p>"I've got a bit of bad news for you, Carmody," said Mr. Fish. "Brace

-up, my dear fellow."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody gulped.</p>

-

-<p>"What—what—what...."</p>

-

-<p>"Poor old Hugo. Gone clean off his mental axis."</p>

-

-<p>"What! What do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"I found him just now running round in circles and dashing his head

-against trees. He said he was chasing a burglar. Of course there wasn't

-anything of the sort on the premises. For, mark this, my dear Carmody:

-according to his statement, which I carefully checked, the burglar was

-a most respectable fellow named Twist, who runs a sort of health place

-near here. You know him, I believe?"</p>

-

-<p>"Slightly," said Mr. Carmody. "Slightly."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, would a man in that position go about burgling houses? Pure

-delusion, of course."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody breathed a deep sigh. Relief had made him feel a little

-faint.</p>

-

-<p>"Undoubtedly," he said. "Hugo was always weak-minded from a boy."</p>

-

-<p>"By the way," said Mr. Fish, "did you by any chance get up at five in

-the morning the other day and climb a ladder to look for swallows'

-nests?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly not."</p>

-

-<p>"I thought as much. Hugo said he saw you. Delusion again. The whole

-truth of the matter is, my dear Carmody, living in the country has

-begun to soften poor old Hugo's brain. You must act swiftly. You don't

-want a gibbering nephew about the place. Take my tip and send him away

-to London at the earliest possible moment."</p>

-

-<p>It was rare for Lester Carmody to feel gratitude for the advice

-which this young man gave him so freely, but he was grateful now. He

-perceived clearly that a venture like the one on which he and his

-colleagues had embarked should never have been undertaken while the

-house was full of infernal, interfering young men. Such was his emotion

-that for an instant he almost liked Mr. Fish.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo was saying that you wished him to become your partner in some

-commercial enterprise," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"A night club. The Hot Spot. Situated just off Bond Street, in the

-heart of London's pleasure-seeking area."</p>

-

-<p>"You were going to give him a half share for five hundred pounds, I

-believe?"</p>

-

-<p>"Five hundred was the figure."</p>

-

-<p>"He shall have the cheque immediately," said Mr. Carmody. "I will go

-and write it now. And to-morrow you shall take him to London. The best

-trains are in the morning. I quite agree with you about his mental

-condition. I am very much obliged to you for drawing it to my notice."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't mention it, Carmody," said Mr. Fish graciously. "Only too glad,

-my dear fellow. Always a pleasure, always a pleasure."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">VII</p>

-

-<p>John had returned to his work and was deep in it when Hugo and his

-wounded head crossed his threshold. He was startled and concerned.</p>

-

-<p>"Good heavens!" he cried. "What's been happening?"</p>

-

-<p>"Fell down a bank and bumped the old lemon against a tree," said Hugo,

-with the quiet pride of a man who has had an accident. "I looked in to

-see if you had got some glue or something to stick it up with."</p>

-

-<p>John, as became one who thought nothing of putting stitches in cows,

-exhibited a cool efficiency. He bustled about, found water and cotton

-wool and iodine, and threw in sympathy as a make-weight. Only when the

-operation was completed did he give way to a natural curiosity.</p>

-

-<p>"How did it happen?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, it started when I found that bounder Twist burgling the house."</p>

-

-<p>"Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. Twist. The Healthward Ho bird."</p>

-

-<p>"You found Doctor Twist burgling the house?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, and I made him do bending and stretching exercises. And in the

-middle he legged it through the window, and Emily and I chivvied him

-about the garden. Then he disappeared, and I saw him again at the end

-of that path above the shrubberies, and I dashed after him and took a

-toss and it wasn't Twist at all, it was Ronnie."</p>

-

-<p>John forbore to ask further questions. This incoherent tale satisfied

-him that his cousin, if not delirious, was certainly on the borderland.

-He remembered the whole-heartedness with which Hugo had drowned his

-sorrows only a short while back in this very room, and he was satisfied

-that what the other needed was rest.</p>

-

-<p>"You'd better go to bed," he said. "I think I've fixed you up pretty

-well, but perhaps you had better see the doctor to-morrow."</p>

-

-<p>"Doc. Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, not Doctor Twist," said John soothingly. "Doctor Bain, down in the

-village."</p>

-

-<p>"Something ought to be done about the man Twist," argued Hugo.

-"Somebody ought to pop it across him."</p>

-

-<p>"If I were you I'd just forget all about Twist. Put him right out of

-your mind."</p>

-

-<p>"But are we going to sit still and let perishers with waxed moustaches

-burgle the house whenever they feel inclined and not do a thing to

-bring their gray hairs in sorrow to the grave?"</p>

-

-<p>"I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, I'd just go off and have a

-nice long sleep."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo raised his eyebrows, and, finding that the process caused

-exquisite agony to his wounded head, quickly lowered them again. He

-looked at John with cold disapproval, pained at this evidence of

-supineness in a member of a proud family.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" he said. "Well, bung—oh, then!"</p>

-

-<p>"Good night."</p>

-

-<p>"Give my love to the Alpha Separator and all the little Separators."</p>

-

-<p>"I will," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He accompanied his cousin down the stairs and out into the stable yard.

-Having watched him move away and feeling satisfied that he could reach

-the house without assistance, he felt in his pocket for the materials

-for the last smoke of the day, and was filling his pipe when Emily came

-round the corner.</p>

-

-<p>Emily was in great spirits.</p>

-

-<p>"Such larks!" said Emily. "One of those big nights. Burglars dashing

-to and fro, people falling over banks and butting their heads against

-trees, and everything bright and lively. But let me tell you something.

-A fellow like your cousin Hugo is no use whatever to a dog in any real

-emergency. He's not a force. A broken reed. You should have seen him.

-He...."</p>

-

-<p>"Stop that noise and get to bed," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Right ho," said Emily. "You'll be coming soon, I suppose?"</p>

-

-<p>She charged up the stairs, glad to get to her basket after a busy

-evening. John lighted his pipe, and began to meditate. Usually he

-smoked the last pipe of the day to the accompaniment of thoughts about

-Pat, but now he found his mind turning to this extraordinary delusion

-of Hugo's that he had caught Doctor Twist, of Healthward Ho, burgling

-the house.</p>

-

-<p>John had never met Doctor Twist, but he knew that he was the proprietor

-of a flourishing health-cure establishment and assumed him to be a

-reputable citizen; and the idea that he had come all the way from

-Healthward Ho to burgle Rudge Hall was so bizarre that he could not

-imagine by what weird mental processes his cousin had been led to

-suppose that he had seen him. Why Doctor Twist, of all people? Why not

-the vicar or Chas. Bywater?</p>

-

-<p>Footsteps sounded on the gravel, and he was aware of the subject of his

-thoughts returning. There was a dazed expression on Hugo's face, and in

-his hand there fluttered a small oblong slip of paper.</p>

-

-<p>"John," said Hugo, "look at this and tell me if you see what I see. Is

-it a cheque?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"For five hundred quid, made out to me and signed by Uncle Lester?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Then there <i>is</i> a Santa Claus!" said Hugo reverently. "John, old man,

-it's absolutely uncanny. Directly I got into the house just now Uncle

-Lester called me to his study, handed me this cheque, and told me that

-I could go to London with Ronnie to-morrow and help him start that

-night club. You remember me telling you about Ronnie's night club,

-the Hot Spot, situated just off Bond Street in the heart of London's

-pleasure-seeking area? Or did I? Well, anyway, he is starting a night

-club there, and he offered me a half share if I'd put up five hundred.

-By the way, Uncle Lester wants you to go to London to-morrow, too."</p>

-

-<p>"Me. Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"I fancy he's got the wind up a bit about this burglary business

-to-night. He said something about wanting you to go and see the

-insurance people—to bump up the insurance a trifle, I suppose. He'll

-explain. But, listen, John. It really is the most extraordinary thing,

-this. Uncle Lester starting to unbelt, I mean, and scattering money all

-over the place. I was absolutely right when I told Pat this morning...."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you seen Pat?"</p>

-

-<p>"Met her this morning on the bridge. And I said to her ..."</p>

-

-<p>"Did she—er—ask after me?"</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"No?" said John hollowly.</p>

-

-<p>"Not that I remember. I brought your name into the talk, and we had a

-few words about you, but I don't recollect her asking after you." Hugo

-laid a hand on his cousin's arm. "It's no use, John. Be a man! Forget

-her. Keep plugging away at that Molloy girl. I think you're beginning

-to make an impression. I think she's softening. I was watching her

-narrowly last night, and I fancied I saw a tender look in her eyes when

-they fell on you. I may have been mistaken, but that's what I fancied.

-A sort of shy, filmy look. I'll tell you what it is, John. You're much

-too modest. You underrate yourself. Keep steadily before you the fact

-that almost anybody can get married if they only plug away at it. Look

-at this man Bessemer, for instance, Ronnie's man that I told you about.

-As ugly a devil as you would wish to see outside the House of Commons,

-equipped with number sixteen feet and a face more like a walnut than

-anything. And yet he has clicked. The moral of which is that no one

-need ever lose hope. You may say to yourself that you have no chance

-with this Molloy girl, that she will not look at you. But consider the

-case of Bessemer. Compared with him, you are quite good looking. His

-ears alone...."</p>

-

-<p>"Good night," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He knocked out his pipe and turned to the stairs. Hugo thought his

-manner abrupt.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">VIII</p>

-

-<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery, that able and conscientious man, walked

-briskly up the main staircase of Healthward Ho. Outside a door off the

-second landing he stopped and knocked.</p>

-

-<p>A loud sneeze sounded from within.</p>

-

-<p>"Cub!" called a voice.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp Twist, propped up with pillows, was sitting in bed, swathed in

-a woollen dressing gown. His face was flushed, and he regarded his

-visitor from under swollen eyelids with a moroseness which would have

-wounded a more sensitive man. Sergeant-Major Flannery stood six feet

-two in his boots: he had a round, shiny face at which it was agony for

-a sick man to look, and Chimp was aware that when he spoke it would

-be in a rolling, barrack-square bellow which would go clean through

-him like a red-hot bullet through butter. One has to be in rude health

-and at the top of one's form to bear up against the Sergeant-Major

-Flannerys of this world.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" he muttered thickly.</p>

-

-<p>He broke off to sniff at a steaming jug which stood beside his bed, and

-the Sergeant-Major, gazing down at him with the offensive superiority

-of a robust man in the presence of an invalid, fingered his waxed

-moustache. The action intensified Chimp's dislike. From the first he

-had been jealous of that moustache. Until it had come into his life

-he had always thought highly of his own fungoid growth, but one look

-at this rival exhibit had taken all the heart out of him. The thing

-was long and blond and bushy, and it shot heavenward into two glorious

-needle-point ends, a shining zareba of hair quite beyond the scope of

-any mere civilian. Non-army men may grow moustaches and wax them and

-brood over them and be fond and proud of them, but to obtain a waxed

-moustache in the deepest and holiest sense of the words you have to be

-a sergeant-major.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo-er!" said Mr. Flannery. "That's a nasty cold you've got."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp, as if to endorse this opinion, sneezed again.</p>

-

-<p>"A nasty, feverish cold," proceeded the Sergeant-Major in the tones in

-which he had once been wont to request squads of recruits to number off

-from the right. "You ought to do something about that cold."</p>

-

-<p>"I ab dog sobthig about it," growled Chimp, having recourse to the jug

-once more.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't mean sniffing at jugs, sir. You won't do yourself no good

-sniffing at jugs, Mr. Twist. You want to go to the root of the matter,

-if you understand the expression. You want to attack it from the

-stummick. The stummick is the seat of the trouble. Get the stummick

-right and the rest follows natural."</p>

-

-<p>"Wad do you wad?"</p>

-

-<p>"There's some say quinine and some say a drop of camphor on a lump of

-sugar and some say cinnamon, but you can take it from me the best thing

-for a nasty feverish cold in the head is taraxacum and hops. There is

-no occasion to damn my eyes, Mr. Twist. I am only trying to be 'elpful.

-You send out for some taraxacum and hops, and before you know where you

-are...."</p>

-

-<p>"Wad do you wad?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm telling you. There's a gentleman below—a gentleman who's called,"

-said Sergeant-Major Flannery, making his meaning clear. "A gentleman,"

-being still more precise, "who's called at the front door in a

-nortermobile. He wants to see you."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, he can't."</p>

-

-<p>"Says his name's Molloy."</p>

-

-<p>"Molloy?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's what he <i>said</i>," replied Mr. Flannery, as one declining to be

-quoted or to accept any responsibility.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? All right. Send him up."</p>

-

-<p>"Taraxacum and hops," repeated the Sergeant-Major, pausing at the door.</p>

-

-<p>He disappeared, and a few moments later returned, ushering in Soapy. He

-left the two old friends together, and Soapy approached the bed with

-rather an awe-struck air.</p>

-

-<p>"You've got a cold," he said.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp sniffed—twice. Once with annoyance and once at the jug.</p>

-

-<p>"So would you have a code if you'd been sitting up to your neck in

-water for half an hour last night and had to ride home tweddy biles

-wriggig wet on a motorcycle."</p>

-

-<p>"Says which?" exclaimed Soapy, astounded.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp related the saga of the previous night, touching disparagingly on

-Hugo and saying some things about Emily which it was well she could not

-hear.</p>

-

-<p>"And that leds me out," he concluded.</p>

-

-<p>"No, no!"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm through."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't say that."</p>

-

-<p>"I do say thad."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Chimpie, we've got it all fixed for you to get away with the

-stuff to-night."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp stared at him incredulously.</p>

-

-<p>"To-night? You thig I'm going out to-night with this code of mine, to

-clibe through windows and be run off my legs by ..."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Chimpie, there's no danger of that now. We've got everything set.

-That guy Hugo and his friend are going to London this morning, and so's

-the other fellow. You won't have a thing to do but walk in."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>He relapsed into silence, and took a thoughtful sniff at the jug.

-This information, he was bound to admit, did alter the complexion of

-affairs. But he was a business man.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, if I do agree to go out and risk exposing this nasty, feverish

-code of mine to the night air, which is the worst thig a man can

-do—ask any doctor...."</p>

-

-<p>"Chimpie!" cried Mr. Molloy in a stricken voice. His keen intuition

-told him what was coming.</p>

-

-<p>"... I don't do it on any sigsdy-forty basis. Sigsdy-five—thirty-five

-is the figure."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy had always been an eloquent man—without a natural turn

-for eloquence you cannot hope to traffic successfully in the baser

-varieties of oil stocks; but never had he touched the sublime heights

-of oratory to which he soared now. Even the first few words would have

-been enough to melt most people. Nevertheless when at the end of five

-minutes he paused for breath, he knew that he had failed to grip his

-audience.</p>

-

-<p>"Sigsdy-five—thirty-five," said Chimp firmly. "You need me, or you

-wouldn't have brought me into this. If you could have worked the job by

-yourself, you'd never have tode me a word about it."</p>

-

-<p>"I can't work it by myself. I've got to have an alibi. I and the wife

-are going to a theatre to-night in Birmingham."</p>

-

-<p>"That's what I'm saying. You can't get alog without me. And that's why

-it's going to be sigsdy-five—thirty-five."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy wandered to the window and looked hopelessly out over the

-garden.</p>

-

-<p>"Think what Dolly will say when I tell her," he pleaded.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp replied ungallantly that Dolly and what she might say meant

-little in his life. Mr. Molloy groaned hollowly.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I guess if that's the way you feel...."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp assured him it was.</p>

-

-<p>"Then I suppose that's the way we'll have to fix it."</p>

-

-<p>"All right," said Chimp. "Then I'll be there somewheres about eleven,

-or a little later, maybe. And you needn't bother to leave any window

-opud this time. Just have a ladder laying around and I'll bust the

-window of the picture gallery, where the stuff is. It'll be more

-trouble, but I dode bide takid a bidder trouble to make thigs look more

-natural. You just see thad ladder's where I can fide it, and then you

-can leave all the difficud part of it to me."</p>

-

-<p>"Difficult!"</p>

-

-<p>"Difficud was what I said," returned Chimp. "Suppose I trip over

-somethig id the dark? Suppose I slip on the stairs? Suppose the ladder

-breaks? Suppose that dog gets after me again? That dog's not going to

-London, is it? Well, then! Besides, considering that I may quide ligely

-get pneumonia and pass in my checks.... What did you say?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy had not spoken. He had merely sighed wistfully.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>Although anxious thought for the comfort of his juniors was not

-habitually one of Lester Carmody's outstanding qualities, in planning

-his nephew John's expedition to London he had been considerateness

-itself. John, he urged, must on no account dream of trying to make the

-double journey in a single day. Apart from the fatigue inseparable from

-such a performance, he was a young man, and young men, Mr. Carmody

-pointed out, are always the better for a little relaxation, and an

-occasional taste of the pleasures which a metropolis has to offer. Let

-John have a good dinner in London, go to a theatre, sleep comfortably

-at a first-class hotel and return at his leisure on the morrow.</p>

-

-<p>Nevertheless, in spite of his uncle's solicitude nightfall found the

-latter hurrying back into Worcestershire in the Widgeon Seven. He did

-not admit that he was nervous, yet there had undoubtedly come upon

-him something that resembled uneasiness. He had been thinking a good

-deal during his ride to London about the peculiar behaviour of his

-cousin Hugo on the previous night. The supposition that Hugo had found

-Doctor Twist of Healthward Ho trying to burgle Rudge Hall was, of

-course, too absurd for consideration, but it did seem possible that he

-had surprised some sort of an attempt upon the house. Rambling and

-incoherent as his story had been, it had certainly appeared to rest

-upon that substratum of fact, and John had protested rather earnestly

-to his uncle against being sent to London, on an errand which could

-have been put through much more simply by letter, at a time when

-burglars were in the neighbourhood.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody had laughed at his apprehensions. It was most unlikely, he

-pointed out, that Hugo had ever seen a marauder at all. But assuming

-that he had done so, and that he had surprised him and pursued him

-about the garden, was it reasonable to suppose that the man would

-return on the very next night? And if, finally, he did return, the mere

-absence of John would make very little difference. Unless he proposed

-to patrol the grounds all night, John, sleeping as he did over the

-stable yard, could not be of much help, and even without him Rudge

-Hall was scarcely in a state of defencelessness. Sturgis, the butler,

-it was true, must, on account of age and flat feet, be reckoned a

-non-combatant, but apart from Mr. Carmody himself the garrison, John

-must recollect, included the intrepid Thomas G. Molloy, a warrior at

-the very mention of whose name Bad Men in Western mining camps had in

-days gone by trembled like aspens.</p>

-

-<p>It was all very plausible, yet John, having completed his business in

-London, swallowed an early dinner and turned the head of the Widgeon

-Seven homeward.</p>

-

-<p>It is often the man with smallest stake in a venture that has its

-interests most deeply at heart. His uncle Lester John had always

-suspected of a complete lack of interest in the welfare of Rudge Hall;

-and, as for Hugo, that urban-minded young man looked on the place as a

-sort of penitentiary, grudging every moment he was compelled to spend

-within its ancient walls. To John it was left to regard Rudge in the

-right Carmody spirit, the spirit of that Nigel Carmody who had once

-held it for King Charles against the forces of the Commonwealth. Where

-Rudge was concerned, John was fussy. The thought of intruders treading

-its sacred floors appalled him. He urged the Widgeon Seven forward at

-its best speed and reached Rudge as the clock over the stables was

-striking eleven.</p>

-

-<p>The first thing that met his eye as he turned in at the stable yard

-was the door of the garage gaping widely open and empty space in the

-spot where the Dex-Mayo should have stood. He ran the two-seater in,

-switched off the engine and the lights, and, climbing down stiffly,

-proceeded to ponder over this phenomenon. The only explanation he could

-think of was that his uncle must have ordered the car out after dinner

-on an expedition of some kind. To Birmingham, probably. The only place

-you ever went to from Rudge after nightfall was Birmingham.</p>

-

-<p>John thought he could guess what must have happened. He did not often

-read the Birmingham papers himself, but the <i>Post</i> came to the house

-every morning: and he seemed to see Miss Molloy, her appetite for

-entertainment whetted rather than satisfied by the village concert,

-finding in its columns the announcement that one of the musical

-comedies of her native land was playing at the Prince of Wales. No

-doubt she had wheedled his uncle into taking herself and her father

-over there, with the result that here the house was without anything in

-the shape of protection except butler Sturgis, who had been old when

-John was a boy.</p>

-

-<p>A wave of irritation passed over John. Two long drives in the Widgeon

-Seven in a single day had induced even in his whip-cord body a certain

-measure of fatigue. He had been looking forward to tumbling into bed

-without delay, and this meant that he must remain up and keep vigil

-till the party's return. Well, at least he would rout Emily out of her

-slumbers.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo?" said Emily sleepily, in answer to his whistle. "Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>"Come down," called John.</p>

-

-<p>There was a scrabbling on the stairs. Emily bounded out, full of life.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, well, well!" she said. "You back?"</p>

-

-<p>"Come along."</p>

-

-<p>"What's up? More larks?"</p>

-

-<p>"Don't make such a beastly noise," said John. "Do you know what time it

-is?"</p>

-

-<p>They walked out together and proceeded to make a slow circle of the

-house. And gradually the magic of the night began to soften John's

-annoyance. The grounds of Rudge Hall, he should have remembered, were

-at their best at this hour and under these conditions. Shy little

-scents were abroad which did not trust themselves out in the daytime,

-and you needed stillness like this really to hear the soft whispering

-of the trees.</p>

-

-<p>London had been stiflingly hot, and this sweet coolness was like balm.

-Emily had disappeared into the darkness, which probably meant that she

-would clump back up the stairs at two in the morning having rolled in

-something unpleasant, and ruin his night's repose by leaping on his

-chest, but he could not bring himself to worry about it. A sort of

-beatific peace was upon him. It was almost as though an inner voice

-were whispering to him that he was on the brink of some wonderful

-experience. And what experience the immediate future could hold except

-the possible washing of Emily when she finally decided to come home he

-was unable to imagine.</p>

-

-<p>Moving at a leisurely pace, he worked round to the back of the house

-again and stepped off the grass on to the gravel outside the stable

-yard. And as his shoes grated in the warm silence a splash of white

-suddenly appeared in the blackness before him.</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie?"</p>

-

-<p>He came back on his heels as if he had received a blow. It was the

-voice of Pat, sounding in the warm silence like moonlight made audible.</p>

-

-<p>"Is that you, Johnnie?"</p>

-

-<p>John broke into a little run. His heart was jumping, and all the

-happiness which had been glowing inside him had leaped up into a

-roaring flame. That mysterious premonition had meant something, after

-all. But he had never dreamed it could mean anything so wonderful as

-this.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>The night was full of stars, but overhanging trees made the spot where

-they stood a little island of darkness in which all that was visible

-of Pat was a faint gleaming of white. John stared at her dumbly. Only

-once in his life before could he remember having felt as he felt now,

-and that was one raw November evening at school at the close of the

-football match against Marlborough when, after battling wearily through

-a long half hour to preserve the slenderest of all possible leads, he

-had heard the referee's whistle sound through the rising mists and had

-stood up, bruised and battered and covered with mud, to the realization

-that the game was over and won. He had had his moments since then: he

-had captained Oxford and played for England, and had touched happiness

-in other and milder departments of life, but never again till now had

-he felt that strange, almost awful ecstasy.</p>

-

-<p>Pat, for her part, appeared composed.</p>

-

-<p>"That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've

-been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a

-sound."</p>

-

-<p>"Emily's gone away somewhere."</p>

-

-<p>"I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for

-life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically

-cut me dead."</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!" said John, thickly.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such

-a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling

-round?"</p>

-

-<p>It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The

-thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a

-thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step

-to prevent them.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, just walking."</p>

-

-<p>"Were you surprised to see me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"We don't see much of each other nowadays."</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't know.... I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."</p>

-

-<p>"Good gracious! What made you think that?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know."</p>

-

-<p>Silence fell upon them again. John was harassed by a growing

-consciousness that he was failing to prove himself worthy of this

-golden moment which the Fates had granted to him. Was this all he was

-capable of—stiff, halting words which sounded banal even to himself?

-A night like this deserved, he felt, something better. He saw himself

-for an instant as he must be appearing to a girl like Pat, a girl who

-had been everywhere and met all sorts of men—glib, dashing men; suave,

-ingratiating men; men of poise and <i>savoir faire</i> who could carry

-themselves with a swagger. An aching humility swept over him.</p>

-

-<p>And yet she had come here to-night to see him. The thought a little

-restored his self-respect, and he was trying with desperate search in

-the unexplored recesses of his mind to discover some remark which would

-show his appreciation of that divine benevolence, when she spoke again.</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie, let's go out on the moat."</p>

-

-<p>John's heart was singing like one of the morning stars. The suggestion

-was not one which he would have made himself, for it would not

-have occurred to him, but, now that it had been made, he saw how

-super-excellent it was. He tried to say so, but words would not come to

-him.</p>

-

-<p>"You don't seem very enthusiastic," said Pat. "I suppose you think I

-ought to be at home and in bed?"</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Perhaps you want to go to bed?"</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, come on then."</p>

-

-<p>They walked in silence down the yew-hedged path that led to the

-boathouse. The tranquil beauty of the night wrapped them about as in a

-garment. It was very dark here, and even the gleam of white that was

-Pat had become indistinct.</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>He heard her utter a little exclamation. Something soft and scented

-stumbled against him, and for an instant he was holding her in his

-arms. The next moment he had very properly released her again, and he

-heard her laugh.</p>

-

-<p>"Sorry," said Pat. "I stumbled."</p>

-

-<p>John did not reply. He was incapable of speech. That swift moment of

-contact had had the effect of clarifying his mental turmoil. Luminously

-now he perceived what was causing his lack of eloquence. It was the

-surging, choking desire to kiss Pat, to reach out and snatch her up in

-his arms and hold her there.</p>

-

-<p>He stopped abruptly.</p>

-

-<p>"What's the matter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing," said John.</p>

-

-<p>Prudence, the kill-joy, had whispered in his ear. He visualized

-Prudence as a thin, pale-faced female with down-drawn lips and

-mild, warning stare who murmured thinly, "Is it wise?" Before her

-whisper primitive emotions fled, abashed. The caveman in John fled

-back into the dim past whence he had come. Most certainly, felt the

-Twentieth-Century John, it would not be wise. Very clearly Pat had

-shown him, that night in London, that all that she could give him was

-friendship, and to gratify the urge of some distant ancestor who ought

-to have been ashamed of himself he had been proposing to shatter the

-delicate crystal of this friendship into fragments. He shivered at the

-narrowness of escape.</p>

-

-<p>He had heard stories. In stories girls drew their breath in sharply and

-said "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?" He decided not to

-spoil everything. Walking warily, he reached the little gate that led

-to the boathouse steps and opened it with something of a flourish.</p>

-

-<p>"Be careful," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"What of?" said Pat. It seemed to John that she spoke a trifle flatly.</p>

-

-<p>"These steps are rather tricky."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said Pat.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>He followed her into the punt, oppressed once more by a feeling that

-something had gone wrong with what should have been the most wonderful

-night of his life. Girls are creatures of moods, and Pat seemed now

-to have fallen into one of odd aloofness. She said nothing as he

-pushed the boat out, and remained silent as it slid through the water

-with a little tinkling ripple, bearing them into a world of stars and

-coolness, where everything was still and the trees stood out against

-the sky as if carved out of cardboard.</p>

-

-<p>"Are you all right?" said John, at last.</p>

-

-<p>"Splendid, thanks." Pat's mood seemed to have undergone another swift

-change. Her voice was friendly again. She nestled into the cushions.

-"This is luxury. Do you remember the old days when there was nothing

-but the weed-boat?"</p>

-

-<p>"They were pretty good days," said John wistfully.</p>

-

-<p>"They were, rather," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>The spell of the summer night held them silent again. No sound

-broke the stillness but the slap of tiny waves and the rhythmic dip

-and splash of the paddle. Then with a dry flittering a bat wheeled

-overhead, and out somewhere by the little island where the birds nested

-something leaped noisily in the water. Pat raised her head.</p>

-

-<p>"A pike?"</p>

-

-<p>"Must have been."</p>

-

-<p>Pat sat up and leaned forward.</p>

-

-<p>"That would have excited Father," she said. "I know he's dying to get

-out here and have another go at the pike. Johnnie, I do wish somebody

-could do something to stop this absurd feud between him and Mr.

-Carmody. It's too silly. I know Father would be all over Mr. Carmody if

-only he would make some sort of advance. After all, he did behave very

-badly. He might at least apologize."</p>

-

-<p>John did not reply for a moment. He was thinking that whoever tried

-to make his uncle apologize for anything had a whole-time job on his

-hands. Obstinate was a mild word for the squire of Rudge. Pigs bowed

-as he passed, and mules could have taken his correspondence course.</p>

-

-<p>"Uncle Lester's a peculiar man," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"But he might listen to you."</p>

-

-<p>"He might," said John doubtfully.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, will you try? Will you go to him and say that all Father wants

-is for him to admit he was in the wrong? Good heavens! It isn't asking

-much of a man to admit that when he's nearly murdered somebody."</p>

-

-<p>"I'll try."</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo says Mr. Carmody has gone off his head, but he can't have gone

-far enough off not to be able to see that Father has a perfect right

-to be offended at being grabbed round the waist and used as a dug-out

-against dynamite explosions."</p>

-

-<p>"I think Hugo's off his head," said John. "He was running round the

-garden last night, dashing himself against trees. He said he was

-chasing a burglar."</p>

-

-<p>Pat was not to be diverted into a discussion of Hugo's mental

-deficiencies.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, will you do your best, Johnnie? Don't just let things slide

-as if they didn't matter. I tell you, it's rotten for me. Father

-found me talking to Hugo the other day and behaved like something out

-of a super-film. He seemed sorry there wasn't any snow, so that he

-couldn't drive his erring daughter out into it. If he knew I was up

-here to-night he would foam with fury. He says I mustn't speak to you

-or Hugo or Mr. Carmody or Emily—not that I want to speak to Emily,

-the little blighter—nor your ox nor your ass nor anything that is

-within your gates. He's put a curse on the Hall. It's one of those

-comprehensive curses, taking in everything from the family to the mice

-in the kitchen, and I tell you I'm jolly well fed up. This place has

-always been just like a home to me, and you ..."</p>

-

-<p>John paused in the act of dipping his paddle into the water.</p>

-

-<p>"... and you have always been just like a brother ..."</p>

-

-<p>John dug the paddle down with a vicious jerk.</p>

-

-<p>"... and if Father thinks it doesn't affect me to be told I mustn't

-come here and see you, he's wrong. I suppose most girls nowadays would

-just laugh at him, but I can't. It isn't his being angry I'd mind—it

-would hurt his feelings so frightfully if I let him down and went

-fraternizing with the enemy. So I have to come here on the sly, and if

-there's one thing in the world I hate it's doing things on the sly. So

-do reason with that old pig of an uncle of yours, Johnnie. Talk to him

-like a mother."</p>

-

-<p>"Pat," said John fervently, "I don't know how it's going to be done,

-but if it can be done I'll do it."</p>

-

-<p>"That's the stuff! You're a funny old thing, Johnnie. In some ways

-you're so slow, but I believe when you really start out to do anything

-you generally put it through."</p>

-

-<p>"Slow?" said John, stung. "How do you mean, slow?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, don't you think you're slow?"</p>

-

-<p>"In what way?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, just slow."</p>

-

-<p>In spite of the fact that the stars were shining bravely, the night was

-very dark, much too dark for John to be able to see Pat's face; he got

-the impression that, could he have seen it, he would have discovered

-that she was smiling that old mocking smile of hers. And somehow,

-though in the past he had often wilted meekly and apologetically

-beneath this smile, it filled him now with a surge of fury. He plied

-the paddle wrathfully, and the boat shot forward.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't go so fast," said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought I was slow," retorted John, sinking back through the years

-to the repartee of school days.</p>

-

-<p>Pat gurgled in the darkness.</p>

-

-<p>"Did I wound you, Johnnie? I'm sorry. You aren't slow. It's just

-prudence, I expect."</p>

-

-<p>Prudence! John ceased to paddle. He was tingling all over, and there

-had come upon him a strange breathlessness.</p>

-

-<p>"How do you mean, prudence?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, just prudence. I can't explain."</p>

-

-<p>Prudence! John sat and stared through the darkness in a futile effort

-to see her face. A water rat swam past, cleaving a fan-shaped trail.

-The stars winked down at him. In the little island a bird moved among

-the reeds. Prudence! Was she referring...? Had she meant...? Did she

-allude...?</p>

-

-<p>He came to life and dug the paddle into the water. Of course she

-wasn't. Of course she hadn't. Of course she didn't. In that little

-episode on the path, he had behaved exactly as he should have behaved.

-If he behaved as he should not have behaved, if he had behaved as that

-old flint-axe and bearskin John of the Stone Age would have had him

-behave, he would have behaved unpardonably. The swift intake of the

-breath and the "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?"—that was

-what would have been the result of listening to the advice of a bounder

-of an ancestor who might have been a social success in his day, but

-naturally didn't understand the niceties of modern civilization.</p>

-

-<p>Nevertheless, he worked with unnecessary vigour at the paddle, calling

-down another rebuke from his passenger.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't race along like that. Are you trying to hint that you want to

-get this over as quickly as you can and send me home to bed?"</p>

-

-<p>"No," was all John could find to say.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I suppose I ought to be thinking of bed. I'll tell you what.

-We'll do the thing in style. The Return by Water. You can take me out

-into the Skirme and down as far as the bridge and drop me there. Or is

-that too big a programme? You're probably tired."</p>

-

-<p>John had motored two hundred miles that day, but he had never felt less

-tired. His view was that he wished they could row on for ever.</p>

-

-<p>"All right," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"Push on, then," said Pat. "Only do go slowly. I want to enjoy this. I

-don't want to whizz by all the old landmarks. How far to Ghost Corner?"</p>

-

-<p>"It's just ahead."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, take it easy."</p>

-

-<p>The moat proper was a narrow strip of water which encircled the Hall

-and had been placed there by the first Carmody in the days when

-householders believed in making things difficult for their visitors.

-With the gradual spread of peace throughout the land its original

-purposes had been forgotten, and later members of the family had

-broadened it and added to it and tinkered with it and sprinkled it with

-little islands with the view of converting it into something resembling

-as nearly as possible an ornamental lake. Apparently it came to an end

-at the spot where a mass of yew trees stood forbiddingly in a gloomy

-row, that haunted spot which Pat as a child had named Ghost Corner;

-but if you approached this corner intrepidly you found there a narrow

-channel. Which navigated, you came into a winding stream which led past

-meadows and under bridges to the upper reaches of the Skirme.</p>

-

-<p>"How old were you, Johnnie, when you were first brave enough to come

-past Ghost Corner at night all by yourself?" asked Pat.</p>

-

-<p>"Sixteen."</p>

-

-<p>"I bet you were much more than that."</p>

-

-<p>"I did it on my sixteenth birthday."</p>

-

-<p>Pat stretched out a hand and the branches brushed her fingers.</p>

-

-<p>"I wouldn't do it even now," she said. "I know perfectly well a skinny

-arm covered with black hair would come out of the yews and grab me.

-There's something that looks like a skinny arm hovering at the back of

-your neck now, Johnnie. What made you such a hero that particular day?"</p>

-

-<p>"You had betted me I wouldn't, if you remember."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't remember. Did I?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you egged me on with taunts."</p>

-

-<p>"And you went and did it? What a good influence I've been in your life,

-haven't I? Oh, dear! It's funny to think of you and me as kids on this

-very bit of water and here we are again now, old and worn and quite

-different people, and the water's just the same as ever."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not different."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, you are."</p>

-

-<p>"What makes you say I'm different?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I don't know."</p>

-

-<p>John stopped paddling. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.</p>

-

-<p>"Why do you say I'm different?"</p>

-

-<p>"Those white things through the trees there must be geese."</p>

-

-<p>John was not interested in geese.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not different at all," he said, "I...." He broke off. He had been

-on the verge of saying that he had loved her then and that he loved her

-still—which, he perceived, would have spoiled everything. "I'm just

-the same," he concluded lamely.</p>

-

-<p>"Then why don't you sport with me on the green as you did when you

-were a growing lad? Here you have been back for days, and to-night is

-the first glimpse I get of you. And, even so, I had to walk a mile and

-fling gravel at your window. In the old days you used to live on my

-doorstep. Do you think I've enjoyed being left all alone all this time?"</p>

-

-<p>John was appalled. Put this way, the facts did seem to point to a

-callous negligence on his part. And all the while he had been supposing

-his conduct due to delicacy and a sense of what was fitting and would

-be appreciated. In John's code, it was the duty of a man who has told

-a girl he loved her and been informed that she does not love him to

-efface himself, to crawl into the background, to pass out of her life

-till the memory of his crude audacity shall have been blotted out by

-time. Why, half the big game shot in Africa owed their untimely end, he

-understood, to this tradition.</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't know...."</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't know you wanted to see me."</p>

-

-<p>"Of course I wanted to see you. Look here, Johnnie. I'll tell you what.

-Are you doing anything to-morrow?"</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Then get out that old rattletrap of yours and gather me up at my

-place, and we'll go off and have a regular picnic like we used to do

-in the old days. Father is lunching out. You could come at about one

-o'clock. We could get out to Wenlock Edge in an hour. It would be

-lovely there if this weather holds up. What do you say?"</p>

-

-<p>John did not immediately say anything. His feelings were too deep for

-words. He urged the boat forward, and the Skirme received it with that

-slow, grave, sleepy courtesy which made it for right-thinking people

-the best of all rivers.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!" said John at length, devoutly.</p>

-

-<p>"Will you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Will I!"</p>

-

-<p>"All right. That's splendid. I'll expect you at one."</p>

-

-<p>The Skirme rippled about the boat, chuckling to itself. It was a

-kindly, thoughtful river, given to chuckling to itself like an old

-gentleman who likes to see young people happy.</p>

-

-<p>"We used to have some topping picnics in the old days," said Pat

-dreamily.</p>

-

-<p>"We did," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"Though why on earth you ever wanted to be with a beastly, bossy,

-consequential, fractious kid like me, goodness knows."</p>

-

-<p>"You were fine," said John.</p>

-

-<p>The Old Bridge loomed up through the shadows. John had steered the

-boat shoreward, and it brushed against the reeds with a sound like the

-blowing of fairy bugles.</p>

-

-<p>Pat scrambled out and bent down to where he sat, holding to the bank.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not nearly so beastly now, Johnnie," she said in a whisper.

-"You'll find that out some day, perhaps, if you're very patient. Good

-night, Johnnie, dear. Don't forget to-morrow."</p>

-

-<p>She flitted away into the darkness, and John, releasing his hold on the

-bank and starting up as if he had had an electric shock, was carried

-out into mid-stream. He was tingling from head to foot. It could not

-have happened, of course, but for a moment he had suddenly received the

-extraordinary impression that Pat had kissed him.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!" he called, choking.</p>

-

-<p>There came no answer out of the night—only the sleepy chuckling of the

-Skirme as it pottered on to tell its old friend the Severn about it.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!"</p>

-

-<p>John drove the paddle forcefully into the water, and the Skirme,

-ceasing to chuckle, uttered two loud gurgles of protest as if resenting

-treatment so violent. The nose of the boat bumped against the bank,

-and he sprang ashore. He stood there, listening. But there was nothing

-to hear. Silence had fallen on an empty world.</p>

-

-<p>A little sound came to him in the darkness. The Skirme was chuckling

-again.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>John woke late next day, and in the moment between sleeping and waking

-was dimly conscious of a feeling of extraordinary happiness. For some

-reason, which he could not immediately analyze, the world seemed

-suddenly to have become the best of all possible worlds. Then he

-remembered, and sprang out of bed with a shout.</p>

-

-<p>Emily, lying curled up in her basket, her whole appearance that of a

-dog who has come home with the milk, raised a drowsy head. Usually it

-was her custom to bustle about and lend a hand while John bathed and

-dressed, but this morning she did not feel equal to it. Deciding that

-it was too much trouble even to tell him about the man she had seen in

-the grounds last night, she breathed heavily twice and returned to her

-slumbers.</p>

-

-<p>Having dressed and come out into the open, John found that he had

-missed some hours of what appeared to be the most perfect morning in

-the world's history. The stable yard was a well of sunshine: light

-breezes whispered in the branches of the cedars: fleecy clouds swam in

-a sea of blue: and from the direction of the home farm there came the

-soothing crooning of fowls. His happiness swelled into a feeling of

-universal benevolence toward all created things. He looked upon the

-birds and found them all that birds should be: the insects which hummed

-in the sunshine were, he perceived, a quite superior brand of insect:

-he even felt fraternal toward a wasp which came flying about his face.

-And when the Dex-Mayo rolled across the bridge of the moat and Bolt,

-applying the brakes, drew up at his side, he thought he had never seen

-a nicer-looking chauffeur.</p>

-

-<p>"Good morning, Bolt," said John, effusively.</p>

-

-<p>"Good morning, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Where have you been off to so early?"</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Carmody sent me to Worcester, sir, to leave a bag for him at Shrub

-Hill station. If you're going into the house, Mr. John, perhaps you

-wouldn't mind giving him the ticket?"</p>

-

-<p>John was delighted. It was a small kindness that the chauffeur was

-asking, and he wished it had been in his power to do something for him

-on a bigger scale. However, the chance of doing even small kindnesses

-was something to be grateful for on a morning like this. He took the

-ticket and put it in his pocket.</p>

-

-<p>"How are you, Bolt?"</p>

-

-<p>"All right, thank you, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"How's Mrs. Bolt?"</p>

-

-<p>"She's all right, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"How's the baby?"</p>

-

-<p>"The baby's all right."</p>

-

-<p>"And the dog?"</p>

-

-<p>"The dog's all right, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"That's splendid," said John. "That's great. That's fine. That's

-capital. I'm delighted."</p>

-

-<p>He smiled a radiant smile of cheeriness and good will, and turned

-toward the house. However much the heart may be uplifted, the animal in

-a man insists on demanding breakfast, and, though John was practically

-pure spirit this morning, he was not blind to the fact that a couple of

-eggs and a cup of coffee would be no bad thing. As he reached the door,

-he remembered that Mrs. Bolt had a canary and that he had not inquired

-after that, but decided that the moment had gone by. Later on, perhaps.

-He opened the back door and made his way to the morning room, where

-eggs abounded and coffee could be had for the asking. Pausing only to

-tickle a passing cat under the ear and make chirruping noises to it, he

-went in.</p>

-

-<p>The morning room was empty, and there were signs that the rest of the

-party had already breakfasted. John was glad of it. Genially disposed

-though he felt toward his species to-day, he relished the prospect

-of solitude. A man who is about to picnic on Wenlock Edge in perfect

-weather with the only girl in the world, wants to meditate, not to make

-conversation.</p>

-

-<p>So thoroughly had his predecessors breakfasted that he found, on

-inspecting the coffee pot, that it was empty. He rang the bell.</p>

-

-<p>"Good morning, Sturgis," he said affably, as the butler appeared. "You

-might give me some more coffee, will you?"</p>

-

-<p>The butler of Rudge Hall was a little man with snowy hair who had been

-placidly withering in Mr. Carmody's service for the last twenty years.

-John had known him ever since he could remember, and he had always been

-just the same—frail and venerable and kindly and dried-up. He looked

-exactly like the Good Old Man in a touring melodrama company.</p>

-

-<p>"Why, Mr. John! I thought you were in London."</p>

-

-<p>"I got back late last night. And very glad," said John heartily, "to be

-back. How's the rheumatism, Sturgis?"</p>

-

-<p>"Rather troublesome, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>John was horrified. Could these things be on such a day as this?</p>

-

-<p>"You don't say so?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John. I was awake the greater portion of the night."</p>

-

-<p>"You must rub yourself with something and then go and lie down and have

-a good rest. Where do you feel it mostly?"</p>

-

-<p>"In the limbs, Mr. John. It comes on in sharp twinges."</p>

-

-<p>"That's bad. By Jove, yes, that's bad. Perhaps this fine weather will

-make it better."</p>

-

-<p>"I hope so, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"So do I, so do I," said John earnestly. "Tell me, where is everybody?"</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Hugo and the young gentleman went up to London."</p>

-

-<p>"Of course, yes. I was forgetting."</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Molloy and Miss Molloy finished their breakfast some little time

-ago, and are now out in the garden."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, yes. And my uncle?"</p>

-

-<p>"He is up in the picture gallery with the policeman, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>John stared.</p>

-

-<p>"With the what?"</p>

-

-<p>"With the policeman, Mr. John, who's come about the burglary."</p>

-

-<p>"Burglary?"</p>

-

-<p>"Didn't you hear, Mr. John, we had a burglary last night?"</p>

-

-<p>The world being constituted as it is, with Fate waiting round almost

-every corner with its sandbag, it is not often that we are permitted to

-remain for long undisturbed in our moods of exaltation. John came down

-to earth swiftly.</p>

-

-<p>"Good heavens!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John. And if you could spare the time...."</p>

-

-<p>Remorse gripped John. He felt like a sentinel who, falling asleep at

-his post, has allowed the enemy to creep past him in the night.</p>

-

-<p>"I must go up and see about this."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, Mr. John. But if I might have a word...."</p>

-

-<p>"Some other time, Sturgis."</p>

-

-<p>He ran up the stairs to the picture gallery. Mr. Carmody and Rudge's

-one policeman were examining something by the window, and John, in the

-brief interval which elapsed before they became aware of his presence,

-was enabled to see the evidence of the disaster. Several picture

-frames, robbed of their contents, gaped at him like blank windows.

-A glass case containing miniatures had been broken and rifled. The

-Elizabethan salt cellar presented to Aymas Carmody by the Virgin Queen

-herself was no longer in its place.</p>

-

-<p>"Gosh!" said John.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody and his companion turned.</p>

-

-<p>"John! I thought you were in London."</p>

-

-<p>"I came back last night."</p>

-

-<p>"Did you see, or observe or hear anything of this business?" asked the

-policeman.</p>

-

-<p>Constable Mould was one of the slowest-witted men in Rudge, and he had

-eyes like two brown puddles filmed over with scum, but he was doing his

-best to look at John keenly.</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Why not?"</p>

-

-<p>"I wasn't here."</p>

-

-<p>"You said you were, sir," Constable Mould pointed out cleverly.</p>

-

-<p>"I mean, I wasn't anywhere near the house," replied John impatiently.

-"Immediately I arrived I went out for a row on the moat."</p>

-

-<p>"Then you did not see or observe anything?"</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>Constable Mould, who had been licking the tip of his pencil and holding

-a notebook in readiness, subsided disappointedly.</p>

-

-<p>"When did this happen?" asked John.</p>

-

-<p>"It is impossible to say," replied Mr. Carmody. "By a most unfortunate

-combination of circumstances the house was virtually empty from almost

-directly after dinner. Hugo and his friend, as you know, left for

-London yesterday morning. Mr. Molloy and his daughter took the car

-to Birmingham to see a play. And I myself retired to bed early with

-a headache. The man could have effected an entrance without being

-observed almost any time after eight o'clock. No doubt he actually did

-break in shortly before midnight."</p>

-

-<p>"How did he get in?"</p>

-

-<p>"Undoubtedly through this window by means of a ladder."</p>

-

-<p>John perceived that the glass of the window had been cut out.</p>

-

-<p>"Another most unfortunate thing," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "is that the

-objects stolen, though so extremely valuable, are small in actual size.

-The man could have carried them off without any inconvenience. No doubt

-they are miles away by this time, possibly even in London."</p>

-

-<p>"Was this here stuff insured?" asked Constable Mould.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. Curiously enough, the reason my nephew here went to London

-yesterday was to increase the insurance. You saw to that matter, John?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes." John spoke absently. Like everybody else who has ever found

-himself on the scene of a recently committed burglary, he was looking

-about for clues. "Hullo!"</p>

-

-<p>"What is the matter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Did you see this?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly I saw it," said Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"I saw it first," said Constable Mould.</p>

-

-<p>"The man must have cut his finger getting it."</p>

-

-<p>"That's what I thought," said Constable Mould.</p>

-

-<p>The combined Mould-Carmody-John discovery was a bloodstained

-fingerprint on the woodwork of the window sill: and, like so many

-things in this world, it had at first sight the air of being much

-more important than it really was. John said he considered it valuable

-evidence, and felt damped when Mr. Carmody pointed out that its value

-was decreased by the fact that it was not easy to search through the

-whole of England for a man with a cut finger.</p>

-

-<p>"I see," said John.</p>

-

-<p>Constable Mould said he had seen it right away.</p>

-

-<p>"The only thing to be done, I suppose," said Mr. Carmody resignedly,

-"is to telephone to the police in Worcester. Not that they will

-be likely to effect anything, but it is as well to observe the

-formalities. Come downstairs with me, Mould."</p>

-

-<p>They left the room, the constable, it seemed to John, taking none

-too kindly to the idea that there were higher powers in the world of

-detection than himself. His uncle, he considered, had shown a good

-deal of dignity in his acceptance of the disaster. Many men would have

-fussed and lost their heads, but Lester Carmody remained calm. John

-thought it showed a good spirit.</p>

-

-<p>He wandered about the room, hoping for more and better clues. But the

-difficulty confronting the novice on these occasions is that it is so

-hard to tell what is a clue and what is not. Probably, if he only knew,

-there were clues lying about all over the place, shouting to him to

-pick them up. But how to recognize them? Sherlock Holmes can extract a

-clue from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash. Doctor Watson has to

-have it taken out for him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label

-attached. John was forced reluctantly to the conclusion that he was

-essentially a Doctor Watson. He did not rise even to the modest level

-of a Scotland Yard Bungler.</p>

-

-<p>He awoke from a reverie to find Sturgis at his side.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, Sturgis," said John absently.</p>

-

-<p>He was not particularly pleased to see the butler. The man looked as if

-he were about to dodder, and in moments of intense thought one does not

-wish to have doddering butlers around one.</p>

-

-<p>"Might I have a word, Mr. John?"</p>

-

-<p>John supposed he might, though he was not frightfully keen about it. He

-respected Sturgis's white hairs, but the poor old ruin had horned in at

-an unfortunate moment.</p>

-

-<p>"My rheumatism was very bad last night, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>John recognized the blunder he had made in being so sympathetic just

-now. At the time, feeling, as he had done, that all mankind were his

-little brothers, to inquire after and display a keen interest in

-Sturgis's rheumatism had been a natural and, one might say, unavoidable

-act. But now he regretted it. He required every cell in his brain for

-this very delicate business of clue-hunting, and it was maddening to be

-compelled to call a number of them off duty to attend to gossip about

-a butler's swollen joints. A little coldly he asked Sturgis if he had

-ever tried Christian Science.</p>

-

-<p>"It kept me awake a very long time, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"I read in a paper the other day that bee stings sometimes have a good

-effect."</p>

-

-<p>"Bee stings, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"So they say. You get yourself stung by bees, and the acid or whatever

-it is in the sting draws out the acid or whatever it is in you."</p>

-

-<p>Sturgis was silent for a while, and John supposed he was about to

-ask if he could direct him to a good bee. Such, however, was not the

-butler's intention. It was Sturgis, the old retainer with the welfare

-of Rudge Hall nearest his heart—not Sturgis the sufferer from twinges

-in the limbs—who was present now in the picture gallery.</p>

-

-<p>"It is very kind of you, Mr. John," he said, "to interest yourself, but

-what I wished to have a word with you about was this burglary of ours

-last night."</p>

-

-<p>This was more the stuff. John became heartier.</p>

-

-<p>"A most mysterious affair, Sturgis. The man apparently climbed in

-through this window, and no doubt escaped the same way."</p>

-

-<p>"No, Mr. John. That's what I wished to have a word with you about. He

-went away down the front stairs."</p>

-

-<p>"What! How do you know?"</p>

-

-<p>"I saw him, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"You saw him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John. Owing to being kept awake by my rheumatism."</p>

-

-<p>The remorse which had come upon John at the moment when he had first

-heard the news of the burglary was as nothing to the remorse which

-racked him now. Just because this fine old man had one of those mild,

-goofy faces and bleated like a sheep when he talked, he had dismissed

-him without further thought as a dodderer. And all the time the

-splendid old fellow, who could not help his face and was surely not to

-be blamed if age had affected his vocal chords, had been the God from

-the Machine, sent from heaven to assist him in getting to the bottom

-of this outrage. There is no known case on record of a man patting a

-butler on the head, but John at this moment came very near to providing

-one.</p>

-

-<p>"You saw him!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"What did he look like?"</p>

-

-<p>"I couldn't say, Mr. John, not really definite."</p>

-

-<p>"Why couldn't you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Because I did not really see him."</p>

-

-<p>"But you said you did."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John, but only in a manner of speaking."</p>

-

-<p>John's new-born cordiality waned a little. His first estimate, he felt,

-had been right. This was doddering, pure and simple.</p>

-

-<p>"How do you mean, only in a manner of speaking?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, it was like this, Mr. John...."</p>

-

-<p>"Look here," said John. "Tell me the whole thing right from the start."</p>

-

-<p>Sturgis glanced cautiously at the door. When he spoke, it was in a

-lowered voice, which gave his delivery the effect of a sheep bleating

-with cotton wool in its mouth.</p>

-

-<p>"I was awake with my rheumatism last night, Mr. John, and at last it

-come on so bad I felt I really couldn't hardly bear it no longer. I

-lay in bed, thinking, and after I had thought for quite some time, Mr.

-John, it suddenly crossed my mind that Mr. Hugo had once remarked,

-while kindly interesting himself in my little trouble, that a glassful

-of whisky, drunk without water, frequently alleviated the pain."</p>

-

-<p>John nodded. So far, the story bore the stamp of truth. A glassful

-of neat whisky was just what Hugo would have recommended for any

-complaint, from rheumatism to a broken heart.</p>

-

-<p>"So I thought in the circumstances that Mr. Carmody would not object if

-I tried a little. So I got out of bed and put on my overcoat, and I had

-just reached the head of the stairs, it being my intention to go to the

-cellarette in the dining room, when what should I hear but a noise."</p>

-

-<p>"What sort of noise?"</p>

-

-<p>"A sort of sneezing noise, Mr. John. As it might be somebody sneezing."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes? Well?"</p>

-

-<p>"I was stottled."</p>

-

-<p>"Stottled? Oh, yes, I see. Well?"</p>

-

-<p>"I remained at the head of the stairs. For quite a while I remained at

-the head of the stairs. Then I crope ..."</p>

-

-<p>"You what?"</p>

-

-<p>"I crope to the door of the picture gallery."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I see. Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>"Because the sneezing seemed to have come from there. And then I heard

-another sneeze. Two or three sneezes, Mr. John. As if whoever was in

-there had got a nasty cold in the head. And then I heard footsteps

-coming toward the door."</p>

-

-<p>"What did you do?"</p>

-

-<p>"I went back to the head of the stairs again, sir. If anybody had told

-me half an hour before that I could have moved so quick I wouldn't

-have believed him. And then out of the door came a man carrying a bag.

-He had one of those electric torches. He went down the stairs, but it

-was only when he was at the bottom that I caught even a glimpse of his

-face."</p>

-

-<p>"But you did then?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John, for just a moment. And I was stottled."</p>

-

-<p>"Why? You mean he was somebody you knew?"</p>

-

-<p>The butler lowered his voice again.</p>

-

-<p>"I could have sworn, Mr. John, it was that Doctor Twist who came over

-here the other day from Healthward Ho."</p>

-

-<p>"Doctor Twist!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Mr. John. I didn't tell the policeman just now, and I wouldn't

-tell anybody but you, because after all it was only a glimpse, as

-you might say, and I couldn't swear to it, and there's defamation of

-character to be considered. So I didn't mention it to Mr. Mould when

-he was inquiring of me. I said I'd heard nothing, being in my bed at

-the time. Because, apart from defamation of character and me not being

-prepared to swear on oath, I wasn't sure how Mr. Carmody would like the

-idea of my going to the dining-room cellarette even though in agonies

-of pain. So I'd be much obliged if you would not mention it to him, Mr.

-John."</p>

-

-<p>"I won't."</p>

-

-<p>"Thank you, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"You'd better leave me to think this over, Sturgis."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>"You were quite right to tell me."</p>

-

-<p>"Thank you, Mr. John. Are you coming downstairs to finish your

-breakfast, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>John waved away the material suggestion.</p>

-

-<p>"No. I want to think."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, Mr. John."</p>

-

-<p>Left alone, John walked to the window and frowned meditatively out.

-His brain was now working with a rapidity and clearness which the most

-professional of detectives might have envied. For the first time since

-his cousin Hugo had come to him to have his head repaired he began to

-realize that there might have been something, after all, in that young

-man's rambling story. Taken in conjunction with what Sturgis had just

-told him, Hugo's weird tale of finding Doctor Twist burgling the house

-became significant.</p>

-

-<p>This Twist, now. After all, what about him? He had come from nowhere to

-settle down in Worcestershire, ostensibly in order to conduct a health

-farm. But what if that health farm were a mere blind for more dastardly

-work. After all, it was surely a commonplace that your scientific

-criminal invariably adopted some specious cover of respectability for

-his crimes....</p>

-

-<p>Into the radius of John's vision there came Mr. Thomas G. Molloy,

-walking placidly beside the moat with his dashing daughter. It seemed

-to John as if he had been sent at just this moment for a purpose.

-What he wanted above all things was a keen-minded sensible man of the

-world with whom to discuss these suspicions of his, and who was better

-qualified for this rôle than Mr. Molloy? Long since he had fallen

-under the spell of the other's magnetic personality, and had admired

-the breadth of his intellect. Thomas G. Molloy was, it seemed to him,

-the ideal confidant.</p>

-

-<p>He left the room hurriedly, and ran down the stairs.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy was still strolling beside the moat when John arrived. He

-greeted him with his usual bluff kindliness. Soapy, like John some half

-hour earlier, was feeling amiably disposed toward all mankind this

-morning.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, well, well!" said Soapy. "So you're back? Did you have a

-pleasant time in London?"</p>

-

-<p>"All right, thanks. I wanted to see you...."</p>

-

-<p>"You've heard about this unfortunate business last night?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. It was about that...."</p>

-

-<p>"I have never been so upset by anything in my life," said Mr. Molloy.

-"By pure bad luck Dolly here and myself went over to Birmingham

-after dinner to see a show, and in our absence the outrage must have

-occurred. I venture to say," went on Mr. Molloy, a stern look creeping

-into his eyes, "that if only I'd been on the spot the thing could never

-have happened. My hearing's good, and I'm pretty quick on a trigger,

-Mr. Carroll—pretty quick, let me tell you. It would have taken a right

-smart burglar to have gotten past me."</p>

-

-<p>"You bet it would," said Dolly. "Gee! It's a pity. And the man didn't

-leave a single trace, did he?"</p>

-

-<p>"A fingerprint—or it may have been a thumb print—on the sill of the

-window, honey. That was all. And I don't see what good that's going to

-do us. You can't round up the population of England and ask to see

-their thumbs."</p>

-

-<p>"And outside of that not so much as a single trace. Isn't it too bad!

-From start to finish not a soul set eyes on the fellow."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, they did," said John. "That's what I came to talk to you about.

-One of the servants heard a noise and came out and saw him going down

-the staircase."</p>

-

-<p>If he had failed up to this point to secure the undivided attention of

-his audience, he had got it now. Miss Molloy seemed suddenly to come

-all eyes, and so tremendous were the joy and relief of Mr. Molloy that

-he actually staggered.</p>

-

-<p>"Saw him?" exclaimed Miss Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Sus-saw him?" echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Twist?" said Mr. Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled

-his forehead. "Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?"</p>

-

-<p>"The name seems kind of familiar," admitted Miss Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My

-uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go

-to get into condition—a sort of health farm, I suppose you would call

-it."</p>

-

-<p>"Of course, yes. I have heard Mr. Carmody speak of his friend Twist.

-But...."</p>

-

-<p>"Apparently he called here the other day—to see my uncle, I

-suppose—and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced

-that he was the burglar."</p>

-

-<p>"Improbable, surely?" Mr. Molloy seemed still to be having a little

-trouble with his breath. "Surely not very probable. This man Twist,

-from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why,

-therefore.... Besides, if he owns a prosperous business...."</p>

-

-<p>John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument.

-Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a

-bloodhound for tenacity.</p>

-

-<p>"I've thought of all that. I admit it did seem curious at first. But

-if you come to look into it you can see that the very thing a burglar

-who wanted to operate in these parts would do is to start some business

-that would make people unsuspicious of him."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"It sounds far-fetched to me."</p>

-

-<p>John's opinion of his sturdy good sense began to diminish.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, anyhow," he said in his solid way, "this servant is sure he

-recognized Twist, and one can't do any harm by going over there and

-having a look at the man. I've got quite a good excuse for seeing him.

-My uncle's having a dispute about his bill, and I can say I came over

-to discuss it."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Mr. Molloy in a strained voice. "But——"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure you can," said Miss Molloy, with sudden animation. "Smart of you

-to think of that. You need an excuse, if you don't want to make this

-Twist fellow suspicious."</p>

-

-<p>"Exactly," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He looked at the girl with something resembling approval.</p>

-

-<p>"And there's another thing," proceeded Miss Molloy, warming to her

-subject. "Don't forget that this bird, if he's the man that did the

-burgling last night, has a cut finger or thumb. If you find this Twist

-is going around with sticking plaster on him, why then that'll be

-evidence."</p>

-

-<p>John's approval deepened.</p>

-

-<p>"That's a great idea," he agreed. "What I was thinking was that I

-wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head."</p>

-

-<p>"A kuk-kuk-kuk...?" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my

-informant tells me."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, say, this begins to look like the goods," cried Miss Molloy

-gleefully. "If this fellow has a cut thumb <i>and</i> a cold in the head,

-there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false

-whiskers and saying 'I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!' Say, listen. You

-get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to

-Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the

-more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been

-whooping it up a little too heavily for some time past, and I want to

-make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the

-stuff for a while. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist

-is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a

-fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would

-settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get

-that car out, Mr. Carroll, and we'll be off right away."</p>

-

-<p>John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase,

-he could not forget that his time to-day was ear-marked for other and

-higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist, of

-Healthward Ho.</p>

-

-<p>"I must be back here by a quarter to one," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"Why?"</p>

-

-<p>"I must."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the week end with

-this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've

-done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police.

-It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve."</p>

-

-<p>"Of course," said John. "You're perfectly right. I'll have the car out

-in a couple of minutes."</p>

-

-<p>He hurried off. His views concerning Miss Molloy now were definitely

-favourable. She might not be the sort of girl he could ever like,

-she might not be the sort of girl he wanted staying at the Hall, but

-it was idle to deny that she had her redeeming qualities. About her

-intelligence, for instance, there was, he felt, no doubt whatsoever.</p>

-

-<p>And yet it was with regard to this intelligence that Soapy Molloy was

-at this very moment entertaining doubts of the gravest kind. His eyes

-were protruding a little, and he uttered an odd, strangled sound.</p>

-

-<p>"It's all right, you poor sap," said Dolly, meeting his shocked gaze

-with a confident unconcern.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy found speech.</p>

-

-<p>"All right? You say it's all right? How's it all right? If you hadn't

-pulled all that stuff...."</p>

-

-<p>"Say, listen!" said Dolly urgently. "Where's your sense? He would have

-gone over to see Chimp anyway, wouldn't he? Nothing we could have done

-would have headed him off that, would it? And he'd noticed Chimp had a

-cut finger, without my telling him, wouldn't he? All I've done is to

-make him think I'm on the level and working in cahoots with him."</p>

-

-<p>"What's the use of that?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you what use it is. I know what I'm doing. Listen, Soapy,

-you just race into the house and get those knock-out drops and give

-them to me. And make it snappy," said Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>As when on a day of rain and storm there appears among the clouds a

-tiny gleam of blue, so now, at those magic words "knock-out drops," did

-there flicker into Mr. Molloy's sombre face a faint suggestion of hope.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you worry, Soapy. I've got this thing well in hand. When we've

-gone you jump to the 'phone and get Chimp on the wire and tell him this

-guy and I are on our way over. Tell him I'm bringing the kayo drops and

-I'll slip them to him as soon as I arrive. Tell him to be sure to have

-something to drink handy and to see that this bird gets a taste of it."</p>

-

-<p>"I get you, pettie!" Mr. Molloy's manner was full of a sort of

-awe-struck reverence, like that of some humble adherent of Napoleon

-listening to his great leader outlining plans for a forthcoming

-campaign; but nevertheless it was tinged with doubt. He had always

-admired his wife's broad, spacious outlook, but she was apt sometimes,

-he considered, in her fresh young enthusiasm, to overlook details.

-"But, pettie," he said, "is this wise? Don't forget you're not in

-Chicago now. I mean, supposing you do put this fellow to sleep, he's

-going to wake up pretty soon, isn't he? And when he does won't he raise

-an awful holler?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've got that all fixed. I don't know what sort of staff Chimp keeps

-over at that joint of his, but he's probably got assistants and all

-like that. Well, you tell him to tell them that there's a young lady

-coming over with a brother that wants looking after, and this brother

-has got to be given a sleeping draught and locked away somewhere to

-keep him from getting violent and doing somebody an injury. That'll get

-him out of the way long enough for us to collect the stuff and clear

-out. It's rapid action now, Soapy. Now that Chimp has gummed the game

-by letting himself be seen we've got to move quick. We've got to make

-our getaway to-day. So don't you go off wandering about the fields

-picking daisies after I've gone. You stick round that 'phone, because

-I'll be calling you before long. See?"</p>

-

-<p>"Honey," said Mr. Molloy devoutly, "I always said you were the brains

-of the firm, and I always will say it. I'd never have thought of a

-thing like this myself in a million years."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>It was about an hour later that Sergeant-Major Flannery, seated at his

-ease beneath a shady elm in the garden of Healthward Ho, looked up

-from the novelette over which he had been relaxing his conscientious

-mind and became aware that he was in the presence of Youth and Beauty.

-Toward him, across the lawn, was walking a girl who, his experienced

-eye assured him at a single glance, fell into that limited division of

-the Sex which is embraced by the word "Pippin." Her willowy figure was

-clothed in some clinging material of a beige colour, and her bright

-hazel eyes, when she came close enough for them to be seen, touched in

-the Sergeant-Major's susceptible bosom a ready chord. He rose from his

-seat with easy grace, and his hand, falling from the salute, came to

-rest on the western section of his waxed moustache.</p>

-

-<p>"Nice morning, miss," he bellowed.</p>

-

-<p>It seemed to Sergeant-Major Flannery that this girl was gazing upon him

-as on some wonderful dream of hers that had unexpectedly come true, and

-he was thrilled. It was unlikely, he felt, that she was about to ask

-him to perform some great knightly service for her, but if she did he

-would spring smartly to attention and do it in a soldierly manner while

-she waited. Sergeant-Major Flannery was pro-Dolly from the first moment

-of their meeting.</p>

-

-<p>"Are you one of Doctor Twist's assistants?" asked Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>"I am his only assistant, miss. Sergeant-Major Flannery is the name."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? Then you look after the patients here?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's right, miss."</p>

-

-<p>"Then it is you who will be in charge of my poor brother?" She uttered

-a little sigh, and there came into her hazel eyes a look of pain.</p>

-

-<p>"Your brother, miss? Are you the lady...."</p>

-

-<p>"Did Doctor Twist tell you about my brother?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss. The fellow who's been...."</p>

-

-<p>He paused, appalled. Only by a hair's-breadth had he stopped himself

-from using in the presence of this divine creature the hideous

-expression "mopping it up a bit."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Dolly. "I see you know about it."</p>

-

-<p>"All I know about it, miss," said Sergeant-Major Flannery, "is that the

-doctor had me into the orderly room just now and said he was expecting

-a young lady to arrive with her brother, who needed attention. He said

-I wasn't to be surprised if I found myself called for to lend a hand in

-a roughhouse, because this bloke—because this patient was apt to get

-verlent."</p>

-

-<p>"My brother does get very violent," sighed Dolly. "I only hope he won't

-do you any injury."</p>

-

-<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery twitched his banana-like fingers and inflated

-his powerful chest. He smiled a complacent smile.</p>

-

-<p>"He won't do <i>me</i> an injury, miss. I've had experience with...." Again

-he stopped just in time, on the very verge of shocking his companion's

-ears with the ghastly noun "souses" ... "with these sort of nervous

-cases," he amended. "Besides, the doctor says he's going to give the

-gentleman a little sleeping draught, which'll keep him as you might say

-'armless till he wakes up and finds himself under lock and key."</p>

-

-<p>"I see. Yes, that's a very good idea."</p>

-

-<p>"No sense in troubling trouble till trouble troubles you, as the saying

-is, miss," agreed the Sergeant-Major. "If you can do a thing in a nice,

-easy, tactful manner without verlence, then why use verlence? Has the

-gentleman been this way long, miss?"</p>

-

-<p>"Four years."</p>

-

-<p>"You ought to have had him in a home sooner."</p>

-

-<p>"I have put him into dozens of homes. But he always gets out. That's

-why I'm so worried."</p>

-

-<p>"He won't get out of Healthward Ho, miss."</p>

-

-<p>"He's very clever."</p>

-

-<p>It was on the tip of Sergeant-Major Flannery's tongue to point out

-that other people were clever, too, but he refrained, not so much from

-modesty as because at this moment he swallowed some sort of insect.

-When he had finished coughing he found that his companion had passed on

-to another aspect of the matter.</p>

-

-<p>"I left him alone with Doctor Twist. I wonder if that was safe."</p>

-

-<p>"Quite safe, miss," the Sergeant-Major assured her. "You can see the

-window's open and the room's on the ground floor. If there's trouble

-and the gentleman starts any verlence, all the doctor's got to do is to

-shout for 'elp and I'll get to the spot at the double and climb in and

-lend a hand."</p>

-

-<p>His visitor regarded him with a shy admiration.</p>

-

-<p>"It's such a relief to feel that there's someone like you here, Mr.

-Flannery. I'm sure you are wonderful in any kind of an emergency."</p>

-

-<p>"People have said so, miss," replied the Sergeant-Major, stroking his

-moustache and smiling another quiet smile.</p>

-

-<p>"But what's worrying me is what's going to happen when my brother comes

-to after the sleeping draught and finds that he is locked up. That's

-what I meant just now when I said he was so clever. The last place he

-was in they promised to see that he stayed there, but he talked them

-into letting him out. He said he belonged to some big family in the

-neighbourhood and had been shut up by mistake."</p>

-

-<p>"He won't get round <i>me</i> that way, miss."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you sure?"</p>

-

-<p>"Quite sure, miss. If there's one thing you get used to in a place like

-this, it's artfulness. You wouldn't believe how artful some of these

-gentlemen can be. Only yesterday that Admiral Sir Rigby-Rudd toppled

-over in my presence after doing his bending and stretching exercises

-and said he felt faint and he was afraid it was his heart and would

-I go and get him a drop of brandy. Anything like the way he carried

-on when I just poured half a bucketful of cold water down his back

-instead, you never heard in your life. I'm on the watch all the time, I

-can tell you, miss. I wouldn't trust my own mother if she was in here,

-taking the cure. And it's no use arguing with them and pointing out to

-them that they came here voluntarily of their own free will, and are

-paying big money to be exercised and kept away from wines, spirits, and

-rich food. They just spend their whole time thinking up ways of being

-artful."</p>

-

-<p>"Do they ever try to bribe you?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, miss," said Mr. Flannery, a little wistfully. "I suppose they take

-a look at me and think—and see that I'm not the sort of fellow that

-would take bribes."</p>

-

-<p>"My brother is sure to offer you money to let him go."</p>

-

-<p>"How much—how much good," said Sergeant-Major Flannery carefully,

-"does he think that's going to do him?"</p>

-

-<p>"You wouldn't take it, would you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Who, me, miss? Take money to betray my trust, if you understand the

-expression?"</p>

-

-<p>"Whatever he offers you, I will double. You see, it's so very important

-that he is kept here, where he will be safe from temptation, Mr.

-Flannery," said Dolly, timidly, "I wish you would accept this."</p>

-

-<p>The Sergeant-Major felt a quickening of the spirit as he gazed upon the

-rustling piece of paper in her hand.</p>

-

-<p>"No, no, miss," he said, taking it. "It really isn't necessary."</p>

-

-<p>"I know. But I would rather you had it. You see, I'm afraid my brother

-may give you a lot of trouble."</p>

-

-<p>"Trouble's what I'm here for, miss," said Mr. Flannery bravely.

-"Trouble's what I draw my salary for. Besides, he can't give much

-trouble when he's under lock and key, as the saying is. Don't you

-worry, miss. We're going to make this brother of yours a different man.

-We...."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh!" cried Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>A head and shoulders had shot suddenly out of the study window—the

-head and shoulders of Doctor Twist. The voice of Doctor Twist sounded

-sharply above the droning of bees and insects.</p>

-

-<p>"Flannery!"</p>

-

-<p>"On the spot, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Come here, Flannery. I want you."</p>

-

-<p>"You stay here, miss," counselled Sergeant-Major Flannery paternally.

-"There may be verlence."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">V</p>

-

-<p>There were, however, when Dolly made her way to the study some five

-minutes later, no signs of anything of an exciting and boisterous

-nature having occurred recently in the room. The table was unbroken,

-the carpet unruffled. The chairs stood in their places, and not even a

-picture glass had been cracked. It was evident that the operations had

-proceeded according to plan, and that matters had been carried through

-in what Sergeant-Major Flannery would have termed a nice, easy, tactful

-manner.</p>

-

-<p>"Everything jake?" inquired Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>"Uh-hum," said Chimp, speaking, however, in a voice that quavered a

-little.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist was the only object in the room that looked in any way

-disturbed. He had turned an odd greenish colour, and from time to time

-he swallowed uneasily. Although he had spent a lifetime outside the

-law, Chimp Twist was essentially a man of peace and accustomed to look

-askance at any by-product of his profession that seemed to him to come

-under the heading of rough stuff. This doping of respectable visitors,

-he considered, was distinctly so to be classified; and only Mr.

-Molloy's urgency over the telephone wire had persuaded him to the task.

-He was nervous and apprehensive, in a condition to start at sudden

-noises.</p>

-

-<p>"What happened?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I did what Soapy said. After you left us the guy and I talked

-back and forth for a while, and then I agreed to knock a bit off the

-old man's bill, and then I said 'How about a little drink?' and then we

-have a little drink, and then I slip the stuff you gave me in while he

-wasn't looking. It didn't seem like it was going to act at first."</p>

-

-<p>"It don't. It takes a little time. You don't feel nothing till you

-jerk your head or move yourself, and then it's like as if somebody has

-beaned you one with an iron girder or something. So they tell me," said

-Dolly.</p>

-

-<p>"I guess he must have jerked his head, then. Because all of a sudden

-he went down and out," Chimp gulped. "You—you don't think he's ... I

-mean, you're sure this stuff...?"</p>

-

-<p>Dolly had nothing but contempt for these masculine tremors.</p>

-

-<p>"Of course. Do you suppose I go about the place croaking people? He's

-all right."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, he didn't look it. If I'd been a life-insurance company I'd have

-paid up on him without a yip."</p>

-

-<p>"He'll wake up with a headache in a little while, but outside of that

-he'll be as well as he ever was. Where have you been all your life that

-you don't know how kayo drops act?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've never had occasion to be connected with none of this raw work

-before," said Chimp virtuously. "If you'd of seen him when he slumped

-down on the table, you wouldn't be feeling so good yourself, maybe. If

-ever I saw a guy that looked like he was qualified to step straight

-into a coffin, he was him."</p>

-

-<p>"Aw, be yourself, Chimp!"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm being myself all right, all right."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, then, for Pete's sake, be somebody else. Pull yourself together,

-why can't you. Have a drink."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Twist, struck with the idea.</p>

-

-<p>His hand was still shaking, but he accomplished the delicate task of

-mixing a whisky and soda without disaster.</p>

-

-<p>"What did you with the remains?" asked Dolly, interested.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist, who had been raising the glass to his lips, lowered it

-again. He disapproved of levity of speech at such a moment.</p>

-

-<p>"Would you kindly not call him 'the remains,'" he begged. "It's all

-very well for you to be so easy about it all and to pull this stuff

-about him doing nothing but wake up with a headache, but what I'm

-asking myself is, will he wake up at all?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, cut it out! Sure, he'll wake up."</p>

-

-<p>"But will it be in this world?"</p>

-

-<p>"You drink that up, you poor dumb-bell, and then fix yourself another,"

-advised Dolly. "And make it a bit stronger next time. You seem to need

-it."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist did as directed, and found the treatment beneficial.</p>

-

-<p>"You've nothing to grumble at," Dolly proceeded, still looking on the

-bright side. "What with all this excitement and all, you seem to have

-lost that cold of yours."</p>

-

-<p>"That's right," said Chimp, impressed. "It does seem to have got a

-whole lot better."</p>

-

-<p>"Pity you couldn't have got rid of it a little earlier. Then we

-wouldn't have had all this trouble. From what I can make of it, you

-seem to have roused the house by sneezing your head off, and a bunch of

-the help come and stood looking over the banisters at you."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp tottered. "You don't mean somebody saw me last night?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure they saw you. Didn't Soapy tell you that over the wire?"</p>

-

-<p>"I could hardly make out all Soapy was saying over the wire. Say! What

-are we going to do?"</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you worry. We've done it. The only difficult part is over. Now

-that we've fixed the remains...."</p>

-

-<p>"Will you please...!"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, call him what you like. Now that we've fixed that guy the

-thing's simple. By the way, what did you do with him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Flannery took him upstairs."</p>

-

-<p>"Where to?"</p>

-

-<p>"There's a room on the top floor. Must have been a nursery or

-something, I guess. Anyway, there's bars to the windows."</p>

-

-<p>"How's the door?"</p>

-

-<p>"Good solid oak. You've got to hand it to the guys who built these old

-English houses. They knew their groceries. When they spit on their

-hands and set to work to make a door, they made one. You couldn't push

-that door down, not if you was an elephant."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, that's all right, then. Now, listen, Chimp. Here's the low-down.

-We...." She broke off. "What's that?"</p>

-

-<p>"What's what?" asked Mr. Twist, starting violently.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought I heard someone outside in the corridor. Go and look."</p>

-

-<p>With an infinite caution born of alarm, Mr. Twist crept across the

-floor, reached the door and flung it open. The passage was empty. He

-looked up and down it, and Dolly, whose fingers had hovered for an

-instant over the glass which he had left on the table, sat back with an

-air of content.</p>

-

-<p>"My mistake," she said. "I thought I heard something."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp returned to the table. He was still much perturbed.</p>

-

-<p>"I wish I'd never gone into this thing," he said, with a sudden gush of

-self-pity. "I felt all along, what with seeing that magpie and the new

-moon through glass...."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, listen!" said Dolly vigorously. "Considering you've stood Soapy

-and me up for practically all there is in this thing except a little

-small change, I'll ask you kindly, if you don't mind, not to stand

-there beefing and expecting me to hold your hand and pat you on the

-head and be a second mother to you. You came into this business because

-you wanted it. You're getting sixty-five per cent. of the gross. So

-what's biting you? You're all right so far."</p>

-

-<p>It was in Mr. Twist's mind to inquire of his companion precisely what

-she meant by this expression, but more urgent matter claimed his

-attention. More even than the exact interpretation of the phrase "so

-far," he wished to know what the next move was.</p>

-

-<p>"What happens now?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"We go back to Rudge."</p>

-

-<p>"And collect the stuff?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. And then make our getaway."</p>

-

-<p>No programme could have outlined more admirably Mr. Twist's own

-desires. The mere contemplation of it heartened him. He snatched

-his glass from the table and drained it with a gesture almost

-swash-buckling.</p>

-

-<p>"Soapy will have doped the old man by this time, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's right."</p>

-

-<p>"But suppose he hasn't been able to?" said Mr. Twist with a return of

-his old nervousness. "Suppose he hasn't had an opportunity?"</p>

-

-<p>"You can always find an opportunity of doping people. You ought to know

-that."</p>

-

-<p>The implied compliment pleased Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"That's right," he chuckled.</p>

-

-<p>He nodded his head complacently. And immediately something which may

-have been an iron girder or possibly the ceiling and the upper parts of

-the house seemed to strike him on the base of the skull. He had been

-standing by the table, and now, crumpling at the knees, he slid gently

-down to the floor. Dolly, regarding him, recognized instantly what he

-had meant just now when he had spoken of John appearing like a total

-loss to his life-insurance company. The best you could have said of

-Alexander Twist at this moment was that he looked peaceful. She drew in

-her breath a little sharply, and then, being a woman at heart, took a

-cushion from the armchair and placed it beneath his head.</p>

-

-<p>Only then did she go to the telephone and in a gentle voice ask the

-operator to connect her with Rudge Hall.</p>

-

-<p>"Soapy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Hello!"</p>

-

-<p>The promptitude with which the summons of the bell had been answered

-brought a smile of approval to her lips. Soapy, she felt, must have

-been sitting with his head on the receiver.</p>

-

-<p>"Listen, sweetie."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm listening, pettie!"</p>

-

-<p>"Everything's set."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you fixed that guy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure, precious. And Chimp, too."</p>

-

-<p>"How's that? Chimp?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. We don't want Chimp around, do we, with that

-sixty-five—thirty-five stuff of his? I just slipped a couple of drops

-into his highball and he's gone off as peaceful as a lamb. Say, wait

-a minute," she added, as the wire hummed with Mr. Molloy's low-voiced

-congratulations. "Hello!" she said, returning.</p>

-

-<p>"What were you doing, honey? Did you hear somebody?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. I caught sight of a bunch of lilies in a vase, and I just slipped

-across and put one of them in Chimp's hand. Made it seem more sort of

-natural. Now listen, Soapy. Everything's clear for you at your end

-now, so go right ahead and clean up. I'm going to beat it in that guy

-Carroll's runabout, and I haven't much time, so don't start talking

-about the weather or nothing. I'm going to London, to the Belvidere.

-You collect the stuff and meet me there. Is that all straight?"</p>

-

-<p>"But, pettie!"</p>

-

-<p>"Now what?"</p>

-

-<p>"How am I to get the stuff away?"</p>

-

-<p>"For goodness' sake! You can drive a car, can't you? Old Carmody's car

-was outside the stable yard when I left. I guess it's there still. Get

-the stuff and then go and tell the chauffeur that old Carmody wants to

-see him. Then, when he's gone, climb in and drive to Birmingham. Leave

-the car outside the station and take a train. That's simple enough,

-isn't it?"</p>

-

-<p>There was a long pause. Admiration seemed to have deprived Mr. Molloy

-of speech.</p>

-

-<p>"Honey," he said at length, in a hushed voice, "when it comes to the

-real smooth stuff you're there every time. Let me just tell you...."</p>

-

-<p>"All right, baby," said Dolly. "Save it till later. I'm in a hurry."</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>Soapy Molloy replaced the receiver, and came out of the telephone

-cupboard glowing with the resolve to go right ahead and clean up as his

-helpmeet had directed. Like all good husbands, he felt that his wife

-was an example and an inspiration to him. Mopping his fine forehead,

-for it had been warm in the cupboard with the door shut, he stood for a

-while and mused, sketching out in his mind a plan of campaign.</p>

-

-<p>The prudent man, before embarking on any enterprise which may at a

-moment's notice necessitate his skipping away from a given spot like a

-scalded cat, will always begin by preparing his lines of retreat. Mr.

-Molloy's first act was to go to the stable yard in order to ascertain

-with his own eyes that the Dex-Mayo was still there.</p>

-

-<p>It was. It stood out on the gravel, simply waiting for someone to

-spring to its wheel and be off.</p>

-

-<p>So far, so good. But how far actually was it? The really difficult part

-of the operations, Mr. Molloy could not but recognize, still lay before

-him. The knock-out drops nestled in his waistcoat pocket all ready for

-use, but in order to bring about the happy ending it was necessary for

-him, like some conjuror doing a trick, to transfer them thence to the

-interior of Mr. Lester Carmody. And little by little, chilling his

-enthusiasm, there crept upon Soapy the realization that he had not a

-notion how the deuce this was to be done.</p>

-

-<p>The whole question of administering knock-out drops to a fellow

-creature is a very delicate and complex one. So much depends on the

-co-operation of the party of the second part. Before you can get

-anything in the nature of action, your victim must first be induced to

-start drinking something. At Healthward Ho, Soapy had gathered from the

-recent telephone conversation, no obstacles had arisen. The thing had

-been, apparently, from the start a sort of jolly carousal. But at Rudge

-Hall, it was plain, matters were not going to be nearly so simple.</p>

-

-<p>When you are a guest in a man's house, you cannot very well go about

-thrusting drinks on your host at half-past eleven in the morning.

-Probably Mr. Carmody would not think of taking liquid refreshment till

-lunchtime, and then there would be a butler in and out of the room all

-the while. Besides, lunch would not be for another two hours or more,

-and the whole essence of this enterprise was that it should be put

-through swiftly and at once.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy groaned in spirit. He wandered forth into the garden,

-turning the problem over in his mind with growing desperation, and had

-just come to the conclusion that he was mentally unequal to it, when,

-reaching the low wall that bordered the moat, he saw a sight which sent

-the blood coursing joyously through his veins once more—a sight which

-made the world a thing of sunshine and bird song again.</p>

-

-<p>Out in the middle of the moat lay the punt. In the punt sat Mr.

-Carmody. And in Mr. Carmody's hand was a fishing rod.</p>

-

-<p>Æsthetically considered, wearing as he did a pink shirt and a slouch

-hat which should long ago have been given to the deserving poor, Mr.

-Carmody was not much of a spectacle, but Soapy, eyeing him, felt that

-he had never beheld anything lovelier. He was not a fisherman himself,

-but he knew all about fishermen. They became, he was aware, when

-engaged on their favourite pursuit, virtually monomaniacs. Earthquakes

-might occur in their immediate neighbourhood, dynasties fall and

-pestilences ravage the land, but they would just go on fishing. As long

-as the bait held out, Lester Carmody, sitting in that punt, was for all

-essential purposes as good as if he had been crammed to the brim of the

-finest knock-out drops. It was as though he were in another world.</p>

-

-<p>Exhilaration filled Soapy like a tonic.</p>

-

-<p>"Any luck?" he shouted.</p>

-

-<p>"Wah, wah, wah," replied Mr. Carmody inaudibly.</p>

-

-<p>"Stick to it," cried Soapy. "Atta-boy!"</p>

-

-<p>With an encouraging wave of the hand he hurried back to the house.

-The problem which a moment before had seemed to defy solution had now

-become so simple and easy that a child could have negotiated it—any

-child, that is to say, capable of holding a hatchet and endowed with

-sufficient strength to break a cupboard door with it.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm telling the birds, telling the bees," sang Soapy gaily, charging

-into the hall, "Telling the flowers, telling the trees how I love

-you...."</p>

-

-<p>"Sir?" said Sturgis respectfully, suddenly becoming manifest out of the

-infinite.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy gazed at the butler blankly, his wild wood-notes dying away in a

-guttural gurgle. Apart from the embarrassment which always comes upon

-a man when caught singing, he was feeling, as Sturgis himself would

-have put it, stottled. A moment before, the place had been completely

-free from butlers, and where this one could have come from was more

-than he could understand. Rudge Hall's old retainer did not look the

-sort of man who would pop up through traps, but there seemed no other

-explanation of his presence.</p>

-

-<p>And then, close to the cupboard door, Soapy espied another door,

-covered with green baize. This, evidently, was the Sturgis bolt-hole.</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought you called, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Lovely day, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Beautiful," said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>He gazed bulgily at this inconvenient old fossil. Once more, shadows

-had fallen about his world, and he was brooding again on the deep gulf

-that is fixed between artistic conception and detail work.</p>

-

-<p>The broad, artistic conception of breaking open the cupboard door and

-getting away with the swag while Mr. Carmody, anchored out on the moat,

-dabbled for bream or dibbled for chub or sniggled for eels or whatever

-weak-minded thing it is that fishermen do when left to themselves in

-the middle of a sheet of water, was magnificent. It was bold, dashing,

-big in every sense of the word. Only when you came to inspect it in

-detail did it occur to you that it might also be a little noisy.</p>

-

-<p>That was the fatal flaw—the noise. The more Soapy examined the scheme,

-the more clearly did he see that it could not be carried through in

-even comparative quiet. And the very first blow of the hammer or axe or

-chisel selected for the operation must inevitably bring Methuselah's

-little brother popping through that green baize door, full of inquiries.</p>

-

-<p>"Hell!" said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"Sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing," said Soapy. "I was just thinking."</p>

-

-<p>He continued to think, and to such effect that before long he had begun

-to see daylight. There is no doubt that in time of stress the human

-mind has an odd tendency to take off its coat and roll up its sleeves

-and generally spread itself in a spasm of unwonted energy. Probably if

-this thing had been put up to Mr. Molloy as an academic problem over

-the nuts and wine after dinner, he would have had to confess himself

-baffled. Now, however, with such vital issues at stake, it took him

-but a few minutes to reach the conclusion that what he required, as he

-could not break open a cupboard door in silence, was some plausible

-reason for making a noise.</p>

-

-<p>He followed up this line of thought. A noise of smashing wood. In what

-branch of human activity may a man smash wood blamelessly? The answer

-is simple. When he is doing carpentering. What sort of carpentering?

-Why, making something. What? Oh, anything. Yes, but what? Well, say for

-example a rabbit hutch. But why a rabbit hutch? Well, a man might very

-easily have a daughter who, in her girlish, impulsive way, had decided

-to keep pet rabbits, mightn't he? There actually were pet rabbits on

-the Rudge Hall estate, weren't there? Certainly there were. Soapy had

-seen them down at one of the lodges.</p>

-

-<p>The thing began to look good. It only remained to ascertain whether

-Sturgis was the right recipient for this kind of statement. The world

-may be divided broadly into two classes—men who will believe you when

-you suddenly inform them at half-past eleven on a summer morning that

-you propose to start making rabbit hutches, and men who will not.

-Sturgis looked as if he belonged to the former and far more likeable

-class. He looked, indeed, like a man who would believe anything.</p>

-

-<p>"Say!" said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"Sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"My daughter wants me to make her a rabbit hutch."</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>Soapy felt relieved. There had been no incredulity in the other's

-gaze—on the contrary, something that looked very much like a sort of

-senile enthusiasm. He had the air of a butler who had heard good news

-from home.</p>

-

-<p>"Have you got such a thing as a packing case or a sugar box or

-something like that? And a hatchet?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Then fetch them along."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, sir."</p>

-

-<p>The butler disappeared through his green baize door, and Soapy, to fill

-in the time of waiting, examined the cupboard. It appeared to be a

-very ordinary sort of cupboard, the kind that a resolute man can open

-with one well-directed blow. Soapy felt complacent. Though primarily a

-thinker, it pleased him to feel that he could be the man of action when

-the occasion called.</p>

-

-<p>There was a noise of bumping without. Sturgis reappeared, packing case

-in one hand, hatchet in the other, looking like Noah taking ship's

-stores aboard the Ark.</p>

-

-<p>"Here they are, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Thanks."</p>

-

-<p>"I used to keep roberts when I was a lad, sir," said the butler. "Oh,

-dear, yes. Many's the robert I've made a pet of in my time. Roberts and

-white mice, those were what I was fondest of. And newts in a little

-aquarium."</p>

-

-<p>He leaned easily against the wall, beaming, and Soapy, with deep

-concern, became aware that the Last of the Great Victorians proposed to

-make this thing a social gathering. He appeared to be regarding Soapy

-as the nucleus of a salon.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't let me keep you," said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"You aren't keeping me, sir," the butler assured him. "Oh, no, sir, you

-aren't keeping me. I've done my silver. It will be a pleasure to watch

-you, sir. Quite likely I can give you a hint or two if you've never

-made a robert hutch before. Many's the hutch I've made in my time. As a

-lad, I was very handy at that sort of thing."</p>

-

-<p>A dull despair settled upon Soapy. It was plain to him now that he had

-unwittingly delivered himself over into the clutches of a bore who

-had probably been pining away for someone on whom to pour out his

-wealth of stored-up conversation. Words had begun to flutter out of

-this butler like bats out of a barn. He had become a sort of human

-Topical Talk on rabbits. He was speaking of rabbits he had known in

-his hot youth—their manners, customs, and the amount of lettuce they

-had consumed per diem. To a man interested in rabbits but too lazy to

-look the subject up in the encyclopædia the narrative would have been

-enthralling. It induced in Soapy a feverishness that touched the skirts

-of homicidal mania. The thought came into his mind that there are

-other uses to which a hatchet may be put besides the making of rabbit

-hutches. England trembled on the verge of being short one butler.</p>

-

-<p>Sturgis had now become involved in a long story of his early manhood,

-and even had Soapy been less distrait he might have found it difficult

-to enjoy it to the full. It was about an acquaintance of his who had

-kept rabbits, and it suffered in lucidity from his unfortunate habit

-of pronouncing rabbits "roberts," combined with the fact that by a

-singular coincidence the acquaintance had been a Mr. Roberts. Roberts,

-it seemed, had been deeply attached to roberts. In fact, his practice

-of keeping roberts in his bedroom had led to trouble with Mrs. Roberts,

-and in the end Mrs. Roberts had drowned the roberts in the pond and

-Roberts, who thought the world of his roberts and not quite so highly

-of Mrs. Roberts, had never forgiven her.</p>

-

-<p>Here Sturgis paused, apparently for comment.</p>

-

-<p>"Is that so?" said Soapy, breathing heavily.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"In the pond?"</p>

-

-<p>"In the pond, sir."</p>

-

-<p>Like some Open Sesame, the word suddenly touched a chord in Soapy's

-mind.</p>

-

-<p>"Say, listen," he said. "All the while we've been talking I was

-forgetting that Mr. Carmody is out there on the pond."</p>

-

-<p>"The moat, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"Call it what you like. Anyway, he's there, fishing, and he told me to

-tell you to take him out something to drink."</p>

-

-<p>Immediately, Sturgis, the lecturer, with a change almost startling in

-its abruptness, became Sturgis, the butler, once more. The fanatic

-rabbit-gleam died out of his eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"I should hurry. His tongue was hanging out when I left him."</p>

-

-<p>For an instant the butler wavered. The words had recalled to his mind a

-lop-eared doe which he had once owned, whose habit of putting out its

-tongue and gasping had been the cause of some concern to him in the

-late 'seventies. But he recovered himself. Registering a mental resolve

-to seek out this new-made friend of his later and put the complete

-facts before him, he passed through the green baize door.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy, alone at last, did not delay. With all the pent up energy which

-had been accumulating within him during a quarter of an hour which had

-seemed a lifetime, he swung the hatchet and brought it down. The panel

-splintered. The lock snapped. The door swung open.</p>

-

-<p>There was an electric switch inside the cupboard. He pressed it down

-and was able to see clearly. And, having seen clearly, he drew back,

-his lips trembling with half-spoken words of the regrettable kind which

-a man picks up in the course of a lifetime spent in the less refined

-social circles of New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago.</p>

-

-<p>The cupboard contained an old raincoat, two hats, a rusty golf club,

-six croquet balls, a pamphlet on stock-breeding, three umbrellas, a

-copy of the <i>Parish Magazine</i> for the preceding November, a shoe, a

-mouse, and a smell of apples, but no suitcase.</p>

-

-<p>That much Soapy had been able to see in the first awful, disintegrating

-instant.</p>

-

-<p>No bag, box, portmanteau, or suitcase of any kind or description

-whatsoever.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Hope does not readily desert the human breast. After the first numbing

-impact of any shock, we most of us have a tendency to try to persuade

-ourselves that things may not be so bad as they seem. Some explanation,

-we feel, will be forthcoming shortly, putting the whole matter in a

-different light. And so, after a few moments during which he stood

-petrified, muttering some of the comments which on the face of it the

-situation seemed to demand, Soapy cheered up a little.</p>

-

-<p>He had had, he reflected, no opportunity of private speech with his

-host this morning. If Mr. Carmody had decided to change his plans and

-deposit the suitcase in some other hiding place he might have done so

-in quite good faith without Soapy's knowledge. For all he knew, in

-mentally labelling Mr. Carmody as a fat, pop-eyed, crooked, swindling,

-pie-faced, double-crossing Judas, he might be doing him an injustice.

-Feeling calmer, though still anxious, he left the house and started

-toward the moat.</p>

-

-<p>Half-way down the garden, he encountered Sturgis, returning with an

-empty tray.</p>

-

-<p>"You must have misunderstood Mr. Carmody, sir," said the butler,

-genially, as one rabbit fancier to another. "He says he did not ask for

-any drink. But he came ashore and had it. If you're looking for him,

-you will find him in the boathouse."</p>

-

-<p>And in the boathouse Mr. Carmody was, lolling at his ease on the

-cushions of the punt, sipping the contents of a long glass.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo," said Mr. Carmody. "There you are."</p>

-

-<p>Soapy descended the steps. What he had to say was not the kind of thing

-a prudent man shouts at long range.</p>

-

-<p>"Say!" said Soapy in a cautious undertone. "I've been trying to get a

-word with you all the morning. But that darned policeman was around all

-the time."</p>

-

-<p>"Something on your mind?" said Mr. Carmody affably. "I've caught two

-perch, a bream, and a grayling," he added, finishing the contents of

-his glass with a good deal of relish.</p>

-

-<p>Such was the condition of Soapy's nervous system that he very nearly

-damned the perch, the bream, and the grayling, in the order named. But

-he checked himself in time. If ever, he felt, there was a moment when

-diplomacy was needed, this was it.</p>

-

-<p>"Listen," he said, "I've been thinking."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've been wondering if, after all, that closet you were going to put

-the stuff in is a safe place. Somebody might be apt to take a look in

-it. Maybe," said Soapy, tensely, "that occurred to you?"</p>

-

-<p>"What makes you think that?"</p>

-

-<p>"It just crossed my mind."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? I thought perhaps you might have been having a look in that

-cupboard yourself."</p>

-

-<p>Soapy moistened his lips, which had become uncomfortably dry.</p>

-

-<p>"But you locked it, surely?" he said.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I locked it," said Mr. Carmody. "But it struck me that after you

-had got the butler out of the way by telling him to bring me a drink,

-you might have thought of breaking the door open."</p>

-

-<p>In the silence which followed this devastating remark there suddenly

-made itself heard an odd, gurgling noise like a leaking cistern, and

-Soapy, gazing at his host, was shocked to observe that he had given

-himself up to an apoplectic spasm of laughter. Mr. Carmody's rotund

-body was quivering like a jelly. His eyes were closed, and he was

-rocking himself to and fro. And from his lips proceeded those hideous

-sounds of mirth.</p>

-

-<p>The hope which until this moment had been sustaining Soapy had never

-been a strong, robust hope. From birth it had been an invalid. And now,

-as he listened to this laughter, the poor, sickly thing coughed quietly

-and died.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh dear!" said Mr. Carmody, recovering. "Very funny. Very funny."</p>

-

-<p>"You think it's funny, do you?" said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"I do," said Mr. Carmody sincerely. "I wish I could have seen your face

-when you looked in that cupboard."</p>

-

-<p>Soapy had nothing to say. He was beaten, crushed, routed, and he knew

-it. He stared out hopelessly on a bleak world. Outside the boathouse

-the sun was still shining, but not for Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"I've seen through you all along, my man," proceeded Mr. Carmody, with

-ungenerous triumph. "Not from the very beginning, perhaps, because I

-really did suppose for a while that you were what you professed to be.

-The first thing that made me suspicious was when I cabled over to New

-York to make inquiries about a well-known financier named Thomas G.

-Molloy and was informed that no such person existed."</p>

-

-<p>Soapy did not speak. The bitterness of his meditations precluded words.

-His eyes were fixed on the trees and flowers on the other side of the

-water, and he was disliking these very much. Nature had done its best

-for the scene, and he thought Nature a washout.</p>

-

-<p>"And then," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "I listened outside the study window

-while you and your friends were having your little discussion. And

-I heard all I wanted to hear. Next time you have one of these board

-meetings of yours, Mr. Molloy, I suggest that you close the window and

-lower your voices."</p>

-

-<p>"Yeah?" said Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>It was not, he forced himself to admit, much of a retort, but it was

-the best he could think of. He was in the depths, and men who are in

-the depths seldom excel in the matter of rapier-like repartee.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought the matter over, and decided that my best plan was to allow

-matters to proceed. I was disappointed, of course, to discover that

-that cheque of yours for a million or two million or whatever it was

-would not be coming my way. But," said Mr. Carmody philosophically,

-"there is always the insurance money. It should amount to a nice little

-sum. Not what a man like you, accustomed to big transactions with Mr.

-Schwab and Pierpont Morgan, would call much, of course, but quite

-satisfactory to me."</p>

-

-<p>"You think so?" said Soapy, goaded to speech. "You think you're going

-to clean up on the insurance?"</p>

-

-<p>"I do."</p>

-

-<p>"Then, say, listen, let me tell you something. The insurance company

-is going to send a fellow down to inquire, isn't it? Well, what's to

-prevent me spilling the beans?"</p>

-

-<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>

-

-<p>"What's to keep me from telling him the burglary was a put-up job?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody smiled tranquilly.</p>

-

-<p>"Your good sense, I should imagine. How could you make such a story

-credible without involving yourself in more unpleasantness than I

-should imagine you would desire? I think I shall be able to rely on you

-for sympathetic silence, Mr. Molloy."</p>

-

-<p>"Yeah?"</p>

-

-<p>"I think so."</p>

-

-<p>And Soapy, reflecting, thought so, too. For the process of

-bean-spilling to be enjoyable, he realized, the conditions have to be

-right.</p>

-

-<p>"I am offering a little reward," said Mr. Carmody, gently urging the

-punt out into the open, "just to make everything seem more natural.

-One thousand pounds is the sum I am proposing to give for the recovery

-of this stolen property. You had better try for that. Well, I must not

-keep you here all the morning, chattering away like this. No doubt you

-have much to do."</p>

-

-<p>The punt floated out into the sunshine, and the roof of the boathouse

-hid this fat, conscienceless man from Soapy's eyes. From somewhere out

-in the great open spaces beyond came the sound of a paddle, wielded

-with a care-free joyousness. Whatever might be his guest's state of

-mind, Mr. Carmody was plainly in the pink.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy climbed the steps listlessly. The interview had left him weak

-and shaken. He brooded dully on this revelation of the inky depths of

-Lester Carmody's soul. It seemed to him that if this was what England's

-upper classes (who ought to be setting an example) were like, Great

-Britain could not hope to continue much longer as a first-class power,

-and it gave him in his anguish a little satisfaction to remember that

-in years gone by his ancestors had thrown off Britain's yoke. Beyond

-burning his eyebrows one Fourth of July, when a boy, with a maroon

-that exploded prematurely, he had never thought much about this affair

-before, but now he was conscious of a glow of patriotic fervour. If

-General Washington had been present at that moment Soapy would have

-shaken hands with him.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy wandered aimlessly through the sunlit garden. The little spurt

-of consolation caused by the reflection that some hundred and fifty

-years ago the United States of America had severed relations with a

-country which was to produce a man like Lester Carmody had long since

-ebbed away, leaving emptiness behind it. He was feeling very low, and

-in urgent need of one of those largely advertised tonics which claim to

-relieve Anæmia, Brain-Fag, Lassitude, Anxiety, Palpitations, Faintness,

-Melancholia, Exhaustion, Neurasthenia, Muscular Limpness, and

-Depression of Spirits. For he had got them all, especially brain-fag

-and melancholia; and the sudden appearance of Sturgis, fluttering

-toward him down the gravel path, provided nothing in the nature of a

-cure.</p>

-

-<p>He felt that he had had all he wanted of the butler's conversation.

-Even of the most stimulating society enough is enough, and to Soapy

-about half a minute of Sturgis seemed a good medium dose for an adult.

-He would have fled, but there was nowhere to go. He remained where he

-was, making his expression as forbidding as possible. A motion-picture

-director could have read that expression like a book. Soapy was

-registering deep disinclination to talk about rabbits.</p>

-

-<p>But for the moment, it appeared, Sturgis had put rabbits on one side.

-Other matters occupied his mind.</p>

-

-<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but have you seen Mr. John?"</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. who?"</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. John, sir."</p>

-

-<p>So deep was Soapy's preoccupation that for a moment the name conveyed

-nothing to him.</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Carmody's nephew, sir. Mr. Carroll."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? Yes, he went off in his car with my daughter."</p>

-

-<p>"Will he be gone long, do you think, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>Soapy could answer that one.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," he said. "He won't be back for some time."</p>

-

-<p>"You see, when I took Mr. Carmody his drink, sir, he told me to tell

-Bolt, the chauffeur, to give me the ticket."</p>

-

-<p>"What ticket?" asked Soapy wearily.</p>

-

-<p>The butler was only too glad to reply. He had feared that this talk of

-theirs might be about to end all too quickly, and these explanations

-helped to prolong it. And, now that he knew that there was no need to

-go on searching for John, his time was his own again.</p>

-

-<p>"It was a ticket for a bag which Mr. Carmody sent Bolt to leave at the

-cloak room at Shrub Hill station, in Worcester, this morning, sir. I

-now ascertain from Bolt that he gave it to Mr. John to give to Mr.

-Carmody."</p>

-

-<p>"What!" cried Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"And Mr. John has apparently gone off without giving it to him.

-However, no doubt it is quite safe. Did you make satisfactory progress

-with the hutch, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"The robert hutch, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>A look of concern came into Sturgis's face. His companion's manner was

-strange.</p>

-

-<p>"Is anything the matter, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Shall I bring you something to drink, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>Few men ever become so distrait that this particular question fails to

-penetrate. Soapy nodded feverishly. Something to drink was precisely

-what at this moment he felt he needed most. Moreover, the process of

-fetching it would relieve him for a time, at least, of the society of

-a butler who seemed to combine in equal proportions the outstanding

-characteristics of a porous plaster and a gadfly.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, sir."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>Soapy's mind was in a whirl. He could almost feel the brains inside his

-head heaving and tossing like an angry ocean. So that was what that

-smooth old crook had done with the stuff—stored it away in a Left

-Luggage office at a railway station! If circumstances had been such

-as to permit of a more impartial and detached attitude of mind, Soapy

-would have felt for Mr. Carmody's resource and ingenuity nothing but

-admiration. A Left Luggage office was an ideal place in which to store

-stolen property, as good as the innermost recesses of some safe deposit

-company's deepest vault.</p>

-

-<p>But, numerous as were the emotions surging in his bosom, admiration was

-not one of them. For a while he gave himself up almost entirely to that

-saddest of mental exercises, the brooding on what might have been. If

-only he had known that John had the ticket...!</p>

-

-<p>But he was a practical man. It was not his way to waste time torturing

-himself with thoughts of past failures. The future claimed his

-attention.</p>

-

-<p>What to do?</p>

-

-<p>All, he perceived, was not yet lost. It would be absurd to pretend

-that things were shaping themselves ideally, but disaster might still

-be retrieved. It would be embarrassing, no doubt, to meet Chimp Twist

-after what had occurred, but a man who would win to wealth must learn

-to put up with embarrassments. The only possible next move was to go

-over to Healthward Ho, reveal to Chimp what had occurred, and with his

-co-operation recover the ticket from John.</p>

-

-<p>Soapy brightened. Another possibility had occurred to him. If he were

-to reach Healthward Ho with the minimum of delay, it might be that

-he would find both Chimp and John still under the influence of those

-admirable drops, in which case a man of his resource would surely be

-able to insinuate himself into John's presence long enough to be able

-to remove a Left Luggage ticket from his person.</p>

-

-<p>But if 'twere done, then, 'twere well 'twere done quickly. What he

-needed was the Dex-Mayo. And the Dex-Mayo was standing outside the

-stable yard, waiting for him. He became a thing of dash and activity.

-For many years he had almost given up the exercise of running, but he

-ran now like the lissom athlete he had been in his early twenties.</p>

-

-<p>And as he came panting round the back of the house the first thing he

-saw was the tail end of the car disappearing into the stable yard.</p>

-

-<p>"Hi!" shouted Soapy, using for the purpose the last remains of his

-breath.</p>

-

-<p>The Dex-Mayo vanished. And Soapy, very nearly a spent force now,

-arrived at the opening of the stable yard just in time to see Bolt, the

-chauffeur, putting the key of the garage in his pocket after locking

-the door.</p>

-

-<p>Bolt was a thing of beauty. He gleamed in the sunshine. He was wearing

-a new hat, his Sunday clothes, and a pair of yellow shoes that might

-have been bits chipped off the sun itself. There was a carnation in his

-buttonhole. He would have lent tone to a garden party at Buckingham

-Palace.</p>

-

-<p>He regarded Soapy with interest.</p>

-

-<p>"Been having a little run, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"The car!" croaked Soapy.</p>

-

-<p>"I've just put it away, sir. Mr. Carmody has given me the day off to

-attend the wedding of the wife's niece over at Upton Snodsbury."</p>

-

-<p>"I want the car."</p>

-

-<p>"I've just put it away, sir," said Bolt, speaking more slowly and with

-the manner of one explaining something to an untutored foreigner. "Mr.

-Carmody has given me the day off. Mrs. Bolt's niece is being married

-over at Upton Snodsbury. And she's got a lovely day for it," said the

-chauffeur, glancing at the sky with something as near approval as a

-chauffeur ever permits himself. "Happy the bride that the sun shines

-on, they say. Not that I agree altogether with these old sayings. I

-know that when I and Mrs. Bolt was married it rained the whole time

-like cats and dogs, and we've been very happy. Very happy indeed

-we've been, taking it by and large. I don't say we haven't had our

-disagreements, but, taking it one way and another...."</p>

-

-<p>It began to seem to Soapy that the staffs of English country houses

-must be selected primarily for their powers of conversation. Every

-domestic with whom he had come in contact in Rudge Hall so far had

-at his disposal an apparently endless flow of lively small-talk.

-The butler, if you let him, would gossip all day about rabbits,

-and here was the chauffeur apparently settling down to dictate his

-autobiography. And every moment was precious!</p>

-

-<p>With a violent effort he contrived to take in a stock of breath.</p>

-

-<p>"I want the car, to go to Healthward Ho. I can drive it."</p>

-

-<p>The chauffeur's manner changed. Up till now he had been the cheery

-clubman meeting an old friend in the smoking room and drawing him aside

-for a long, intimate chat, but at this shocking suggestion he froze. He

-gazed at Soapy with horrified incredulity.</p>

-

-<p>"Drive the Dex-Mayo, sir?" he gasped.</p>

-

-<p>"Over to Healthward Ho."</p>

-

-<p>The crisis passed. Bolt swallowed convulsively and was himself once

-more. One must be patient, he realized, with laymen. They do not

-understand. When they come to a chauffeur and calmly propose that their

-vile hands shall touch his sacred steering-wheel they are not trying to

-be deliberately offensive. It is simply that they do not know.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm afraid that wouldn't quite do, sir," he said with a faint,

-reproving smile.</p>

-

-<p>"Do you think I can't drive?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not the Dex-Mayo you can't, sir." Bolt spoke a little curtly, for

-he had been much moved and was still shaken. "Mr. Carmody don't like

-nobody handling his car but me."</p>

-

-<p>"But I must go over to Healthward Ho. It's important. Business."</p>

-

-<p>The chauffeur reflected. Fundamentally he was a kindly man, who liked

-to do his Good Deed daily.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, sir, there's an old push-bike of mine lying in the stables. You

-could take that if you liked. It's a little rusty, not having been used

-for some time, but I dare say it would carry you as far as Healthward

-Ho."</p>

-

-<p>Soapy hesitated for a moment. The thought of a twenty-mile journey on

-a machine which he had always supposed to have become obsolete during

-his knickerbocker days made him quail a little. Then the thought of his

-mission lent him strength. He was a desperate man, and desperate men

-must do desperate things.</p>

-

-<p>"Fetch it out!" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Bolt fetched it out, and Soapy, looking upon it, quailed again.</p>

-

-<p>"Is that it?" he said dully.</p>

-

-<p>"That's it, sir," said the chauffeur.</p>

-

-<p>There was only one adjective to describe this push-bike—the adjective

-"blackguardly." It had that leering air, shared by some parrots and the

-baser variety of cat, of having seen and been jauntily familiar with

-all the sin of the world. It looked low and furtive. Its handle-bars

-curved up instead of down, it had gaps in its spokes, and its pedals

-were naked and unashamed. A sans-culotte of a bicycle. The sort of

-bicycle that snaps at strangers.</p>

-

-<p>"H'm!" said Soapy, ruminating.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Soapy, still ruminating.</p>

-

-<p>Then he remembered again how imperative was the need of reaching

-Healthward Ho somehow.</p>

-

-<p>"All right," he said, with a shudder.</p>

-

-<p>He climbed onto the machine, and after one majestic wobble passed

-through the gates into the park, pedalling bravely. As he disappeared

-from view, there floated back to Bolt, standing outside the stable

-yard, a single, agonized "Ouch!"</p>

-

-<p>Chauffeurs do not laugh, but they occasionally smile. Bolt smiled. He

-had been bitten by that bicycle himself.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>It was twenty minutes past one that butler Sturgis, dozing in his

-pantry, was jerked from slumber by the sound of the telephone bell.

-He had been hoping for an uninterrupted siesta, for he had had a

-perplexing and trying morning. First, on top of the most sensational

-night of his life, there had been all the nervous excitement of seeing

-policemen roaming about the place. Then the American gentleman, Mr.

-Molloy, had told him that Mr. Carmody wanted something to drink, and

-Mr. Carmody had denied having ordered it. Then Mr. Molloy had asked

-for a drink himself and had disappeared without waiting to get it.

-And, finally, there was the matter of the cupboard. Mr. Molloy, after

-starting to build a rabbit hutch, had apparently suspended operations

-in favour of smashing in the door of the cupboard at the foot of the

-stairs. It was all very puzzling to Sturgis, and, like most men of

-settled habit, he found the process of being puzzled upsetting.</p>

-

-<p>He went to the telephone, and a silver voice came to him over the wire.</p>

-

-<p>"Is this the Hall? I want to speak to Mr. Carroll."</p>

-

-<p>Sturgis recognized the voice.</p>

-

-<p>"Miss Wyvern?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. Is that Sturgis? I say, Sturgis, what has become of Mr. Carroll?

-I was expecting him here half an hour ago. Have you seen him about

-anywhere?"</p>

-

-<p>"I have not seen him since shortly after breakfast, miss. I understand

-that he went off in his little car with Miss Molloy."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss. Some time ago."</p>

-

-<p>There was silence at the other end of the wire.</p>

-

-<p>"With Miss Molloy?" said the silver voice flatly.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss."</p>

-

-<p>Silence again.</p>

-

-<p>"Did he say when he would be back?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, miss. But I understand that he was not proposing to return till

-quite late in the day."</p>

-

-<p>More silence.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss. Any message I can give him?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, thank you.... No...! No, it doesn't matter."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, miss."</p>

-

-<p>Sturgis returned to his pantry. Pat, hanging up the receiver, went out

-into her garden. Her face was set, and her lips compressed.</p>

-

-<p>A snail crossed her path. She did not tread on it, for she had a kind

-heart, but she gave it a look. It was a look which, had it reached

-John, at whom it was really directed, would have scorched him.</p>

-

-<p>She walked to the gate and stood leaning on it, staring straight before

-her.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>It had been the opinion of Dolly Molloy, expressed during her

-conversation with Mr. Twist, that John, on awaking from his drugged

-slumber, would find himself suffering a headache. The event proved her

-a true prophet.</p>

-

-<p>John, as became one who prized physical fitness, had been all his life

-a rather unusually abstemious young man. But on certain rare occasions

-dotted through the years of his sojourn at Oxford he had permitted

-himself to relax. As for instance, the night of his twenty-first

-birthday ... Boat-Race Night in his freshman year ... and, perhaps

-most notable of all, the night of the university football match in

-the season when he had first found a place in the Oxford team and

-had helped to win one of the most spectacular games ever seen at

-Twickenham. To celebrate each of these events he had lapsed from his

-normal austerity, and every time had wakened on the morrow to a world

-full of grayness and horror and sharp, shooting pains. But never had he

-experienced anything to compare with what he was feeling now.</p>

-

-<p>He was dimly conscious that strange things must have been happening to

-him, and that these things had ended by depositing him on a strange

-bed in a strange room, but he was at present in no condition to give

-his situation any sustained thought. He merely lay perfectly still,

-concentrating all his powers on the difficult task of keeping his head

-from splitting in half.</p>

-

-<p>When eventually, moving with exquisite care, he slid from the bed and

-stood up, the first thing of which he became aware was that the sun

-had sunk so considerably that it was now shining almost horizontally

-through the barred window of the room. The air, moreover, which

-accompanied its rays through the window had that cool fragrance which

-indicates the approach of evening.</p>

-

-<p>Poets have said some good things in their time about this particular

-hour of the day, but to John on this occasion it brought no romantic

-thoughts. He was merely bewildered. He had started out from Rudge not

-long after eleven in the morning, and here it was late afternoon.</p>

-

-<p>He moved to the window, feeling like Rip van Winkle. And presently the

-sweet air, playing about his aching brow, restored him so considerably

-that he was able to make deductions and arrive at the truth. The last

-thing he could recollect was the man Twist handing him a tall glass. In

-that glass, it now became evident, must have lurked the cause of all

-his troubles. With an imbecile lack of the most elementary caution,

-inexcusable in one who had been reading detective stories all his life,

-he had allowed himself to be drugged.</p>

-

-<p>It was a bitter thought, but he was not permitted to dwell on it for

-long. Gradually, driving everything else from his mind, there stole

-upon him the realization that unless he found something immediately

-to slake the thirst which was burning him up he would perish of

-spontaneous combustion. There was a jug on the wash stand, and,

-tottering to it, he found it mercifully full to the brim. For the next

-few moments he was occupied, to the exclusion of all other mundane

-matters, with the task of seeing how much of the contents of this jug

-he could swallow without pausing for breath.</p>

-

-<p>This done, he was at leisure to look about him and examine the position

-of affairs.</p>

-

-<p>That he was a prisoner was proved directly he tested the handle of the

-door. And, as further evidence, there were those bars on the window.

-Whatever else might be doubtful, the one thing certain was that he

-would have to remain in this room until somebody came along and let him

-out.</p>

-

-<p>His first reaction on making this discovery was a feeling of irritation

-at the silliness of the whole business. Where was the sense of it? Did

-this man Twist suppose that in the heart of peaceful Worcestershire he

-could immure a fellow for ever in an upper room of his house?</p>

-

-<p>And then his clouded intellect began to function more nimbly. Twist's

-behaviour, he saw, was not so childish as he had supposed. It had been

-imperative for him to gain time in order to get away with his loot;

-and, John realized, he had most certainly gained it. And the longer

-he remained in this room, the more complete would be the scoundrel's

-triumph.</p>

-

-<p>John became active. He went to the door again and examined it

-carefully. A moment's inspection showed him that nothing was to be

-hoped for from that quarter. A violent application of his shoulder did

-not make the solid oak so much as quiver.</p>

-

-<p>He tried the window. The bars were firm. Tugging had no effect on them.</p>

-

-<p>There seemed to John only one course to pursue.</p>

-

-<p>He shouted.</p>

-

-<p>It was an injudicious move. The top of his head did not actually come

-off, but it was a very near thing. By a sudden clutch at both temples

-he managed to avert disaster in the nick of time, and tottered weakly

-to the bed. There for some minutes he remained while unseen hands drove

-red-hot rivets into his skull.</p>

-

-<p>Presently the agony abated. He was able to rise again and make his way

-feebly to the jug, which he had now come to look on as his only friend

-in the world.</p>

-

-<p>He had just finished his second non-stop draught when something

-attracted his notice out of the corner of his eye, and he saw that in

-the window beside him were framed a head and shoulders.</p>

-

-<p>"Hoy!" observed the head in a voice like a lorry full of steel girders

-passing over cobblestones. "I've brought you a cuppertea."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>The head was red in colour and ornamented half-way down by a large and

-impressive moustache, waxed at the ends. The shoulders were broad and

-square, the eyes prawn-like. The whole apparition, in short, one could

-tell at a glance, was a sample or first instalment of the person of

-a sergeant-major. And unless he had dropped from heaven—which, from

-John's knowledge of sergeant-majors, seemed unlikely—the newcomer

-must be standing on top of a ladder.</p>

-

-<p>And such, indeed, was the case. Sergeant-Major Flannery, though no

-acrobat, had nobly risked life and limb by climbing to this upper

-window to see how his charge was getting on and to bring him a little

-refreshment.</p>

-

-<p>"Take your cuppertea, young fellow," said Mr. Flannery.</p>

-

-<p>The hospitality had arrived too late. In the matter of tea-drinking

-John was handicapped by the fact that he had just swallowed

-approximately a third of a jug of water. He regretted to be compelled

-to reject the contribution for lack of space. But as what he desired

-most at the moment was human society and conversation, he advanced

-eagerly to the window.</p>

-

-<p>"Who are you?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"Flannery's my name, young fellow."</p>

-

-<p>"How did I get here?"</p>

-

-<p>"In that room?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"I put you there."</p>

-

-<p>"You did, did you?" said John. "Open this door at once, damn you!"</p>

-

-<p>The Sergeant-Major shook his head.</p>

-

-<p>"Language!" he said reprovingly. "Profanity won't do you no good, young

-man. Cursing and swearing won't 'elp you. You just drink your cuppertea

-and don't let's have no nonsense. If you'd made a 'abit in the past of

-drinking more tea and less of the other thing, you wouldn't be in what

-I may call your present predicament."</p>

-

-<p>"Will you open this door?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir. I will not open that door. There aren't going to be no doors

-opened till your conduct and behaviour has been carefully examined in

-the course of a day or so and we can be sure there'll be no verlence."</p>

-

-<p>"Listen," said John, curbing a desire to jab at this man through the

-bars with the teaspoon. "I don't know who you are...."</p>

-

-<p>"Flannery's the name, sir, as I said before. Sergeant-Major Flannery."</p>

-

-<p>"... but I can't believe you're in this business...."</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed I am, sir. I am Doctor Twist's assistant."</p>

-

-<p>"But this man is a criminal, you fool...."</p>

-

-<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery seemed pained rather than annoyed.</p>

-

-<p>"Come, come, sir. A little civility, if you please. This, what I may

-call contumacious attitude, isn't helping you. Surely you can see that

-for yourself? Always remember, sir, the voice with the smile wins."</p>

-

-<p>"This fellow Twist burgled our house last night. And all the while

-you're keeping me shut up here he's getting away."</p>

-

-<p>"Is that so, sir? What house would that be?"</p>

-

-<p>"Rudge Hall."</p>

-

-<p>"Never heard of it."</p>

-

-<p>"It's near Rudge-in-the-Vale. Twenty miles from here. Mr. Carmody's

-place."</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Lester Carmody who was here taking the cure?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. I'm his nephew."</p>

-

-<p>"His nephew, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Come, come!"</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"It so 'appens," said Mr. Flannery, with quiet satisfaction, removing

-one hand from the window bars in order to fondle his moustache, "that

-I've seen Mr. Carmody's nephew. Tallish, thinnish, pleasant-faced young

-fellow. He was over here to visit Mr. Carmody during the latter's

-temp'ry residence. I had him pointed out to me."</p>

-

-<p>Painful though the process was, John felt compelled to grit his teeth.</p>

-

-<p>"That was Mr. Carmody's other nephew."</p>

-

-<p>"Other nephew, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"My cousin."</p>

-

-<p>"Your cousin, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"His name's Hugo."</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Good God!" cried John. "Are you a parrot?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery, if he had not been standing on a ladder, would no doubt

-have drawn himself up haughtily at this outburst. Being none too

-certain of his footing, he contented himself with looking offended.</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir," he said with a dignity which became him well, "in reply to

-your question, I am not a parrot. I am a salaried assistant at Doctor

-Twist's health-establishment, detailed to look after the patients and

-keep them away from the cigarettes and see that they do their exercises

-in a proper manner. And, as I said to the young lady, I understand

-human nature and am a match for artfulness of any description. What's

-more, it was precisely this kind of artfulness on your part that

-the young lady warned me against. 'Be careful, Sergeant-Major,' she

-said to me, clasping her 'ands in what I may call an agony of appeal,

-'that this poor, misguided young son of a what-not don't come it over

-you with his talk about being the Lost Heir of some family living in

-the near neighbourhood. Because he's sure to try it on, you can take

-it from me, Sergeant-Major,' she said. And I said to the young lady,

-'Miss,' I said, 'he won't come it over Egbert Flannery. Not him. I've

-seen too much of that sort of thing, miss,' I said. And the young lady

-said, 'Gawd's strewth, Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'I wish there was

-more men in the world like you, Sergeant-Major, because then it would

-be a dam' sight better place than it is, Sergeant-Major.'" He paused.

-Then, realizing an omission, added the words, "she said."</p>

-

-<p>John clutched at his throbbing head.</p>

-

-<p>"Young lady? What young lady?"</p>

-

-<p>"You know well enough what young lady, sir. The young lady what brought

-you here to leave you in our charge. That young lady."</p>

-

-<p>"That young lady?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir. The one who brought you here."</p>

-

-<p>"Brought me here?"</p>

-

-<p>"And left you in our charge."</p>

-

-<p>"Left me in your charge?"</p>

-

-<p>"Come, come, sir!" said Mr. Flannery. "Are you a parrot?"</p>

-

-<p>The adroit thrust made no impression on John. His mind was too busy

-to recognize it for what it was—viz., about the cleverest repartee

-ever uttered by a non-commissioned officer of His Majesty's regular

-forces. A monstrous suspicion had smitten him, with the effect almost

-of a physical blow. Suspicion? It was more than a suspicion. If it was

-at Dolly Molloy's request that he was now locked up in this infernal

-room, then, bizarre as it might seem, Dolly Molloy must in some way be

-connected with the nefarious activities of the man Twist. The links

-that connected the two might be obscure, but as to the fact there could

-be no doubt whatever.</p>

-

-<p>"You mean ..." he gasped.</p>

-

-<p>"I mean your sister, sir, who brought you over here in her car."</p>

-

-<p>"What! That was my car."</p>

-

-<p>"No, no, sir, that won't do. I saw her myself driving off in it some

-hours ago. She waved her 'and to me," said Mr. Flannery, caressing his

-moustache and allowing a note of tender sentiment to creep into his

-voice. "Yes, sir! She turned and waved her 'and."</p>

-

-<p>John made no reply. He was beyond speech. Trifling though it might seem

-to an insurance company in comparison with the loss of Rudge Hall's

-more valuable treasures, the theft of the two-seater smote him a blow

-from which he could not hope to rally. He loved his Widgeon Seven. He

-had nursed it, tended it, oiled it, watered it, watched over it in

-sickness and in health as if it had been a baby sister. And now it had

-gone.</p>

-

-<p>"Look here!" he cried feverishly. "You must let me out of here. At

-once!"</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir. I promised your sister...."</p>

-

-<p>"She isn't my sister! I haven't got a sister! Good heavens, man, can't

-you understand...."</p>

-

-<p>"I understand very well, sir. Artfulness! I was prepared for it."

-Sergeant-Major Flannery paused for an instant. "The young lady," he

-said dreamily, "was afraid, too, that you might try to bribe me. She

-warned me most particular."</p>

-

-<p>John did not speak. His Widgeon Seven! Gone!</p>

-

-<p>"Bribe me!" repeated Sergeant-Major Flannery, his eyes widening. It was

-evident that the mere thought of such a thing sickened this good man.

-"She said you would try to bribe me to let you go."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you can make your mind easy," said John between his teeth. "I

-haven't any money."</p>

-

-<p>There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Flannery said "Ho!" in a rather

-short manner. And silence fell again.</p>

-

-<p>It was broken by the Sergeant-Major, in a moralizing vein.</p>

-

-<p>"It's a wonder to me," he said, and there was peevishness in his

-voice, "that a young fellow with a lovely sister like what you've got

-can bring himself to lower himself to the beasts of the field, as

-the saying is. Drink in moderation is one thing. Mopping it up and

-becoming verlent and a nuisance to all is another. If you'd ever seen

-one of them lantern slides showing what alcohol does to the liver of

-the excessive drinker maybe you'd have pulled up sharp while there

-was time. And not," said the Sergeant-Major, still with that oddly

-querulous note in his voice, "have wasted all your money on what could

-only do you 'arm. If you 'adn't of give in so to your self-indulgence

-and what I may call besottedness, you would now 'ave your pocket full

-of money to spend how you fancied." He sighed. "Your cuppertea's got

-cold," he said moodily.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't want any tea."</p>

-

-<p>"Then I'll be leaving you," said Mr. Flannery. "If you require

-anything, press the bell. Nobody'll take any notice of it."</p>

-

-<p>He withdrew cautiously down the ladder, and, having paused at the

-bottom to shake his head reproachfully, disappeared from view.</p>

-

-<p>John did not miss him. His desire for company had passed. What

-he wanted now was to be alone and to think. Not that there was

-any likelihood of his thoughts being pleasant ones. The more he

-contemplated the iniquity of the Molloy family, the deeper did the iron

-enter into his soul. If ever he set eyes on Thomas G. Molloy again....</p>

-

-<p>He set eyes on him again, oddly enough, at this very moment. From where

-he stood, looking out through the bars of the window, there was visible

-to him a considerable section of the drive. And up the drive at this

-juncture, toiling painfully, came Mr. Molloy in person, seated on a

-bicycle.</p>

-

-<p>As John craned his neck and glared down with burning eyes, the rider

-dismounted, and the bicycle, which appeared to have been waiting for

-the chance, bit him neatly in the ankle with its left pedal. John was

-too far away to hear the faint cry of agony which escaped the suffering

-man, but he could see his face. It was a bright crimson face, powdered

-with dust, and its features were twisted in anguish.</p>

-

-<p>John went back to the jug and took another long drink. In the spectacle

-just presented to him he had found a faint, feeble glimmering of

-consolation.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>On leaving John, Sergeant-Major Flannery's first act was to go to

-what he was accustomed to call the orderly room and make his report.

-He reached it only a few minutes after its occupant's return to

-consciousness. Chimp Twist had opened his eyes and staggered to his

-feet at just about the moment when the Sergeant-Major was offering John

-the cup of tea.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist's initial discovery, like John's, was that he had a headache.

-He then set himself to try to decide where he was. His mind clearing

-a little, he was enabled to gather that he was in England ... and,

-assembling the facts by degrees, in his study at Healthward Ho

-(formerly Graveney Court), Worcestershire. After that, everything came

-back to him, and he stood holding to the table with one hand and still

-grasping the lily with the other, and gave himself up to scorching

-reflections on the subject of the resourceful Mrs. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>He was still busy with these when there was a forceful knock on the

-door and Sergeant-Major Flannery entered.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp's grip of the table tightened. He held himself together like one

-who sees a match set to a train of gunpowder and awaits the shattering

-explosion. His visitor's lips had begun to move, and Chimp could

-guess how that parade-ground voice was going to sound to a man with a

-headache like his.</p>

-

-<p>"H'rarp-h'm," began Mr. Flannery, clearing his throat, and Chimp with

-a sharp cry reeled to a chair and sank into it. The noise had hit him

-like a shell. He cowered where he sat, peering at the Sergeant-Major

-with haggard eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo-er!" boomed Mr. Flannery, noting these symptoms. "You aren't

-looking up to the mark, Mr. Twist."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp dropped the lily, feeling the necessity of having both hands

-free. He found he experienced a little relief if he put the palms over

-his eyes and pressed hard.</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you what it is, sir," roared the sympathetic Sergeant-Major.

-"What's 'appened 'ere is that that nasty, feverish cold of yours

-has gone and struck inwards. It's left your 'ead and has penetrated

-internally to your vitals. If only you'd have took taraxacum and hops

-like I told you...."</p>

-

-<p>"Go away!" moaned Chimp, adding in a low voice what seemed to him a

-suitable destination.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery regarded him with mild reproach.</p>

-

-<p>"There's nothing gained, Mr. Twist, by telling me to get to 'ell out of

-here. I've merely come for the single and simple reason that I thought

-you would wish to know I've had a conversation with the verlent case

-upstairs, and the way it looks to me, sir, subject to your approval, is

-that it 'ud be best not to let him out from under lock and key for some

-time to come. True, 'e did not attempt anything in the nature of actual

-physical attack, being prevented no doubt by the fact that there was

-iron bars between him and me, but his manner throughout was peculiar,

-not to say odd, and I recommend that all communications be conducted

-till further notice through the window."</p>

-

-<p>"Do what you like," said Chimp faintly.</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't what I like, sir," bellowed Mr. Flannery virtuously. "It's

-what you like and instruct, me being in your employment and only 'ere

-to carry out your orders smartly as you give them. And there's one

-other matter, sir. As perhaps you are aware, the young lady went off in

-the little car ..."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't talk to me about the young lady."</p>

-

-<p>"I was only about to say, Mr. Twist, that you will doubtless be

-surprised to hear that for some reason or another, having started to

-go off in the little car, the young lady apparently decided on second

-thoughts to continue her journey by train. She left the little car at

-Lowick Station, with instructions that it be returned 'ere. I found

-that young Jakes, the station-master's son, outside with it a moment

-ago. Tooting the 'orn, he was, the young rascal, and saying he wanted

-half a crown. Using my own discretion, I gave him sixpence. You may

-reimburse me at your leisure and when convenient. Shall I take the

-little car and put it in the garridge, sir?"</p>

-

-<p>Chimp gave eager assent to this proposition, as he would have done

-to any proposition which appeared to carry with it the prospect of

-removing this man from his presence.</p>

-

-<p>"It's funny, the young lady leaving the little car at the station,

-sir," mused Mr. Flannery in a voice that shook the chandelier. "I

-suppose she happened to reach there at a moment when a train was

-signalled and decided that she preferred not to overtax her limited

-strength by driving to London. I fancy she must have had London as her

-objective."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp fancied so, too. A picture rose before his eyes of Dolly and

-Soapy revelling together in the metropolis, with the loot of Rudge Hall

-bestowed in some safe place where he would never, never be able to get

-at it. The picture was so vivid that he uttered a groan.</p>

-

-<p>"Where does it catch you, sir?" asked Mr. Flannery solicitously.</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"The pain, sir. The agony. You appear to be suffering. If you take

-my advice, you'll get off to bed and put an 'ot-water bottle on your

-stummick. Lay it right across the abdomen, sir. It may dror the poison

-out. I had an old aunt...."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't want to hear about your aunt."</p>

-

-<p>"Very good, sir. Just as you wish."</p>

-

-<p>"Tell me about her some other time."</p>

-

-<p>"Any time that suits you, sir," said Mr. Flannery agreeably. "Well,

-I'll be off and putting the little car in the garridge."</p>

-

-<p>He left the room, and Chimp, withdrawing his hands from his eyes,

-gave himself up to racking thought. A man recovering from knock-out

-drops must necessarily see things in a jaundiced light, but it is

-scarcely probable that, even had he been in robust health, Mr. Twist's

-meditations would have been much pleasanter. Condensed, they resolved

-themselves, like John's, into a passionate wish that he could meet

-Soapy Molloy again, if only for a moment.</p>

-

-<p>And he had hardly decided that such a meeting was the only thing which

-life now had to offer, when the door opened again and the maid appeared.</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Molloy to see you, sir."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp started from his chair.</p>

-

-<p>"Show him in," he said in a tense, husky voice.</p>

-

-<p>There was a shuffling noise without, and Soapy appeared in the doorway.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>The progress of Mr. Molloy across the threshold of Chimp Twist's study

-bore a striking resemblance to that of some spent runner breasting

-the tape at the conclusion of a more than usually gruelling Marathon

-race. His hair was disordered, his face streaked with dust and heat,

-and his legs acted so independently of his body that they gave him an

-odd appearance of moving in several directions at once. An unbiassed

-observer, seeing him, could not but have felt a pang of pity for this

-wreck of what had once, apparently, been a fine, upstanding man.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp was not an unbiassed observer. He did not pity his old business

-partner. Judging from a first glance, Soapy Molloy seemed to him to

-have been caught in some sort of machinery, and subsequently run over

-by several motor lorries, and Chimp was glad of it. He would have liked

-to seek out the man in charge of that machinery and the drivers of

-those lorries, and reward them handsomely.</p>

-

-<p>"So here you are!" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy, navigating cautiously, backed and filled in the direction

-of the armchair. Reaching it after considerable difficulty, he

-gripped its sides and lowered himself with infinite weariness. A sharp

-exclamation escaped him as he touched the cushions. Then, sinking back,

-he closed his eyes and immediately went to sleep.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp gazed down at him, seething with resentment that made his head

-ache worse than ever. That Soapy should have had the cold, callous

-crust to come to Healthward Ho at all after what had happened was

-sufficiently infuriating. That, having come, he should proceed without

-a word of explanation or apology to treat the study as a bedroom was

-more than Chimp could endure. Stooping down, he gripped his old friend

-by his luxuriant hair and waggled his head smartly from side to side

-several times. The treatment proved effective. Soapy sat up.</p>

-

-<p>"Eh?" he said, blinking.</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"Which...? Why...? Where am I?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you where you are."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh!" said Mr. Molloy, intelligence returning.</p>

-

-<p>He sank back among the cushions again. Now that the first agony of

-contact was over he was finding their softness delightful. In the

-matter of seats, a man who has ridden twenty miles on an elderly

-push-bicycle becomes an exacting critic.</p>

-

-<p>"Gee! I feel bad!" he murmured.</p>

-

-<p>It was a natural remark, perhaps, for a man in his condition to make,

-but it had the effect of adding several degrees Fahrenheit to his

-companion's already impressive warmth. For some moments Chimp Twist,

-wrestling with his emotion, could find no form of self-expression

-beyond a curious spluttering noise.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, "I feel bad. All the way over here on

-a bicycle, Chimpie, that's where I've been. It's in the calf of the leg

-that it gets me principally. There and around the instep. And I wish I

-had a dollar for every bruise those darned pedals have made on me."</p>

-

-<p>"And what about me?" demanded Chimp, at last ceasing to splutter.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, wistfully, "I certainly wish someone would

-come along and offer me even as much as fifty cents for every bruise

-I've gotten from the ankles upwards. They've come out on me like a rash

-or something."</p>

-

-<p>"If you had my headache...."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I've a headache, too," said Mr. Molloy. "It was the hot sun

-beating down on my neck that did it. There were times when I thought

-really I'd have to pass the thing up. Say, if you knew what I feel

-like...."</p>

-

-<p>"And how about what I feel like?" shrilled Mr. Twist, quivering with

-self-pity. "A nice thing that was that wife of yours did to me! A fine

-trick to play on a business partner! Slipping stuff into my highball

-that laid me out cold. Is that any way to behave? Is that a system?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy considered the point.</p>

-

-<p>"The madam is a mite impulsive," he admitted.</p>

-

-<p>"And leaving me laying there and putting a lily in my hand!"</p>

-

-<p>"That was her playfulness," explained Mr. Molloy. "Girls will have

-their bit of fun."</p>

-

-<p>"Fun! Say...."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy felt that it was time to point the moral.</p>

-

-<p>"It was your fault, Chimpie. You brought it on yourself by acting

-greedy and trying to get the earth. If you hadn't stood us up for that

-sixty-five—thirty-five of yours, all this would never have happened.

-Naturally no high-spirited girl like the madam wasn't going to stand

-for nothing like that. But listen while I tell you what I've come

-about. If you're willing to can all that stuff and have a fresh deal

-and a square one this time—one-third to me, one-third to you, and one-third to the madam—I'll put you hep to something that'll make you feel

-good. Yes, sir, you'll go singing about the house."</p>

-

-<p>"The only thing you could tell me that would make me feel good,"

-replied Chimp, churlishly, "would be that you'd tumbled off of that

-bicycle of yours and broken your damned neck."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy was pained.</p>

-

-<p>"Is that nice, Chimpie?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist wished to know if, in the circumstances and after what had

-occurred, Mr. Molloy expected him to kiss him. Mr. Molloy said No, but

-where was the sense of harsh words? Where did harsh words get anybody?

-When had harsh words ever paid any dividend?</p>

-

-<p>"If you had a headache like mine, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy,

-reproachfully, "you'd know how it felt to sit and listen to an old

-friend giving you the razz."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp was obliged to struggle for a while with a sudden return of his

-spluttering.</p>

-

-<p>"A headache like yours? Where do you get that stuff? My headache's a

-darned sight worse than your headache."</p>

-

-<p>"It couldn't be, Chimpie."</p>

-

-<p>"If you want to know what a headache really is, you take some of those

-kayo drops you're so fond of."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, putting that on one side," said Mr. Molloy, wisely forbearing to

-argue, "let me tell you what I've come here about. Chimpie, that guy

-Carmody has double-crossed us. He was on to us from the start."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir. I had it from his own lips in person. And do you know what

-he done? He took that stuff out of the closet and sent his chauffeur

-over to Worcester to put it in the Left Luggage place at the depôt

-there."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

-

-<p>"Gee!" said Mr. Twist, impressed. "That was smooth. Then you haven't

-got it, do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. I haven't got it."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Twist had never expected to feel anything in the nature of elation

-that day or for many days to come, but at these words something like

-ecstasy came upon him. He uttered a delighted laugh, which, owing to

-sudden agony in the head, changed to a muffled howl.</p>

-

-<p>"So, after all your smartness," he said, removing his hands from his

-temples as the spasm passed, "you're no better off than what I am?"</p>

-

-<p>"We're both sitting pretty, Chimpie, if we get together and act quick."</p>

-

-<p>"How's that? Act how?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you. This chauffeur guy left the stuff and brought home the

-ticket...."</p>

-

-<p>"... and gave it to old man Carmody, I suppose? Well, where does that

-get us?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir! He didn't give it to old man Carmody. He gave it to that

-young Carroll fellow!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>The significance of the information was not lost upon Chimp. He stared

-at Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Carroll?" he said. "You mean the bird upstairs?"</p>

-

-<p>"Is he upstairs?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure he's upstairs. Locked in a room with bars on the window. You're

-certain he has the ticket?"</p>

-

-<p>"I know he has. So all we've got to do now is get it off him."</p>

-

-<p>"That's all?"</p>

-

-<p>"That's all."</p>

-

-<p>"And how," inquired Chimp, "do you propose to do it?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy made no immediate reply. The question was one which, in the

-intervals of dodging the pedals of his bicycle, he had been asking

-himself ever since he had left Rudge Hall. He had hoped that in the

-enthusiasm of the moment some spontaneous solution would leap from his

-old friend's lips, but it was plain that this was not to be.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought maybe you would think of a way, Chimpie," he was compelled

-to confess.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh? Me, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"You're smart," said Mr. Molloy, deferentially. "You've got a head.

-Whatever anyone's said about you, no one's ever denied that. You'll

-think of a way."</p>

-

-<p>"I will, will I? And while I'm doing it, you'll just sit back, I

-suppose, and have a nice rest? And all you're suggesting that I'm to

-get out of it...."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, Chimpie!" quavered Mr. Molloy. He had feared this development.</p>

-

-<p>"... is a measly one-third. Say, let me tell you...."</p>

-

-<p>"Now, Chimpie," urged Mr. Molloy, with unshed tears in his voice,

-"let's not start all that over again. We settled the terms. Gentlemen's

-agreement. It's all fixed."</p>

-

-<p>"Is it? Come down out of the clouds, you're scaring the birds. What I

-want now, if I'm going to do all the work and help you out of a tough

-spot, is seventy-thirty."</p>

-

-<p>"Seventy-thirty!' echoed Mr. Molloy, appalled.</p>

-

-<p>"And if you don't like it let's hear you suggest a way of getting that

-ticket off of that guy upstairs. Maybe you'd like to go up and have

-a talk with him? If he's feeling anything like the way I felt when I

-came to after those kayo drops of yours, he'll be glad to see you. What

-does it matter to you if he pulls your head off and drops it out of the

-window? You can only live once, so what the hell!"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy gazed dismally before him. Never a very inventive man,

-his bicycle ride had left him even less capable of inspiration than

-usual. He had to admit himself totally lacking in anything resembling

-a constructive plan of campaign. He yearned for his dear wife's gentle

-presence. Dolly was the bright one of the family. In a crisis like this

-she would have been full of ideas, each one a crackerjack.</p>

-

-<p>"We can't keep him locked up in that room for ever," he said unhappily.</p>

-

-<p>"We don't have to—not if you agree to my seventy-thirty."</p>

-

-<p>"Have you thought of a way, then?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure I've thought of a way."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy's depression became more marked than ever. He knew what this

-meant. The moment he gave up the riddle that miserable little Chimp

-would come out with some scheme which had been staring him in the face

-all along, if only he had had the intelligence to see it.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" said Chimp. "Think quick. And remember, thirty's better than

-nothing. And don't say, when I've told you, that it's just the idea

-you've had yourself from the start."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy urged his weary brain to one last spurt of activity, but

-without result. He was a specialist. He could sell shares in phantom

-oil wells better than anybody on either side of the Atlantic, but there

-he stopped. Outside his specialty he was almost a total loss.</p>

-

-<p>"All right, Chimpie," he sighed, facing the inevitable.</p>

-

-<p>"Seventy-thirty?"</p>

-

-<p>"Seventy-thirty. Though how I'm to break it to the madam, I don't know.

-She won't like it, Chimpie. It'll be a nasty blow for the madam."</p>

-

-<p>"I hope it chokes her," said Chimp, unchivalrously. "Her and her

-lilies! Well, then. Here's what we do. When Flannery takes the guy his

-coffee and eggs to-morrow, there'll be something in the pot besides

-coffee. There'll be some of those kayo drops of yours. And then all we

-have to do is just simply walk upstairs and dig the ticket out of his

-clothes and there we are."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy uttered an agonized cry. His presentiment had been correct.</p>

-

-<p>"I'd have thought of that myself ..." he wailed.</p>

-

-<p>"Sure you would," replied Chimp, comfortably, "if you'd of had

-something that wasn't a hubbard squash or something where your head

-ought to be. Those just-as-good imitation heads never pay in the long

-run. What you ought to do is sell yours for what it'll fetch and get a

-new one. And next time," said Chimp, "make it a prettier one."</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>The dawn of what promised to be an eventful day broke grayly over

-Healthward Ho. By seven o'clock, however, the sun had forced its way

-through the mists and at eight precisely one of its rays, stealing

-in at an upper window, fell upon Sergeant-Major Flannery, lovely in

-sleep. He grunted, opened his eyes, and, realizing that another morning

-had arrived with all its manifold tasks and responsibilities, heaved

-himself out of bed and after a few soldierly setting-up exercises began

-his simple toilet. This completed, he made his way to the kitchen,

-where a fragrant smell of bacon and coffee announced that breakfast

-awaited him.</p>

-

-<p>His companions in the feast, Rosa, the maid, and Mrs. Evans, the cook,

-greeted him with the respectful warmth due to a man of his position

-and gifts. However unpopular Mr. Flannery might be with the resident

-patients of Healthward Ho—and Admiral Sir James Rigby-Rudd, for one,

-had on several occasions expressed a wistful desire to skin him—he

-was always sure of a hearty welcome below stairs. Rosa worshipped his

-moustache, and Mrs. Evans found his conversation entertaining.</p>

-

-<p>To-day, however, though the moustache was present in all its pristine

-glory, the conversation was lacking. Usually it was his custom,

-before so much as spearing an egg, to set things going brightly with

-some entertaining remark on the state of the weather or possibly the

-absorbing description of a dream which he had had in the night, but

-this morning he sat silent—or as nearly silent as he could ever be

-when eating.</p>

-

-<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Flannery," said Mrs. Evans, piqued. The

-Sergeant-Major started. It came to him that he had been remiss.</p>

-

-<p>"I was thinking, ma'am," he said, poising a forkful of bacon, "of what

-I may call the sadness of life."</p>

-

-<p>"Life is sad," agreed Mrs. Evans.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah!" said Rosa, the maid, who, being a mere slip of a girl and only

-permitted to join in these symposia as a favour, should not have spoken

-at all.</p>

-

-<p>"That verlent case upstairs," proceeded Mr. Flannery, swallowing the

-bacon and forking up another load. "Now, there's something that makes

-your heart bleed, if I may use the expression at the breakfast table.

-That young fellow, no doubt, started out in life with everything

-pointing to a happy and prosperous career.</p>

-

-<p>"Good home, good education, everything. And just because he's allowed

-himself to fall into bad 'abits, there he is under lock and key, so to

-speak."</p>

-

-<p>"Can he get out?" asked Rosa. It was a subject which she and the cook

-discussed in alarmed whispers far into the night.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery raised his eyebrows.</p>

-

-<p>"No, he cannot get out. And, if he did, you wouldn't have nothing to

-fear, not with me around."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm sure it's a comfort feeling that you are around, Mr. Flannery,"

-said Mrs. Evans.</p>

-

-<p>"Almost the very words the young fellow's sister said to me when she

-left him here," rumbled Mr. Flannery complacently. "She said to me,

-'Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'it's such a relief to feel that there's

-someone like you 'ere, Sergeant-Major,' she said. 'I'm sure you're

-wonderful in any kind of an emergency, Sergeant-Major,' she said." He

-sighed. "It's thinking of 'er that brings home the sadness of it all to

-a man, if you understand me. What I mean, here's that beautiful young

-creature racked with anxiety, as the saying is, on account of this

-worthless brother of hers...."</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa.</p>

-

-<p>An awful silence followed these words, the sort of silence that would

-fall upon a housekeeper's room if, supposing such a thing possible,

-some young under-footman were to contradict the butler. Sergeant-Major

-Flannery's eyes bulged, and he drank coffee in a marked manner.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you talk nonsense, my girl," he said shortly.</p>

-

-<p>"A girl can speak, can't she? A girl can make a remark, can't she?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly she can speak," replied Mr. Flannery. "Undoubtedly she can

-make a remark. But," he added with quiet severity, "let it be sense.

-That young lady was the most beautiful young lady I've ever seen. She

-had eyes"—he paused for a telling simile—"eyes," he resumed devoutly,

-"like twin stars." He turned to Mrs. Evans, "When you've got that

-case's breakfast ready, ma'am, perhaps you would instruct someone to

-bring it out to me in the garden and I'll take it up to him. I shall be

-smoking my pipe in the shrubbery."</p>

-

-<p>"You're not going already, Mr. Flannery?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p>

-

-<p>"But you haven't finished your breakfast."</p>

-

-<p>"I have quite finished my breakfast, ma'am," said Sergeant-Major

-Flannery. "I would not wish to eat any more."</p>

-

-<p>He withdrew. To the pleading in the eyes of Rosa he pointedly paid

-no attention. He was not aware of the destructive effect which the

-moustache nestling between his thumb and forefinger had wrought on the

-girl's heart, but he considered rightly that if you didn't keep women

-in their place occasionally, where were you? Rosa was a nice little

-thing, but nice little things must not be allowed to speak lightly of

-goddesses.</p>

-

-<p>In the kitchen which he had left conversation had now resolved itself

-into a monologue by Mrs. Evans, on the Modern Girl. It need not be

-reported in detail, for Mrs. Evans on the Modern Girl was very like all

-the other members of the older generation who from time to time have

-given their views on the subject in the pulpit and the press. Briefly,

-Mrs. Evans did not know what girls were coming to nowadays. They spoke

-irreverently in the presence of their elders. They lacked respect. They

-thrust themselves forward. They annoyed good men to the extent of only

-half finishing their breakfasts. What Mrs. Evans's mother would have

-said if Mrs. Evans in her girlhood had behaved as Rosa had just behaved

-was a problem which Mrs. Evans frankly admitted herself unable to solve.</p>

-

-<p>And at the end of it all the only remark which Rosa vouchsafed was a

-repetition of the one which had caused Sergeant-Major Flannery to leave

-the table short one egg and a slice of bacon of his normal allowance.</p>

-

-<p>"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa, tossing a bobbed

-auburn head.</p>

-

-<p>Whether this deplorable attitude would have reduced Mrs. Evans to

-a despairing silence or caused her to repeat her observations with

-renewed energy will never be known, for at this moment one of the bells

-above the dresser jangled noisily.</p>

-

-<p>"That's Him," said Mrs. Evans. "Go and see what He wants." She usually

-referred to the proprietor of Healthward Ho by means of a pronoun with

-a capital letter, disapproving, though she recognized its aptness, of

-her assistant's preference for the soubriquet of Old Monkey Brand. "If

-it's His breakfast, tell Him it'll be ready in a minute."</p>

-

-<p>Rosa departed.</p>

-

-<p>"It's not His breakfast," she announced, returning. "It's the Case

-Upstairs's breakfast. Old Monkey Brand wants to have a look at it

-before it's took him."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't call Him Old Monkey Brand."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, it's what he looks like, isn't it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind," replied Mrs. Evans, and resumed her speculations as to

-what her mother would have said.</p>

-

-<p>"He's to have some bacon and eggs and toast and a potter coffee," said

-Rosa, showing rather a lack of interest in Mrs. Evans's mother. "And

-old Lord Twist wants to have a look at it before it's took him. It all

-depends what you call beautiful," said Rosa. "If you're going to call

-anyone beautiful that's got touched-up hair and eyes like one of those

-vamps in the pictures, well, all I can say is..."</p>

-

-<p>"That's enough," said Mrs. Evans.</p>

-

-<p>Silence reigned in the kitchen, broken only by the sizzling of bacon

-and the sniffs of a modern girl who did not see eye to eye with her

-elders on the subject of feminine beauty.</p>

-

-<p>"Here you are," said Mrs. Evans at length. "Get me one of them trays

-and the pepper and salt and mustard and be careful you don't drop it."</p>

-

-<p>"Drop it? Why should I drop it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, don't."</p>

-

-<p>"There was a woman in <i>Hearts and Satins</i> that had eyes just like

-hers," said Rosa, balancing the tray and speaking with the cold scorn

-which good women feel for their erring sisters. "And what she didn't

-do! Apart from stealing all them important papers relating to the

-invention...."</p>

-

-<p>"You're spilling that coffee."</p>

-

-<p>"No, I'm not."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, don't," said Mrs. Evans.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Out in the garden, hidden from the gaze of any who might espy him and

-set him to work, Sergeant-Major Flannery lolled in the shrubbery,

-savouring that best smoke of the day, the after-breakfast pipe. He was

-still ruffled, for Dolly had made a deep impression on him and any

-statement to the effect that she was not a thing of loveliness ranked

-to his thinking under the head of blasphemy.</p>

-

-<p>Of course, he mused, there was this to be said for the girl Rosa,

-this rather important point to be put forward in extenuation of her

-loose speech—she worshipped the ground he walked on and had obviously

-spoken as she did under the sudden smart of an uncontrollable

-jealousy. Contemplated in this light her remarks became almost

-excusable, and, growing benevolent under the influence of tobacco, Mr.

-Flannery began to feel his resentment changing gradually into something

-approaching tenderness.</p>

-

-<p>Rosa, when you came to look at it squarely, was, he reflected, rather

-to be pitied than censured. Young girls, of course, needed suppressing

-at times, and had to be ticked off for their own good when they got

-above themselves, but there was no doubt that the situation must have

-been trying to one in her frame of mind. To hear the man she worshipped

-speaking with unrestrained praise of the looks of another of her sex

-was enough to upset any girl. Properly looked at, in short, Rosa's

-outburst had been a compliment, and Sergeant-Major Flannery, now

-definitely mollified, decided to forgive her.</p>

-

-<p>At this moment he heard footsteps on the gravel path that skirted the

-shrubbery, and became alert and vigilant. He was not supposed to smoke

-in the grounds at Healthward Ho because of the maddening effect the

-spectacle could not fail to have upon the patients if they saw him. He

-knocked out his pipe and peered cautiously through the branches. Then

-he perceived that he need have had no alarm. It was only Rosa. She

-was standing with her back to him holding a laden tray. He remembered

-now that he had left instructions that the Case's breakfast should be

-brought out to him, preliminary to being carried up the ladder.</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Flanner-ee!" called Rosa, and scanned the horizon.</p>

-

-<p>It was not often that Sergeant-Major Flannery permitted himself any

-action that might be called arch or roguish, but his meditations in the

-shrubbery, added to the mellowing influence of tobacco, had left him in

-an unusually light-hearted mood. The sun was shining, the little birds

-were singing, and Mr. Flannery felt young and gay. Putting his pipe in

-his pocket, accordingly, he crept through the shrubbery until he was

-immediately behind the girl and then in a tender whisper uttered the

-single word:</p>

-

-<p>"Boo!"</p>

-

-<p>All great men have their limitations. We recognize the inevitability of

-this and do not hold it against them. One states, therefore, not in any

-spirit of reproach but simply as a fact of historical interest, that

-tender whispering was one of the things that Sergeant-Major Flannery

-did not do well. Between intention and performance there was, when Mr.

-Flannery set out to whisper tenderly, a great gulf fixed. The actual

-sound he now uttered was not unlike that which might proceed from the

-fog horn of an Atlantic liner or a toastmaster having a fit in a

-boiler shop, and, bursting forth as it did within a few inches of her

-ear without any warning whatsoever, it had on Rosa an effect identical

-with that produced on Colonel Wyvern at an earlier point in this

-chronicle by John Carroll's sudden bellow outside the shop of Chas.

-Bywater, Chemist. From trivial causes great events may spring. Rosa

-sprang about three feet. A sharp squeal escaped her and she dropped the

-tray. After which, she stood with a hand on her heart, panting.</p>

-

-<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery recognized at once that he had done the wrong

-thing. His generous spirit had led him astray. If he had wished to

-inform Rosa that all was forgotten and forgiven he should have stepped

-out of the shrubbery and said so in a few simple words, face to face.

-By acting, as it were, obliquely and allowing himself to be for the

-moment a disembodied voice, he had made a mess of things. Among the

-things he had made a mess of were a pot of coffee, a pitcher of milk,

-a bowl of sugar, a dish of butter, vessels containing salt, mustard,

-and pepper, a rack of toast, and a plateful of eggs and bacon. All

-these objects now littered the turf before him; and, emerging from the

-shrubbery, he surveyed them ruefully.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo-er!" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Oddly enough, relief rather than annoyance seemed to be the emotion

-dominating his companion. If ever there was an occasion when a girl

-might excusably have said some of the things girls are so good at

-saying nowadays, this was surely it. But Rosa merely panted at the

-Sergeant-Major thankfully.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought you was the Case Upstairs!" she gasped. "When I heard that

-ghastly sound right in my ear I thought it was him got out."</p>

-

-<p>"You're all right, my girl," said Mr. Flannery. "I'm 'ere."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Mr. Flannery!"</p>

-

-<p>"There, there!" said the Sergeant-Major.</p>

-

-<p>In spite of the feeling that he was behaving a little prematurely, he

-slipped a massive arm around the girl's waist. He also kissed her. He

-had not intended to commit himself quite so definitely as this, but it

-seemed now the only thing to do.</p>

-

-<p>Rosa became calmer.</p>

-

-<p>"I dropped the tray," she said.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Mr. Flannery, who was quick at noticing things.</p>

-

-<p>"I'd better go and tell him."</p>

-

-<p>"Tell Mr. Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I'd better, hadn't I?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery demurred. To tell Mr. Twist involved explanations, and

-explanations, if they were to be convincing, must necessarily reveal

-him, Mr. Flannery, in a light none too dignified. It might be that,

-having learned the facts, Mr. Twist would decide to dispense with

-the services of an assistant who, even from the best motives, hid in

-shrubberies and said "Boo!" to maidservants.</p>

-

-<p>"You listen to me, my girl," he advised. "Mr. Twist is a busy gentleman

-that has many responsibilities and much to occupy him. He don't want

-to be bothered with no stories of dropped trays. All you just do is

-run back to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Evans to cook the Case some more

-breakfast. The coffee pot's broke, but the cup ain't broke and the

-plate ain't broke and the mustardan-pepperan-salt thing ain't broke.

-I'll pick 'em up and you take 'em back on the tray and don't say

-nothing to nobody. While you're gone I'll be burying what's left of

-them eggs."</p>

-

-<p>"But Mr. Twist put something special in the coffee."</p>

-

-<p>"Eh? How do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"When I took him in the tray just now, he said, 'Is that the Case

-Upstairs' breakfast?' and I said Yes, it was, and Old Monkey Brand put

-something that looked like a aspirin tablet or something in the coffee

-pot. I thought it might be some medicine he had to have to make him

-quiet and keep him from breaking out and murdering all of us."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery smiled indulgently.</p>

-

-<p>"That Case Upstairs don't need nothing of that sort, not when I'm

-around," he said. "Doctor Twist's like all these civilians. He gets

-unduly nervous. He don't understand that there's no need or necessity

-or occasion whatsoever for these what I may call sedatives when I'm on

-the premises to lend a 'and in case of any verlence. Besides, it don't

-do anybody no good always to be taking these drugs and what not. The

-Case 'ad 'is sleeping draught yesterday, and you never know it might

-not undermine his 'ealth to go taking another this morning. So if Mr.

-Twist asks you has the Case had his coffee, you just say 'Yes, sir,' in

-a smart and respectful manner, and I'll do the same. And then nobody

-needn't be any the wiser."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery's opportunity of doing the same occurred not more than

-a quarter of an hour later. Returning from the task of climbing the

-ladder and handing in the revised breakfast at John's window, he

-encountered his employer in the hall.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Flannery," said Mr. Twist.</p>

-

-<p>"Sir?"</p>

-

-<p>"The—er—the violent case. Has he had breakfast?"</p>

-

-<p>"He was eatin' it quite 'earty when I left him not five minutes ago,

-sir."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp paused.</p>

-

-<p>"Did he drink his coffee?" he asked carelessly.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," replied Sergeant-Major Flannery in a smart and respectful

-manner.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh! I see. Thank you."</p>

-

-<p>"Thank <i>you</i>, sir," said Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>In describing John as eating his breakfast quite 'earty, Sergeant-Major

-Flannery, though not as a rule an artist in words, had for once

-undoubtedly achieved the <i>mot juste</i>. Hearty was the exact adjective to

-describe that ill-used young man's methods of approach to the eggs and

-bacon and coffee which his gaoler had handed in between the bars of the

-window. Neither his now rooted dislike of Mr. Flannery nor any sense of

-the indignity of accepting food like some rare specimen in a zoo could

-compete in John with an appetite which had been growing silently within

-him through the night watches. His headache had gone, leaving in its

-place a hunger which wolves might have envied. Placing himself outside

-an egg almost before the Sergeant-Major had time to say "Oo-er!" he

-finished the other egg, the bacon, the toast, the butter, the milk, and

-the coffee, and, having lifted the plate to see if any crumbs had got

-concealed beneath it and finding none, was compelled reluctantly to

-regard the meal as concluded.</p>

-

-<p>He now felt considerably better. Food and drink had stayed in him that

-animal ravenousness which makes food and drink the only possible object

-of a man's thoughts; and he was able to turn his mind to other matters.

-Having found and swallowed a lump of sugar which had got itself

-overlooked under a fold of the napkin, he returned to the bed and

-lay down. A man who wishes to think can generally do so better in a

-horizontal position. So John lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling,

-pondering.</p>

-

-<p>He certainly had sufficient material for thought to keep him occupied

-almost indefinitely. The more he meditated upon his present situation

-the less was he able to understand it. That the villain Twist, wishing

-to get away with the spoils of Rudge Hall, should have imprisoned

-him in this room in order to gain time for flight would have been

-intelligible. John would never have been able to bring himself to

-approve of such an action, but he had to admit its merits as a piece of

-strategy.</p>

-

-<p>But Twist had not flown. According to Sergeant-Major Flannery, he was

-still on the premises, and so, apparently, was his accomplice, the

-black-hearted Molloy. But why? What did they think they were doing? How

-long did they suppose they would be able to keep a respectable citizen

-cooped up like this, even though his only medium of communication with

-the outer world were a more than usually fat-headed sergeant-major? The

-thing baffled John completely.</p>

-

-<p>He next turned his mind to thoughts of Pat, and experienced a feverish

-concern. Here was something to get worried about. What, he asked

-himself, must Pat be thinking? He had promised to call for her in the

-Widgeon Seven at one o'clock yesterday. She would assume that he had

-forgotten. She would suppose....</p>

-

-<p>He would have gone on torturing himself with these reflections for

-a considerable time, but at this moment he suddenly heard a sharp,

-clicking sound. It resembled the noise a key makes when turning in

-a lock, and was probably the only sound on earth which at that

-particular point in his meditations would have had the power to arrest

-his attention.</p>

-

-<p>He lifted his head and looked around. Yes, the door was opening. And it

-was opening, what was more, in just the nasty, slow, furtive, sneaking

-way in which a door would open if somebody like the leper Twist had

-got hold of the handle.</p>

-

-<p>In this matter of the hell-hound Twist's mental processes John was

-now thoroughly fogged. The man appeared to be something very closely

-resembling an imbecile. When flight was the one thing that could do

-him a bit of good, he did not fly, and now, having with drugs and

-imprisonment and the small talk of sergeant-majors reduced a muscular

-young man to a condition of homicidal enthusiasm, he was apparently

-paying that young man a social call.</p>

-

-<p>However, the mental condition of this monkey-faced, waxed-moustached

-bounder and criminal was beside the point. What was important was to

-turn his weak-mindedness to profit. The moment was obviously one for

-cunning and craftiness, and John accordingly dropped his head on the

-pillow, cunningly closed his eyes, and craftily began to breathe like

-one deep in sleep.</p>

-

-<p>The ruse proved effective. After a moment of complete silence, a board

-creaked. Then another board creaked. And then he heard the door close

-gently. Finally, from the neighbourhood of the door, there came to him

-a sound of whispering. And across the years there floated into John's

-mind a dim memory. This whispering ... it reminded him of something.</p>

-

-<p>Then he got it. Ages ago ... when he was a child ... Christmas

-Eve ... His father and mother lurking in the doorway to make sure that

-he was asleep before creeping to the bed and putting the presents in

-his stocking.</p>

-

-<p>The recollection encouraged John. There is nothing like having done a

-thing before and knowing the technique. He never had been asleep on

-those bygone Christmas Eves, but the gift-bearers had never suspected

-it, and he resolved that, if any of the old skill and artistry still

-lingered with him, the Messrs. Twist and Molloy should not suspect it

-now. He deepened the note of his breathing, introducing into it a motif

-almost asthmatic.</p>

-

-<p>"It's all right," said the voice of Mr. Twist.</p>

-

-<p>"Okay?" said the voice of Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Okay," said the voice of Mr. Twist.</p>

-

-<p>Whereupon, walking confidently and without any further effort at

-stealth, the two approached the bed.</p>

-

-<p>"I guess he drank the whole potful," said Mr. Twist.</p>

-

-<p>Once more John found himself puzzling over the way this man's mind

-worked. By pot he presumably meant the coffee pot standing on the tray

-and why the contents of this should appear to him in the light of a

-soporific was more than John could understand.</p>

-

-<p>"Say, listen," said Mr. Twist. "You go and hang around outside the

-door, Soapy."</p>

-

-<p>"Why?" inquired Mr. Molloy, and it seemed to John that he spoke coldly.</p>

-

-<p>"So's to see nobody comes along, of course."</p>

-

-<p>"Yeah?" said Mr. Molloy, and his voice was now unmistakably dry. "And

-you'll come out in a minute and tell me you're all broke up about it

-but he hadn't got the ticket on him after all."</p>

-

-<p>"You don't think...?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I do think."</p>

-

-<p>"If you can't trust me that far...."</p>

-

-<p>"Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, "I wouldn't trust you as far as a snail

-could make in three jumps. I wouldn't believe you not even if I knew

-you were speaking the truth."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, well if that's how you feel..." said Mr. Twist, injured. Mr.

-Molloy, still speaking in that unfriendly voice, replied that that was

-precisely how he did feel. And there was silence for a space.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, very well," said Mr. Twist at length.</p>

-

-<p>John's perplexity increased. He could make nothing of that "ticket."

-The only ticket he had in his possession was the one Bolt, the

-chauffeur, had given him to give to his uncle for some bag or other

-which he had left in the cloak room at Shrub Hill Station. Why should

-these men...!</p>

-

-<p>He became aware of fingers groping toward the inner pocket of his coat.

-And as they touched him he decided that the moment had come to act.

-Bracing the muscles of his back he sprang from the bed, and with an

-acrobatic leap hurled himself toward the door and stood leaning against

-it.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">IV</p>

-

-<p>In the pause which followed this brisk move it soon became evident to

-John, rubbing his shoulders against the oak panels and glowering upon

-the two treasure seekers, that if the scene was to be brightened by

-anything in the nature of a dialogue the ball of conversation would

-have to be set rolling by himself. Not for some little time, it was

-clear, would his companions be in a condition for speech. Chimp Twist

-was looking like a monkey that has bitten into a bad nut, and Soapy

-Molloy, like an American Senator who has received an anonymous telegram

-saying "All is discovered. Fly at once." This sudden activity on the

-part of one whom they had regarded as under the influence of some of

-the best knock-out drops that ever came out of Chicago had had upon

-them an effect similar to that which would be experienced by a group of

-surgeons in an operating theatre if the gentleman on the slab were to

-rise abruptly and begin to dance the Charleston.</p>

-

-<p>So it was John who was the first to speak.</p>

-

-<p>"Now, then!" said John. "How about it?"</p>

-

-<p>The question was a purely rhetorical one, and received no reply. Mr.

-Molloy uttered an odd, strangled sound like a far-away cat with a

-fishbone in its throat, and Chimp's waxed moustache seemed to droop

-at the ends. It occurred to both of them that they had never realized

-before what a remarkably muscular, well-developed young man John was.

-It was also borne in upon them that there are exceptions to the rule

-which states that big men are always good-humoured. John, they could

-not help noticing, looked like a murderer who had been doing physical

-jerks for years.</p>

-

-<p>"I've a good mind to break both your necks," said John.</p>

-

-<p>At these unpleasant words, Mr. Molloy came to life sufficiently to be

-able to draw back a step, thus leaving his partner nearer than himself

-to the danger zone. It was a move strictly in accordance with business

-ethics. For if, Mr. Molloy was arguing, Chimp claimed seventy per cent.

-of the profits of their little venture, it was only fair that he should

-assume an equivalent proportion of its liabilities. At the moment, the

-thing looked like turning out all liabilities, and these Mr. Molloy was

-only too glad to split on a seventy-thirty basis. So he moved behind

-Chimp, and round the bulwark of his body, which he could have wished

-had been more substantial, peered anxiously at John.</p>

-

-<p>John, having sketched out his ideal policy, was now forced to descend

-to the practical. Agreeable as it would have been to take these two men

-and bump their heads together, he realized that such a course would be

-a deviation from the main issue. The important thing was to ascertain

-what they had done with the loot, and to this inquiry he now directed

-his remarks.</p>

-

-<p>"Where's that stuff?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"Stuff?" said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"You know what I mean. Those things you stole from the Hall."</p>

-

-<p>Chimp, who had just discovered that he was standing between Mr. Molloy

-and John, swiftly skipped back a pace. This caused Mr. Molloy to skip

-back, too. John regarded this liveliness with a smouldering disfavour.</p>

-

-<p>"Stand still!" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Chimp stood still. Mr. Molloy, who had succeeded in getting behind him

-again, stood stiller.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" said John. "Where are the things?"</p>

-

-<p>Even after the most complete rout on a stricken battle field a beaten

-general probably hesitates for an instant before surrendering his

-sword. And so now, obvious though it was that there was no other course

-before them but confession, Chimp and Soapy remained silent for a

-space. Then Chimp, who was the first to catch John's eye, spoke hastily.</p>

-

-<p>"They're in Worcester."</p>

-

-<p>"Whereabouts in Worcester?"</p>

-

-<p>"At the depôt."</p>

-

-<p>"What depôt?"</p>

-

-<p>"There's only one, isn't there?"</p>

-

-<p>"Do you mean the station?"</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. The station."</p>

-

-<p>"They're in the Left Luggage place at the station in Worcester," said

-Mr. Molloy. He spoke almost cheerfully, for it had suddenly come to

-him that matters were not so bad as he had supposed them to be, and

-that there was still an avenue unclosed which might lead to a peaceful

-settlement. "And you've got the ticket in your pocket."</p>

-

-<p>John stared.</p>

-

-<p>"That ticket is for a bag my uncle sent the chauffeur to leave at Shrub

-Hill."</p>

-

-<p>"Sure. And the stuff's inside it."</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you what I mean," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Atta-boy!" said Chimp faintly. He, too, had now become aware of the

-silver lining. He sank upon the bed, and so profound was his relief

-that the ends of his moustache seemed to spring to life again and cease

-their drooping.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "I'll tell you what I mean. It's about

-time you got hep to the fact that that old uncle of yours is one of

-the smoothest birds this side of God's surging Atlantic Ocean. He

-was sitting in with us all along, that's what he was doing. He said

-those heirlooms had never done him any good and it was about time they

-brought him some money. It was all fixed that Chimpie here should swipe

-them and then I was to give the old man a cheque and he was to clean up

-on the insurance, besides. That was when he thought I was a millionaire

-that ran a museum over in America and was in the market for antiques.

-But he got on to me, and then he started in to double-cross us. He took

-the stuff out of where we'd put it and slipped it over to the depôt at

-Worcester, meaning to collect it when he got good and ready. But the

-chauffeur gave the ticket to you, and you came over here, and Chimpie

-doped you and locked you up."</p>

-

-<p>"And you can't do a thing," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"No, sir," agreed Mr. Molloy, "not a thing, not unless you want to

-bring that uncle of yours into it and have him cracking rocks in the

-same prison where they put us."</p>

-

-<p>"I'd like to see that old bird cracking rocks, at that," said Chimp

-pensively.</p>

-

-<p>"So would I like to see him cracking rocks," assented Mr. Molloy

-cordially. "I can't think of anything I'd like better than to see him

-cracking rocks. But not at the expense of me cracking rocks, too."</p>

-

-<p>"Or me," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Or you," said Mr. Molloy, after a slight pause. "So there's the

-position, Mr. Carroll. You can go ahead and have us pinched, if you

-like, but just bear in mind that if you do there's going to be one of

-those scandals in high life you read about. Yes, sir, real front-page

-stuff."</p>

-

-<p>"You bet there is," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir, you bet there is," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"You're dern tooting there is," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, sir, you're dern tooting there is," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>And on this note of perfect harmony the partners rested their case and

-paused, looking at John expectantly.</p>

-

-<p>John's reaction to the disclosure was not agreeable. It is never

-pleasant for a spirited young man to find himself baffled, nor is it

-cheering for a member of an ancient family to discover that the head of

-that family has been working in association with criminals and behaving

-in a manner calculated to lead to rock-cracking.</p>

-

-<p>Not for an instant did it occur to him to doubt the story. Although the

-Messrs. Twist and Molloy were men whose statements the prudent would

-be inclined to accept as a rule with reserve, on this occasion it was

-evident that they were speaking nothing but the truth.</p>

-

-<p>"Say, listen," cried Chimp, alarmed. He had been watching John's face

-and did not like the look of it. "No rough stuff!"</p>

-

-<p>John had been contemplating none. Chimp and his companion had ceased

-to matter, and the fury which was making his face rather an unpleasant

-spectacle for two peace-loving men shut up in a small room with him

-was directed exclusively against his uncle Lester. Rudge Hall and its

-treasures were sacred to John; and the thought that Mr. Carmody, whose

-trust they were, had framed this scheme for the house's despoilment was

-almost more than he could bear.</p>

-

-<p>"It isn't us you ought to be sore at," urged Mr. Molloy. "It's that old

-uncle of yours."</p>

-

-<p>"Sure it is," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Sure it is," echoed Mr. Molloy. Not for a long time had he and his old

-friend found themselves so completely in agreement. "He's the guy you

-want to soak it to."</p>

-

-<p>"I'll say he is," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"I'll say he is," said Mr. Molloy. "Say listen, let me tell you

-something. Something that'll make you feel good. I happen to know that

-old man Carmody is throwing the wool over those insurance people's eyes

-by offering a reward for the recovery of that stuff. A thousand pounds.

-He told me so himself. If you want to get him good and sore, all you've

-got to do is claim it. He won't dare hold out on you."</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly he won't," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly he won't," said Mr. Molloy. "And will that make him good and

-sore!"</p>

-

-<p>"Will it!" said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Will it!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Wake me up in the night and ask me," said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>"Me, too," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>Their generous enthusiasm seemed to have had its effect. The ferocity

-faded from John's demeanour. Something resembling a smile flitted

-across his face, as if some pleasing thought was entertaining him. Mr.

-Molloy relaxed his tension and breathed again. Chimp, in his relief,

-found himself raising a hand to his moustache.</p>

-

-<p>"I see," said John slowly.</p>

-

-<p>He passed his fingers thoughtfully over his unshaven chin.</p>

-

-<p>"Is there a car in your garage?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"Sure there's a car in my garage," said Chimp. "Your car."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly."</p>

-

-<p>"But that girl went off in it."</p>

-

-<p>"She sent it back."</p>

-

-<p>So overwhelming was the joy of these tidings that John found himself

-regarding Chimp almost with liking. His car was safe after all. His

-Arab Steed! His Widgeon Seven!</p>

-

-<p>Any further conversation after this stupendous announcement would,

-he felt, be an anti-climax. Without a word he darted to the door and

-passed through, leaving the two partners staring after him blankly.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, what do you know about that?" said Chimp.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy's comment on the situation remained unspoken, for even as

-his lips parted for the utterance of what would no doubt have been a

-telling and significant speech, there came from the corridor outside a

-single, thunderous "Oo-er!" followed immediately by a sharp, smacking

-sound, and then a noise that resembled the delivery of a ton of coals.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Molloy stared at Chimp. Chimp stared at Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"Gosh!" said Chimp, awed.</p>

-

-<p>"Gosh!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-<p>"That was Flannery!" said Chimp, unnecessarily.</p>

-

-<p>"'Was,'" said Mr. Molloy, "is right."</p>

-

-<p>It was not immediately that either found himself disposed to leave

-the room and institute inquiries—or more probably, judging from that

-titanic crash, a post-mortem. When eventually they brought themselves

-to the deed and crept palely to the head of the stairs they were

-enabled to see, resting on the floor below, something which from

-its groans appeared at any rate for the moment to be alive. Then

-this object unscrambled itself and, rising, revealed the features of

-Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery seemed upset about something.</p>

-

-<p>"Was it you, sir?" he inquired in tones of deep reproach. "Was it you,

-Mr. Twist, that unlocked that Case's door?"</p>

-

-<p>"I wanted to have a talk with him," said Chimp, descending the stairs

-and gazing remorsefully at his assistant.</p>

-

-<p>"I have the honour to inform you," said Mr. Flannery formally, "that

-the Case has legged it."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you hurt?"</p>

-

-<p>"In reply to your question, sir," said Mr. Flannery in the same formal

-voice, "I <i>am</i> hurt."</p>

-

-<p>It would have been plain to the most casual observer that the man was

-speaking no more than the truth. How in the short time at his disposal

-John had managed to do it was a mystery which baffled both Chimp and

-his partner. An egg-shaped bump stood out on the Sergeant-Major's

-forehead like a rocky promontory, and already he was exhibiting one of

-the world's most impressive black eyes. The thought that there, but

-for the grace of God, went Alexander Twist filled the proprietor of

-Healthward Ho with so deep a feeling of thankfulness that he had to

-clutch at the banister to support himself.</p>

-

-<p>A similar emotion was plainly animating Mr. Molloy. To have been

-shut up in a room with a man capable of execution like that—a man,

-moreover, nurturing a solid and justifiable grudge against him, and to

-have escaped uninjured was something that seemed to him to call for

-celebration. He edged off in the direction of the study. He wanted a

-drink, and he wanted it quick.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Flannery, pressing a hand to his wounded eye, continued with the

-other to hold Chimp rooted to the spot. It was an eye that had much of

-the quality of the Ancient Mariner's, and Chimp did not attempt to move.</p>

-

-<p>"If you had listened to my advice, sir," said Mr. Flannery coldly,

-"this would never have happened. Did I or did I not say to you, Mr.

-Twist, did I or did I not repeatedly say that it was imperative and

-essential that that Case be kept securely under lock and key? And then

-you go asking for it, sir, begging for it, pleading for it, by opening

-the door and giving him the opportunity to roam the 'ouse at his sweet

-will and leg it when so disposed. I 'ad just reached the 'ead of the

-stairs when I see him. I said Oo-er! I said, and advanced smartly at

-the double to do my duty, that being what I am paid for, an' what I

-draw my salary for doing, and the next thing I know I'd copped it

-square in the eye and him and me was rolling down the stairs together.

-I bumped my 'ead against the woodwork at the bottom or it may have

-been that chest there, and for a moment all went black and I knew no

-more." Mr. Flannery paused. "All went black and I knew no more," he

-repeated, liking the phrase. "And when I came to, as the expression is,

-the Case had gone. Where he is now, Mr. Twist, 'oo can say? Murdering

-the patients as like as not or...."</p>

-

-<p>He broke off. Outside on the drive, diminishing in the distance,

-sounded the engine of a car.</p>

-

-<p>"That's him," said Mr. Flannery. "He's gorn!" He brooded for a moment.</p>

-

-<p>"Gorn!" he resumed. "Gorn to range the countryside and maybe 'ave 'alf

-a dozen assassinations on his conscience before the day's out. And

-you'll be responsible, Mr. Twist. On that Last Awful Day, Mr. Twist,

-when you and I and all of us come up before the Judgment Seat, do

-you know what'll 'appen? I'll tell you what'll 'appen. The Lord God

-Almighty will say, angry-like, ''Oo's responsible for all these corpses

-I see laying around 'ere?' and 'E'll look at you sort of sharp, and

-you'll have to rise up and say, 'It was me! I'm responsible for them

-corpses.' If I'd of done as Sergeant-Major Flannery repeatedly told me

-and kep' that Case under lock and key, as the saying is, there wouldn't

-have been none of these poor murdered blokes.' That's what you'll 'ave

-to rise and say, Mr. Twist. I will now leave you, sir, as I wish to go

-into the kitchen and get that young Rosa to put something on this nasty

-bruise and eye of mine. If you 'ave any further instructions for me,

-Mr. Twist, I'll be glad to attend to them. If not, I'll go up to my

-room and have a bit of a lay-down. Good morning, sir."</p>

-

-<p>The Sergeant-Major had said his say. He withdrew in good order along

-previously prepared lines of retreat. And Chimp, suddenly seized with

-the same idea which had taken Soapy to the study, moved slowly off down

-the passage.</p>

-

-<p>In the study he found Mr. Molloy, somewhat refreshed, seated at the

-telephone.</p>

-

-<p>"What are you doing?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"Playing the flute," replied Mr. Molloy shortly.</p>

-

-<p>"Who are you 'phoning to?"</p>

-

-<p>"Dolly, if you want to know. I've got to tell her about all this

-business going bloo-ey, haven't I? I've got to break it to her that

-after all her trouble and pains she isn't going to get a cent out of

-the thing, haven't I?"</p>

-

-<p>Chimp regarded his partner with disfavour. He wished he had never seen

-Mr. Molloy. He wished he might never see him again. He wished he were

-not seeing him now.</p>

-

-<p>"Why don't you go up to London and tell her?" he demanded sourly.

-"There's a train in twenty minutes."</p>

-

-<p>"I'd rather do it on the 'phone," said Mr. Molloy.</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>The sun, whose rays had roused Sergeant-Major Flannery from his

-slumbers at Healthward Ho that morning, had not found it necessary to

-perform the same office for Lester Carmody at Rudge Hall. In spite of

-the fact that he had not succeeded in getting to sleep till well on in

-the small hours, Mr. Carmody woke early. There is no alarm clock so

-effective as a disturbed mind.</p>

-

-<p>And Mr. Carmody's mind was notably disturbed. On the previous night he

-had received shock after shock, each more staggering than the last.

-First, Bolt, the chauffeur, had revealed the fact that he had given the

-fateful ticket to John. Then Sturgis, after letting fall in the course

-of his babblings the information that Mr. Molloy knew that John had the

-ticket, had said that that young man, when last seen, had been going

-off in the company of Dolly Molloy. And finally, John had not only

-failed to appear at dinner but was not to be discovered anywhere on the

-premises at as late an hour as midnight.</p>

-

-<p>In these circumstances, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Mr.

-Carmody's repose was not tranquil. To one who, like himself, had had

-the advantage of hearing the views of the Molloy family on the virtues

-of knock-out drops there could be no doubt as to what had happened.

-John, suspecting nothing, must have allowed himself to be lured into

-the trap, and by this time the heirlooms of Rudge Hall were probably in

-London.</p>

-

-<p>Having breakfasted, contrary to the habit of years, quickly and

-sketchily, Mr. Carmody, who had haunted the stable yard till midnight,

-went there again in the faint hope of finding that his nephew had

-returned. But except for Emily, who barked at him, John's room was

-empty. Mr. Carmody wandered out into the grounds, and for some half

-hour paced the gravel paths in growing desolation of soul. Then, his

-tortured nerves becoming more and more afflicted by the behaviour of

-one of the under-gardeners who, full of the feudal spirit, insisted on

-touching his hat like a clockwork toy every time his employer passed,

-he sought refuge in his study.</p>

-

-<p>It was there, about one hour later, that John found him.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody's first emotion on beholding his long-lost nephew was one

-of ecstatic relief.</p>

-

-<p>"John!" he cried, bounding from his chair.</p>

-

-<p>Then, chilling his enthusiasm, came the thought that there might be no

-occasion for joy in this return. Probably, he reflected, John, after

-being drugged and robbed of the ticket, had simply come home in the

-ordinary course of events. After all, there would have been no reason

-for those scoundrels to detain him. Once they had got the ticket, John

-would have ceased to count.</p>

-

-<p>"Where have you been?" he asked in a flatter voice.</p>

-

-<p>A rather peculiar smile came and went on John's face.</p>

-

-<p>"I spent the night at Healthward Ho," he said. "Were you worried about

-me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Extremely worried."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm sorry. Doctor Twist is a hospitable chap. He wouldn't let me go."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody, on the point of speaking, checked himself. His position,

-he suddenly saw, was a delicate one. Unless he were prepared to lay

-claim to the possession of special knowledge, which he certainly was

-not, anything in the nature of agitation on his part must inevitably

-seem peculiar. To those without special knowledge Mr. Twist, Mr.

-Molloy, and Dolly were ordinary, respectable persons and there was no

-reason for him to exhibit concern at the news that John had spent the

-night at Healthward Ho.</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed?" he said carefully.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said John. "Most hospitable he was. I can't say I liked him,

-though."</p>

-

-<p>"No?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. Perhaps what prejudiced me against him was the fact of his having

-burgled the Hall the night before last."</p>

-

-<p>More and more Mr. Carmody was feeling, as Ronnie Fish had no doubt

-felt at the concert, that he had been forced into playing a part to

-which he was not equal. It was obviously in the rôle that at this point

-he should register astonishment, and he did his best to do so. But

-the gasp he gave sounded so unconvincing to him that he hastened to

-supplement his words.</p>

-

-<p>"What! What are you saying? Doctor Twist?"</p>

-

-<p>"Doctor Twist."</p>

-

-<p>"But.... But...!"</p>

-

-<p>"It's come as quite a surprise to you, hasn't it?" said John. And for

-the first time since this interview had begun Mr. Carmody became alive

-to the fact that in his nephew's manner there was a subtle something

-which he did not like, something decidedly odd. This might, of course,

-simply be due to the circumstance that the young man's chin was

-bristling with an unsightly growth and his eyes red about the rims.

-Perhaps it was merely his outward appearance that gave the suggestion

-of the sinister. But Mr. Carmody did not think so. He noted now that

-John's eyes, besides being red, were strangely keen. Their expression

-seemed, to his sensitive conscience, accusing. The young man was

-looking at him—yes, undoubtedly the young man was looking at him most

-unpleasantly.</p>

-

-<p>"By the way," said John, "Bolt gave me this ticket yesterday to give to

-you. I forgot about it till it was too late."</p>

-

-<p>The relatively unimportant question of whether or not there was a

-peculiar look in his nephew's eyes immediately ceased to vex Mr.

-Carmody. All he felt at this instant was an almost suffocating elation.

-He stretched out an unsteady hand.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes," he heard himself saying. "That ticket. Quite so, of course.

-Bolt left a bag for me at Shrub Hill Station."</p>

-

-<p>"He did."</p>

-

-<p>"Give me the ticket."</p>

-

-<p>"Later," said John, and put it back in his pocket.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody's elation died away. There was no question now about

-the peculiar look in his companion's eye. It was a grim look. A

-hard, accusing look. Not at all the sort of look a man with a tender

-conscience likes to have boring into him.</p>

-

-<p>"What—what do you mean?"</p>

-

-<p>John continued to regard him with that unpleasantly fixed stare.</p>

-

-<p>"I hear you have offered a reward of a thousand pounds for the recovery

-of those things that were stolen, Uncle Lester."</p>

-

-<p>"Er—yes. Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"I'll claim it."</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"Uncle Lester," said John, and his voice made a perfect match for his

-eye, "before I left Healthward Ho I had a little talk with Mr. Twist

-and his friend Mr. Molloy. They told me a lot of interesting things. Do

-you get my meaning, or shall I make it plainer?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody, who had bristled for a moment with the fury of a

-parsimonious man who sees danger threatening his cheque book, sank

-slowly back into his chair like a balloon coming to rest.</p>

-

-<p>"Good!" said John. "Write out a cheque and make it payable to Colonel

-Wyvern."</p>

-

-<p>"Colonel Wyvern?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am passing the reward on to him. I have a particular reason for

-wanting to end all that silly trouble between you two, and I think this

-should do it. I know he is simply waiting for you to make some sort of

-advance. So you're going to make an advance—of a thousand pounds."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody gulped.</p>

-

-<p>"Wouldn't five hundred be enough?"</p>

-

-<p>"A thousand."</p>

-

-<p>"It's such a lot of money."</p>

-

-<p>"A nice round sum," said John.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody did not share his nephew's views as to what constituted

-niceness and roundness in a sum of money, but he did not say so. He

-sighed deeply and drew his cheque book from its drawer. He supposed in

-a vague sort of way that he ought to be feeling grateful to the young

-man for not heaping him with reproaches and recrimination, but the

-agony of what he was about to do prevented any such emotion. All he

-could feel was that dull, aching sensation which comes to most of us

-when we sit down to write cheques for the benefit of others.</p>

-

-<p>It was as if some malignant fate had brooded over him, he felt, ever

-since this business had started. From the very first, life had been

-one long series of disbursements. All the expense of entertaining the

-Molloy family, not to mention the unspeakable Ronnie Fish.... The car

-going to and fro between Healthward Ho and Rudge at six shillings per

-trip.... The five hundred pounds he had had to pay to get Hugo out of

-the house.... And now this appalling, devastating sum for which he had

-just begun to write his cheque. Money going out all the time! Money ...

-money ... money ... And all for nothing!</p>

-

-<p>He blotted the cheque and held it out.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't give it to me," said John. "You're coming with me now to Colonel

-Wyvern's house, to hand it to him in person with a neat little speech."</p>

-

-<p>"I shan't know what to say."</p>

-

-<p>"I'll tell you."</p>

-

-<p>"Very well."</p>

-

-<p>"And after that," said John, "you and he are going to be like two

-love-birds." He thumped the desk. "Do you understand? Love-birds."</p>

-

-<p>"Very well."</p>

-

-<p>There was something in the unhappy man's tone as he spoke, something so

-crushed and forlorn that John could not but melt a little. He paused at

-the door. It crossed his mind that he might possibly be able to cheer

-him up.</p>

-

-<p>"Uncle Lester," he said, "how did you get on with Sergeant-Major

-Flannery at Healthward Ho?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody winced. Unpleasant memories seemed to be troubling him.</p>

-

-<p>"Just before I left," said John, "I blacked his eye and we fell

-downstairs together."</p>

-

-<p>"Downstairs?"</p>

-

-<p>"Right down the entire flight. He thumped his head against an oak

-chest."</p>

-

-<p>On Mr. Carmody's drawn face there hovered for an instant a faint

-flickering smile.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought you'd be pleased," said John.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern hitched the celebrated eyebrows into a solid mass across

-the top of his nose, and from beneath them stared hideously at Jane,

-his parlour maid. Jane had just come into the morning room, where he

-was having a rather heated conversation with his daughter, Patricia,

-and had made the astounding statement that Mr. Lester Carmody was

-waiting in his front hall.</p>

-

-<p>"Who?" said Colonel Wyvern, rumbling like a thunder cloud.</p>

-

-<p>"Sir, please, sir, Mr. Carmody."</p>

-

-<p>"Mr. Carmody?"</p>

-

-<p>"And Mr. Carroll, sir."</p>

-

-<p>Pat, who had been standing by the French windows, caught in her breath

-with a little click of her firm white teeth.</p>

-

-<p>"Show them in, Jane," she said.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss."</p>

-

-<p>"I will not see that old thug," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>"Show them in, Jane," repeated Pat, firmly. "You must, Father," she

-said as the door closed. "He may have come to apologize about that

-dynamite thing."</p>

-

-<p>"Much more likely he's come about that business of yours. Well, I've

-told you already and I say it again that nothing will induce me..."</p>

-

-<p>"All right, Father. We can talk about that later. I'll be out in the

-garden if you want me."</p>

-

-<p>She went out through the French windows, and almost simultaneously the

-door opened and John and his uncle came in.</p>

-

-<p>John paused in the doorway, gazing eagerly toward the garden.</p>

-

-<p>"Was that Pat?" he asked.</p>

-

-<p>"I beg your pardon," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>"Was that Pat I thought I caught a glimpse of, going into the garden?"</p>

-

-<p>"My daughter has just gone into the garden," said Colonel Wyvern with

-cold formality.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?" said John. He seemed about to follow her but a sudden bark from

-the owner of the house brought him to a halt.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" said Colonel Wyvern, and the monosyllable was a verbal pistol

-shot. It brought John back instantly from dreamland, and, almost more

-than the spectacle of his host's eyebrows, told him that life was stern

-and life was earnest.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean, Oh yes?"</p>

-

-<p>John advanced to the table, meeting the Colonel's gaze with a steady

-eye. There is this to be said for being dosed with knock-out drops and

-shut up in locked rooms and having to take your meals through bars from

-the hands of a sergeant-major whom only a mother could love—it fits

-a normally rather shy and diffident young man for the battles of life

-as few other experiences would be able to fit him. The last time he

-and this bushy-eyebrowed man had met, John had quailed. But now mere

-eyebrows meant nothing to him. He felt hardened, like one who has been

-through the furnace.</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose you are surprised to see us here?"</p>

-

-<p>"More surprised than pleased."</p>

-

-<p>"My uncle was anxious to have a few words with you."</p>

-

-<p>"I have not the slightest desire...."</p>

-

-<p>"If you will just let me explain...."</p>

-

-<p>"I repeat, I have not the slightest desire...."</p>

-

-<p>"<span class="smcap">Sit Down!</span>" said John.</p>

-

-<p>Colonel Wyvern sat down, rather as if he had been hamstrung. The action

-had been purely automatic, the outcome of that involuntary spasm of

-acquiescence which comes upon everybody when someone speaks very

-loudly and peremptorily in their presence. His obsequiousness was only

-momentary, and he was about to inquire of John what the devil he meant

-by speaking to him like that, when the young man went on.</p>

-

-<p>"My uncle has been very much concerned," said John, "about that

-unfortunate thing that happened in the park some weeks ago. It has been

-on his mind."</p>

-

-<p>The desire to say something almost inhumanely sarcastic and the

-difficulty of finding just the right words caused the Colonel to miss

-his chance of interrupting at this point. What should have been a

-searing retort became a mere splutter.</p>

-

-<p>"He feels he behaved badly to you. He admits freely that in grabbing

-you round the waist and putting you in between him and that dynamite he

-acted on the spur of an impulse to which he should never have yielded.

-He has been wondering ever since how best he might heal the breach.

-Haven't you, Uncle Lester?"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody swallowed painfully.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"He says 'Yes'," said John, relaying the information to its receiving

-station. "You have always been his closest friend, and the thought that

-there was this estrangement has been preying on my uncle's mind. This

-morning, unable to endure it any longer, he came to me and asked my

-advice. I was very glad to give it him. And I am still more glad that

-he took it. My uncle will now say a few words.... Uncle Lester!"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody rose haltingly from his seat. He was a man who stood on the

-verge of parting with one thousand pounds in cool cash, and he looked

-it. His face was haggard, and his voice, when he contrived to speak,

-thin and trembling.</p>

-

-<p>"Wyvern, I...."</p>

-

-<p>"... thought ..." prompted John.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought," said Mr. Carmody, "that in the circumstances...."</p>

-

-<p>"It would be best...."</p>

-

-<p>"It would be best if...."</p>

-

-<p>Words—and there should have been sixty-three more of them—failed Mr.

-Carmody. He pushed a slip of paper across the table and resumed his

-seat, a suffering man.</p>

-

-<p>"I fail to...." began Colonel Wyvern. And then his eye fell on the slip

-of paper, and pomposity slipped from him like breath off a razor blade.

-"What—what——?" he said.</p>

-

-<p>"Moral and intellectual damages," said John. "My uncle feels he owes it

-to you."</p>

-

-<p>Silence fell upon the room. The Colonel had picked up the cheque and

-was scrutinizing it as if he had been a naturalist and it some rare

-specimen encountered in the course of his walks abroad. His eyebrows,

-disentangling themselves and moving apart, rose in an astonishment he

-made no attempt to conceal. He looked from the cheque to Mr. Carmody

-and back again.</p>

-

-<p>"Good God!" said Colonel Wyvern.</p>

-

-<p>With a sudden movement he tore the paper in two, burst into a crackling

-laugh and held his hand out.</p>

-

-<p>"Good God!" he cried jovially. "Do you think I want money? All I ever

-wanted was for you to admit you were an old scoundrel and murderer, and

-you've done it. And if you knew how lonely it's been in this infernal

-place with no one to speak to or smoke a cigar with...."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Carmody had risen, in his eyes the look of one who sees visions and

-beholds miracles. He gazed at his old friend in awe. Long as he had

-known him, it was only now that he realized his true nobility of soul.</p>

-

-<p>"Wyvern!"</p>

-

-<p>"Carmody," said Colonel Wyvern, "how are the pike?"</p>

-

-<p>"The pike?" Mr. Carmody blinked, still dazed. "Pike?"</p>

-

-<p>"In the moat. Have you caught the big one yet?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not yet."</p>

-

-<p>"I'll come up and try for him this afternoon, shall I?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"He says 'Yes'," said John, interpreting.</p>

-

-<p>"And only just now," said Colonel Wyvern, "I was savaging my daughter

-because she wanted to marry into your family!"</p>

-

-<p>"What's that?" cried Mr. Carmody, and John clutched the edge of the

-table. His heart had given a sudden, ecstatic leap, and for an instant

-the room had seemed to rock about him.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. He broke into another of his laughs, and

-John could not help wondering where Pat had got that heavenly tinkle of

-silver bells which served her on occasion when she was amused. Not from

-her father's side of the family.</p>

-

-<p>"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Carmody.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. "She came to me just before you arrived and

-told me that she wanted to marry your nephew Hugo."</p>

-

-

-<hr class="chap">

-

-

-<h3 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h3>

-<p class="ph2">I</p>

-

-<p>Some years before, in pursuance of his duties as a member of the

-English Rugby Football fifteen, it had become necessary for John one

-rainy afternoon in Dublin to fall on the ball at a moment when five or

-six muscular Irish forwards full of Celtic enthusiasm were endeavouring

-to kick it. Until this moment he had always ranked that as the most

-unpleasant and disintegrating experience of his life.</p>

-

-<p>His fingers tightened their clutch on the table. He found its support

-grateful. He blinked, once very quickly as if he had just received a

-blow in the face, and then a second time more slowly.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo?" he said.</p>

-

-<p>He felt numbed, just as he had felt numbed in Dublin when what had

-appeared to be a flock of centipedes with cleated boots had made him

-the object of their attentions. All the breath had gone out of him, and

-though what he was suffering was at the present more a dull shock than

-actual pain, he realized dimly that there would be pain coming shortly

-in full measure.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo?" he said.</p>

-

-<p>Faintly blurred by the drumming of the blood in his ears, there came to

-him the sound of his uncle's voice. Mr. Carmody was saying that he was

-delighted. And the utter impossibility of remaining in the same room

-with a man who could be delighted at the news that Pat was engaged to

-Hugo swept over John like a wave. Releasing his grip on the table, he

-laid a course for the French windows and, reaching them, tottered out

-into the garden.</p>

-

-<p>Pat was walking on the little lawn, and at the sight of her his

-numbness left John. He seemed to wake with a start, and, waking, found

-himself in the grip of a great many emotions which, after seething and

-bubbling for a while, crystallized suddenly into a white-hot fury.</p>

-

-<p>He was hurt all over and through and through, but he was so angry that

-only subconsciously was he aware of this. Pat was looking so cool

-and trim and alluring, so altogether as if it caused her no concern

-whatever that she had made a fool of a good man, raising his hopes only

-to let them fall and encouraging him to dream dreams only to shatter

-them, that he felt he hated her.</p>

-

-<p>She turned as he stepped onto the grass, and they looked at one another

-in silence for a moment. Then John, in a voice which was strangely

-unlike his own, said, "Good morning."</p>

-

-<p>"Good morning," said Pat, and there was silence again.</p>

-

-<p>She did not attempt to avoid his eye—the least, John felt, that she

-could have done in the circumstances. She was looking straight at him,

-and there was something of defiance in her gaze. Her chin was tilted.

-To her, judging from her manner, he was not the man whose hopes she had

-frivolously raised by kissing him that night on the Skirme, but merely

-an unwelcome intruder interrupting a pleasant reverie.</p>

-

-<p>"So you're back?" she said.</p>

-

-<p>John swallowed what appeared to be some sort of obstruction half-way

-down his chest. He was anxious to speak, but afraid that, if he spoke,

-he would stammer. And a man on an occasion like this does not wish to

-give away by stammering the fact that he is not perfectly happy and

-debonair and altogether without a care in the world.</p>

-

-<p>"I hear you're engaged to Hugo," he said, speaking carefully and

-spacing the syllables so that they did not run into each other as they

-showed an inclination to do.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"I congratulate you."</p>

-

-<p>"You ought to congratulate him, oughtn't you, and just say to me that

-you hope I'll be happy?"</p>

-

-<p>"I hope you will be happy," said John, accepting this maxim from the

-Book of Etiquette.</p>

-

-<p>"Thanks."</p>

-

-<p>"Very happy."</p>

-

-<p>"Thanks."</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause.</p>

-

-<p>"It's—a little sudden, isn't it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Is it?"</p>

-

-<p>"When did Hugo get back?"</p>

-

-<p>"This morning. His letter arrived by the first post, and he came in

-right on top of it."</p>

-

-<p>"His letter?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. He wrote asking me to marry him."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh?"</p>

-

-<p>Pat traced an arabesque on the grass with the toe of her shoe.</p>

-

-<p>"It was a beautiful letter."</p>

-

-<p>"Was it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Very. I didn't think Hugo was capable of it."</p>

-

-<p>John remained for a moment without speaking. He searched his mind for

-care-free, debonair remarks, and found it singularly short of them.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo's a splendid chap," he contrived to say at length.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes—so bright!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Nice-looking fellow."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"A thoroughly good chap."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>John found that he had exhausted the subject of Hugo's qualities.

-He relapsed into a gray silence and half thought of treading on an

-offensively cheerful worm which had just appeared beside his shoe and

-seemed to be asking for it.</p>

-

-<p>Pat stifled a little yawn.</p>

-

-<p>"Did you have a nice time yesterday?" she asked carelessly.</p>

-

-<p>"Not so very nice," said John. "I dare say you heard that we had a

-burglary up at the Hall? I went off to catch the criminals and they

-caught me!"</p>

-

-<p>"What!"</p>

-

-<p>"I was fool enough to let myself be drugged, and when I woke up I was

-locked in a room with bars on the windows. I only got out an hour or so

-ago."</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie!"</p>

-

-<p>"However, it all ended happily. I've got back the stuff that was

-stolen."</p>

-

-<p>"But, Johnnie! I thought you had gone off picnicking with that Molloy

-girl."</p>

-

-<p>"It may have been her idea of picnicking. She was one of the gang.

-Quite the leading spirit, I gather."</p>

-

-<p>He had lowered his eyes, wondering once more whether it would not be

-judicious to put it across that worm after all, when an odd choking

-sound caused him to look up. Pat's mouth had opened, and she was

-staring at him wide-eyed. And if she had ever looked more utterly

-beautiful and marvellous, John could not remember the occasion.

-Something seemed to clutch at his throat, and the garden, seen

-indistinctly through a mist, danced a few steps in a tentative sort of

-way, as if it were trying out something new that had just come over

-from America.</p>

-

-<p>And then, as the mist cleared, John found that he and Pat were not, as

-he had supposed, alone. Standing beside him was a rugged and slightly

-unkempt person clad in a bearskin which had obviously not been made to

-measure, in whom he recognized at once that Stone Age Ancestor of his

-who had given him a few words of advice the other night on the path

-leading to the boathouse.</p>

-

-<p>The Ancestor was looking at him reproachfully. In appearance he was

-rather like Sergeant-Major Flannery, and when he spoke it was with that

-well-remembered voice.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo-er," said the Ancestor, peevishly twiddling a flint-axe in his

-powerful fingers. "Now you see, young fellow, what's happened or

-occurred or come about, if I may use the expression, through your not

-doing what I told you. Did I or did I not repeatedly urge and advise

-you to be'ave towards this girl in the manner which 'as been tested

-and proved the correct one by me and all the rest of your ancestors in

-the days when men were men and knew how to go about these matters? Now

-you've lost her, whereas if you'd done as I said...."</p>

-

-<p>"Stay!" said a quiet, saintly voice, and John perceived that another

-form had ranged itself beside him.</p>

-

-<p>"Still, maybe it's not too late even now...."</p>

-

-<p>"No, no," said the newcomer, and John was now able to see that this was

-his Better Self, "I really must protest. Let us, please, be restrained

-and self-effacing. I deprecate these counsels of violence."</p>

-

-<p>"Tested and proved correct...." inserted the Ancestor. "I'm giving him

-good advice, that's what I'm doing. I'm pointing out to 'im, as you may

-say, the proper method."</p>

-

-<p>"I consider your advice subversive to a degree," said Better Self

-coldly, "and I disapprove of your methods. The obviously correct thing

-for this young man to do in the circumstances in which he finds himself

-is to accept the situation like a gentleman. This girl is engaged to

-another man, a good-looking, bright young man, the heir to a great

-estate and an excellent match...."</p>

-

-<p>"Mashed potatoes!" said the Stone Age Ancestor coarsely. "The 'ole

-thing 'ere, young fellow, is you just take this girl and grab her

-and 'old 'er in your arms, as the saying is, and never mind how many

-bright, good-looking young men she's engaged to. 'Strewth! When I was

-in me prime you wouldn't have found me 'esitating. You do as I say, me

-lad, and you won't regret it. Just you spring smartly to attention and

-grab 'er with both 'ands in a soldierly manner."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" said Pat, and her voice was a wail.

-Her eyes were bright with dismay, and her hands fluttered in a helpless

-manner which alone would have been enough to decide a man already

-swaying toward the methods of the good old days when cavemen were

-cavemen.</p>

-

-<p>John hesitated no longer. Hugo be blowed! His Better Self be blowed!

-Everything and everybody be blowed except this really excellent old

-gentleman who, though he might have been better tailored, was so

-obviously a mine of information on what a young man should know.

-Drawing a deep breath and springing smartly to attention, he held out

-his arms in a soldierly manner, and Pat came into them like a little

-boat sailing into harbour after a storm. A faint receding sigh told

-him that his Better Self had withdrawn discomfited, but the sigh was

-drowned by the triumphant approval of the Ancestor.</p>

-

-<p>"Oo-er," boomed the Ancestor thunderously.</p>

-

-<p>"So this is how it feels!" said John to himself.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Johnnie!" said Pat.</p>

-

-<p>The garden had learned that dance now. It was simple once you got the

-hang of it. All you had to do, if you were a tree, was to jump up and

-down, while, if you were a lawn, you just went round and round. So the

-trees jumped up and down and the lawn went round and round, and John

-stood still in the middle of it all, admiring it.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Johnnie," said Pat. "What on earth shall I do?"</p>

-

-<p>"Go on just like you are now."</p>

-

-<p>"But about Hugo, I mean."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo? Hugo? John concentrated his mind. Yes, he recalled now, there had

-been some little difficulty about Hugo. What was it? Ah, yes.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat," he said, "I love you. Do you love me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Then what on earth," demanded John, "did you go and do a silly thing

-like getting engaged to Hugo for?"</p>

-

-<p>He spoke a little severely, for in some mysterious fashion all the

-awe with which this girl had inspired him for so many years had left

-him. His inferiority complex had gone completely. And it was due, he

-gathered, purely and solely to the fact that he was holding her in his

-arms and kissing her. At any moment during the last half-dozen years

-this childishly simple remedy had been at his disposal and he had not

-availed himself of it. He was astonished at his remissness, and his

-feeling of gratitude, toward that Ancestor of his in the baggy bearskin

-who had pointed out the way, became warmer than ever.</p>

-

-<p>"But I thought you didn't care a bit for me," wailed Pat.</p>

-

-<p>John stared.</p>

-

-<p>"Who, me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Didn't care for you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"You thought I didn't care for you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you had promised to take me to Wenlock Edge and you never turned

-up and I found you had gone out in your car with that Molloy girl.

-Naturally I thought...."</p>

-

-<p>"You shouldn't have."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, I did. And so when Hugo's letter came it seemed such a wonderful

-chance of showing you that I didn't care. And now what am I to do? What

-can I say to Hugo?"</p>

-

-<p>It was a nuisance for John to have to detach his mind from what really

-mattered in life to trivialities like this absurd business of Hugo, but

-he supposed the thing, if only to ease Pat's mind, would have to be

-given a little attention.</p>

-

-<p>"Hugo thinks he's engaged to you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, he isn't."</p>

-

-<p>"No."</p>

-

-<p>"Then that," said John, seeing the thing absolutely clearly, "is all

-we've got to tell him."</p>

-

-<p>"You talk as if it were so simple!"</p>

-

-<p>"So it is. What's hard about it?"</p>

-

-<p>"I wish you had it to do instead of me!"</p>

-

-<p>"But of course I'll do it," said John. It astonished him that she

-should have contemplated any other course. Naturally, when the great

-strong man becomes engaged to the timid, fluttering little girl he

-takes over all her worries and handles in his efficient, masculine way

-any problem that may be vexing her.</p>

-

-<p>"Would you really, Johnnie?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't feel I can look him in the face."</p>

-

-<p>"You won't miss much. Where is he?"</p>

-

-<p>"He went off in the direction of the village."</p>

-

-<p>"Carmody Arms," diagnosed John. "I'll go and tell him at once." And he

-strode down the garden with strong, masterful steps.</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">II</p>

-

-<p>Hugo was not in the Carmody Arms. He was standing on the bridge over

-the Skirme, his elbows resting on the parapet, his eyes fixed on the

-flowing water. For a suitor recently accepted by—presumably—the girl

-of his heart, he looked oddly downcast. His eye, when he turned at the

-sound of his name, was the eye of a fish that has had trouble.</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo, John, old man," he said in a toneless voice.</p>

-

-<p>John began to feel his way into the subject he had come to discuss.</p>

-

-<p>"Nice day," he said.</p>

-

-<p>"What is?" said Hugo.</p>

-

-<p>"This."</p>

-

-<p>"I'm glad you think so. John," said Hugo, attaching himself sombrely

-to his cousin's coat sleeve, "I want your advice. In many ways you're

-a stodgy sort of a Gawd-help-us, but you're a level-headed kind of old

-bird, at that, and I want your advice. The fact is, John, believe me or

-believe me not, I've made an ass of myself."</p>

-

-<p>"How's that?"</p>

-

-<p>"I've gone and got engaged to Pat."</p>

-

-<p>Having exploded this bombshell, Hugo leaned against the parapet and

-gazed at his cousin with a certain moody satisfaction.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?" said John.</p>

-

-<p>"You don't seem much surprised," said Hugo, disappointed.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I'm astonished," said John. "How did it happen?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo, who had released his companion's coat sleeve, now reached out for

-it again. The feel of it seemed to inspire him.</p>

-

-<p>"It was that bloke Bessemer's wedding that started the whole trouble,"

-he said. "You remember I told you about Ronnie's man, Bessemer."</p>

-

-<p>"I remember you said he had remarkable ears."</p>

-

-<p>"Like airplane wings. Nevertheless, in spite of that, he got married

-yesterday. The wedding took place from Ronnie's flat."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes?"</p>

-

-<p>Hugo sighed.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, you know how it is, John, old man. There's something about a

-wedding, even the wedding of a gargoyle like Bessemer, that seems

-to breed sentimentality. It may have been the claret cup. I warned

-Ronnie from the first against the claret cup. A noxious drink. But he

-said—with a good deal of truth, no doubt—that if I thought he was

-going to waste champagne on a blighter who was leaving him in the lurch

-without a tear I was jolly well mistaken. So we more or less bathed in

-claret cup at the subsequent festivities, and it wasn't more than an

-hour afterward when something seemed to come over me all in a rush."</p>

-

-<p>"What?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, a sort of aching, poignant feeling. All the sorrows of the world

-seemed to be laid out in front of me in a solid mass."</p>

-

-<p>"That sounds more like lobster."</p>

-

-<p>"It may have been the lobster," conceded Hugo. "But I maintain that the

-claret cup helped. Well, I just sat there, bursting with pity for the

-whole human race, and then suddenly it all seemed in a flash, as it

-were, to become concentrated on Pat."</p>

-

-<p>"You burst with pity for Pat?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. You see, an idea suddenly came to me. I thought about you and Pat

-and how Pat, in spite of all my arguments, wouldn't look at you, and

-all at once there flashed across me what I took to be the explanation.

-Something seemed to whisper to me that the reason Pat couldn't see you

-with a spy glass was that all these years she had been secretly pining

-for me."</p>

-

-<p>"What on earth made you think that?"</p>

-

-<p>"Looking back on it now, in a clear and judicial frame of mind, I can

-see that it was the claret cup. That and the general ghastly, soppy

-atmosphere of a wedding. I sat straight down, John, old man, and I

-wrote a letter to Pat, asking her to marry me. I was filled with a sort

-of divine pity for the poor girl."</p>

-

-<p>"Why do you call her the poor girl? She wasn't married to you."</p>

-

-<p>"And then I had a moment of sense, so I thought that before I posted

-the letter I'd go for a stroll and think it over. I left the letter on

-Ronnie's desk, and got my hat and took a turn round the Serpentine.

-And, what with the fresh air and everything, pretty soon I found Reason

-returning to her throne. I had been on the very brink, I realized, of

-making a most consummate chump of myself. Here I was, I reflected, on

-the threshold of a career, when it was vitally necessary that I should

-avoid all entanglements, and concentrate myself wholly on my life

-work, deliberately going out of my way to get myself hitched up. I'm

-not saying anything against Pat. Don't think that. We've always been

-the best of pals, and if I were backed into a corner and made to marry

-someone I'd just as soon it was her. It was the principle of the thing

-that was all wrong, if you see what I mean. Entanglements. I had to

-keep myself clear of them."</p>

-

-<p>Hugo paused and glanced down at the water of the Skirme, as if debating

-the advisability of throwing himself into it. After a while he resumed.</p>

-

-<p>"I was bunging a bit of wedding cake to the Serpentine ducks when I

-got this flash of clear vision, and I turned straight round and legged

-it back to the flat to destroy that letter. And when I got there the

-letter had gone. And the bride's mother, a stout old lady with a cast

-in the left eye, who was still hanging about the kitchen, finishing

-up the remains of the wedding feast, told me without a tremor in her

-voice, with her mouth full of lobster mayonnaise, that she had given it

-to Bessemer to post on his way to the station."</p>

-

-<p>"So there you were," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"So there," agreed Hugo, "I was. The happy pair, I knew, were to spend

-the honeymoon at Bexhill, so I rushed out and grabbed a taxi and

-offered the man double fare if he would get me to Victoria Station in

-five minutes. He did it with seconds to spare, but it was too late.

-The first thing I saw on reaching the platform was the Bexhill train

-pulling out. Bessemer's face was visible in one of the front coaches.

-He was leaning out of the window, trying to detach a white satin shoe

-which some kind friend had tied to the door handle. And I slumped back

-against a passing porter, knowing that this was the end."</p>

-

-<p>"What did you do then?"</p>

-

-<p>"I went back to Ronnie's flat to look up the trains to Rudge. Are

-you aware, John, that this place has the rottenest train service in

-England? After the five-sixteen, which I'd missed, there isn't anything

-till nine-twenty. And, what with having all this on my mind and getting

-a bit of dinner and not keeping a proper eye on the clock, I missed

-that, too. In the end, I had to take the 3 A.M. milk train. I

-won't attempt to describe to you what a hell of a journey it was, but I

-got to Rudge at last, and, racing like a hare, rushed to Pat's house. I

-had a sort of idea I might intercept the postman and get him to give me

-my letter back."</p>

-

-<p>"He wouldn't have done that."</p>

-

-<p>"He didn't have to, as things turned out. Just as I got to the house,

-he was coming out after delivering the letters. I think I must have

-gone to sleep then, standing up. At any rate, I came to with a deuce of

-a start, and I was leaning against Pat's front gate, and there was Pat

-looking at me, and I said, 'Hullo!' and she said, 'Hullo! and then she

-said in rather a rummy sort of voice that she'd got my letter and read

-it and would be delighted to marry me."</p>

-

-<p>"And then?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I said, 'Thanks awfully,' or words to that effect, and tooled off

-to the Carmody Arms to get a bite of breakfast. Which I sorely needed,

-old boy. And then I think I fell asleep again, because the next thing

-I knew was old Judwin, the coffee-room waiter, trying to haul my head

-out of the marmalade. After that I came here and stood on this bridge,

-thinking things over. And what I want to know from you, John, is what

-is to be done."</p>

-

-<p>John reflected.</p>

-

-<p>"It's an awkward business."</p>

-

-<p>"Dashed awkward. It's imperative that I oil out, and yet I don't want

-to break the poor girl's heart."</p>

-

-<p>"This will require extraordinarily careful handling."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>John reflected again.</p>

-

-<p>"Let me see," he said suddenly, "when did you say Pat got engaged to

-you?"</p>

-

-<p>"It must have been around nine, I suppose."</p>

-

-<p>"You're sure?"</p>

-

-<p>"Well, that would be the time the first post would be delivered,

-wouldn't it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, but you said you went to sleep after seeing the postman."</p>

-

-<p>"That's true. But what does it matter, anyway?"</p>

-

-<p>"It's most important. Well, look here, it was more than ten minutes

-ago, wasn't it?"</p>

-

-<p>"Of course it was."</p>

-

-<p>John's face cleared.</p>

-

-<p>"Then that's all right," he said. "Because ten minutes ago Pat got

-engaged to me."</p>

-

-<hr class="tb">

-<p class="ph2">III</p>

-

-<p>A light breeze was blowing through the garden as John returned. It

-played with sunshine in Pat's hair as she stood by the lavender hedge.</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" she said eagerly.</p>

-

-<p>"It's all right," said John.</p>

-

-<p>"You told him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>There was a pause. The bees buzzed among the lavender.</p>

-

-<p>"Was he——?"</p>

-

-<p>"Cut up?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said John in a low voice. "But he took it like a sportsman. I

-left him almost cheerful."</p>

-

-<p>He would have said more, but at this moment his attention was diverted

-by a tickling sensation in his right leg. A suspicion that one of the

-bees, wearying of lavender, was exploring the surface of his calf, came

-to John. But, even as he raised a hand to swat the intruder, Pat spoke

-again.</p>

-

-<p>"Johnnie."</p>

-

-<p>"Hullo?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."</p>

-

-<p>John's suspicion grew. It felt like a bee. He believed it was a bee.</p>

-

-<p>"Thinking? What about?"</p>

-

-<p>"You."</p>

-

-<p>"Me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes."</p>

-

-<p>"What were you thinking about me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Only that you were the most wonderful thing in the world."</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!"</p>

-

-<p>"You are, you know," said Pat, examining him gravely. "I don't know

-what it is about you, and I can't imagine why I have been all

-these years finding it out, but you're the dearest, sweetest, most

-angelic...."</p>

-

-<p>"Tell me more," said John.</p>

-

-<p>He took her in his arms, and time stood still.</p>

-

-<p>"Pat!" whispered John.</p>

-

-<p>He was now positive that it was a bee, and almost as positive that it

-was merely choosing a suitable spot before stinging him. But he made no

-move. The moment was too sacred.</p>

-

-<p>After all, bee stings were good for rheumatism.</p>

-

-

-<p class="ph2">THE END</p>

-

-<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***</div>

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+      Money For Nothing | Project Gutenberg
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+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***</div>
+
+<div class="titlepage">
+
+<h1>MONEY FOR NOTHING</h1>
+
+<p class="ph1">BY P. G. WODEHOUSE</p>
+
+<p>GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK<br>
+DOUBLEDAY, DORAN &amp; COMPANY, INC.<br>
+1928</p>
+
+<p>COPYRIGHT, 1928,<br>
+BY P. G. WODEHOUSE<br>
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br>
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT<br>
+THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS,<br>
+GARDEN CITY, N. Y.</p>
+
+<p>FIRST EDITION</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h2>MONEY FOR NOTHING</h2>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>The picturesque village of Rudge-in-the-Vale dozed in the summer
+sunshine. Along its narrow High Street the only signs of life visible
+were a cat stropping its backbone against the Jubilee Watering Trough,
+some flies doing deep-breathing exercises on the hot window sills, and
+a little group of serious thinkers who, propped up against the wall of
+the Carmody Arms, were waiting for that establishment to open. At no
+time is there ever much doing in Rudge's main thoroughfare, but the
+hour at which a stranger, entering it, is least likely to suffer the
+illusion that he has strayed into Broadway, Piccadilly, or the Rue de
+Rivoli is at two o'clock on a warm afternoon in July.</p>
+
+<p>You will find Rudge-in-the-Vale, if you search carefully, in
+that pleasant section of rural England where the gray stone of
+Gloucestershire gives place to Worcestershire's old red brick. Quiet,
+in fact, almost unconscious, it nestles beside the tiny river Skirme
+and lets the world go by, somnolently content with its Norman church,
+its eleven public-houses, its Pop.—to quote the Automobile Guide—of
+3,541, and its only effort in the direction of modern progress, the
+emporium of Chas. Bywater, Chemist.</p>
+
+<p>Chas. Bywater is a live wire. He takes no afternoon siesta, but works
+while others sleep. Rudge as a whole is inclined after luncheon to go
+into the back room, put a handkerchief over its face and take things
+easy for a bit. But not Chas. Bywater. At the moment at which this
+story begins he was all bustle and activity, and had just finished
+selling to Colonel Meredith Wyvern a bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir (said to be good for gnat bites).</p>
+
+<p>Having concluded his purchase, Colonel Wyvern would have preferred
+to leave, but Mr. Bywater was a man who liked to sweeten trade with
+pleasant conversation. Moreover, this was the first time the Colonel
+had been inside his shop since that sensational affair up at the Hall
+two weeks ago, and Chas. Bywater, who held the unofficial position of
+chief gossip monger to the village, was aching to get to the bottom of
+that.</p>
+
+<p>With the bare outline of the story he was, of course, familiar. Rudge
+Hall, seat of the Carmody family for so many generations, contained in
+its fine old park a number of trees which had been planted somewhere
+about the reign of Queen Elizabeth. This meant that every now and
+then one of them would be found to have become a wobbly menace to the
+passer-by, so that experts had to be sent for to reduce it with a
+charge of dynamite to a harmless stump. Well, two weeks ago, it seems,
+they had blown up one of the Hall's Elizabethan oaks and as near as a
+toucher, Rudge learned, had blown up Colonel Wyvern and Mr. Carmody
+with it. The two friends had come walking by just as the expert set
+fire to the train and had had a very narrow escape.</p>
+
+<p>Thus far the story was common property in the village, and had been
+discussed nightly in the eleven tap-rooms of its eleven public-houses.
+But Chas. Bywater, with his trained nose for news and that sixth sense
+which had so often enabled him to ferret out the story behind the story
+when things happen in the upper world of the nobility and gentry, could
+not help feeling that there was more in it than this. He decided to
+give his customer the opportunity of confiding in him.</p>
+
+<p>"Warm day, Colonel," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>"Ur," grunted Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>"Glass going up, I see."</p>
+
+<p>"Ur."</p>
+
+<p>"May be in for a spell of fine weather at last."</p>
+
+<p>"Ur."</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to see you looking so well, Colonel, after your little accident,"
+said Chas. Bywater, coming out into the open.</p>
+
+<p>It had been Colonel Wyvern's intention, for he was a man of testy
+habit, to enquire of Mr. Bywater why the devil he couldn't wrap a
+bottle of Brophy's Elixir in brown paper and put a bit of string round
+it without taking the whole afternoon over the task: but at these words
+he abandoned this project. Turning a bright mauve and allowing his
+luxuriant eyebrows to meet across the top of his nose, he subjected the
+other to a fearful glare.</p>
+
+<p>"Little accident?" he said. "Little accident?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was alluding——"</p>
+
+<p>"Little accident!"</p>
+
+<p>"I merely——"</p>
+
+<p>"If by little accident," said Colonel Wyvern in a thick, throaty voice,
+"you mean my miraculous escape from death when that fat thug up at the
+Hall did his very best to murder me, I should be obliged if you would
+choose your expressions more carefully. Little accident! Good God!"</p>
+
+<p>Few things in this world are more painful than the realization that an
+estrangement has occurred between two old friends who for years have
+jogged amiably along together through life, sharing each other's joys
+and sorrows and holding the same views on religion, politics, cigars,
+wine, and the Decadence of the Younger Generation: and Mr. Bywater's
+reaction, on hearing Colonel Wyvern describe Mr. Lester Carmody, of
+Rudge Hall, until two short weeks ago his closest crony, as a fat thug,
+should have been one of sober sadness. Such, however, was not the
+case. Rather was he filled with an unholy exultation. All along he had
+maintained that there was more in that Hall business than had become
+officially known, and he stood there with his ears flapping, waiting
+for details.</p>
+
+<p>These followed immediately and in great profusion: and Mr. Bywater, as
+he drank them in, began to realize that his companion had certain solid
+grounds for feeling a little annoyed. For when, as Colonel Wyvern very
+sensibly argued, you have been a man's friend for twenty years and are
+walking with him in his park and hear warning shouts and look up and
+realize that a charge of dynamite is shortly about to go off in your
+immediate neighbourhood, you expect a man who is a man to be a man. You
+do not expect him to grab you round the waist and thrust you swiftly
+in between himself and the point of danger, so that, when the explosion
+takes place, you get the full force of it and he escapes without so
+much as a singed eyebrow.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater, hitching up his ears another inch.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern continued. Whether, if in a condition to give the matter
+careful thought, he would have selected Chas. Bywater as a confidant,
+one cannot say. But he was not in such a condition. The stoppered
+bottle does not care whose is the hand that removes its cork—all
+it wants is the chance to fizz: and Colonel Wyvern resembled such a
+bottle. Owing to the absence from home of his daughter, Patricia, he
+had had no one handy to act as audience for his grievances, and for two
+weeks he had been suffering torments. He told Chas. Bywater all.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very vivid picture that he conjured up. Mr. Bywater could see
+the whole thing as clearly as if he had been present in person—from
+the blasting gang's first horrified realization that human beings
+had wandered into the danger zone to the almost tenser moment when,
+running up to sort out the tangled heap on the ground, they had
+observed Colonel Wyvern rise from his seat on Mr. Carmody's face and
+had heard him start to tell that gentleman precisely what he thought
+of him. Privately, Mr. Bywater considered that Mr. Carmody had acted
+with extraordinary presence of mind, and had given the lie to the
+theory, held by certain critics, that the landed gentry of England are
+deficient in intelligence. But his sympathies were, of course, with
+the injured man. He felt that Colonel Wyvern had been hardly treated,
+and was quite right to be indignant about it. As to whether the other
+was justified in alluding to his former friend as a jelly-bellied
+hell-hound, that was a matter for his own conscience to decide.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm suing him," concluded Colonel Wyvern, regarding an advertisement
+of Pringle's Pink Pills with a smouldering eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite."</p>
+
+<p>"The only thing in the world that super-fatted old Blackhander cares
+for is money, and I'll have his last penny out of him, if I have to
+take the case to the House of Lords."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>"I might have been killed. It was a miracle I wasn't. Five thousand
+pounds is the lowest figure any conscientious jury could put the
+damages at. And, if there were any justice in England, they'd ship the
+scoundrel off to pick oakum in a prison cell."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bywater made noncommittal noises. Both parties to this unfortunate
+affair were steady customers of his, and he did not wish to alienate
+either by taking sides. He hoped the Colonel was not going to ask him
+for his opinion of the rights of the case.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern did not. Having relieved himself with some six minutes
+of continuous speech, he seemed to have become aware that he had
+bestowed his confidences a little injudiciously. He coughed and changed
+the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that stuff?" he said. "Good God! Isn't it ready yet? Why does
+it take you fellows three hours to tie a knot in a piece of string?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite ready, Colonel," said Chas. Bywater hastily. "Here it is. I have
+put a little loop for the finger, to facilitate carrying."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this stuff really any good?"</p>
+
+<p>"Said to be excellent, Colonel. Thank you, Colonel. Much obliged,
+Colonel. Good day, Colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Still fermenting at the recollection of his wrongs, Colonel Wyvern
+strode to the door: and, pushing it open with extreme violence, left
+the shop.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment the peace of the drowsy summer afternoon was shattered
+by a hideous uproar. Much of this consisted of a high, passionate
+barking, the remainder being contributed by the voice of a retired
+military man, raised in anger. Chas. Bywater blenched, and, reaching
+out a hand toward an upper shelf, brought down, in the order named,
+a bundle of lint, a bottle of arnica, and one of the half-crown (or
+large) size pots of Sooth-o, the recognized specific for cuts, burns,
+scratches, nettle stings, and dog bites. He believed in Preparedness.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>While Colonel Wyvern had been pouring his troubles into the twitching
+ear of Chas. Bywater, there had entered the High Street a young man in
+golf clothes and Old Rugbian tie. This was John Carroll, nephew of Mr.
+Carmody, of the Hall. He had walked down to the village, accompanied
+by his dog Emily, to buy tobacco, and his objective, therefore, was
+the same many-sided establishment which was supplying the Colonel with
+Brophy's Elixir.</p>
+
+<p>For do not be deceived by that "Chemist" after Mr. Bywater's name. It
+is mere modesty. Some whim leads this great man to describe himself as
+a chemist, but in reality he goes much deeper than that. Chas. is the
+Marshall Field of Rudge, and deals in everything, from crystal sets to
+mousetraps. There are several places in the village where you can get
+stuff they call tobacco, but it cannot be considered in the light of
+pipe-joy for the discriminating smoker. To obtain something that will
+leave a little skin on the roof of the mouth you must go to Mr. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>John came up the High Street with slow, meditative strides, a large
+and muscular young man whose pleasant features betrayed at the
+moment an inward gloom. What with being hopelessly in love and one
+thing and another, his soul was in rather a bruised condition these
+days, and he found himself deriving from the afternoon placidity of
+Rudge-in-the-Vale a certain balm and consolation. He had sunk into a
+dreamy trance when he was abruptly aroused by the horrible noise which
+had so shaken Chas. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>The causes which had brought about this disturbance were simple and
+are easily explained. It was the custom of the dog Emily, on the
+occasions when John brought her to Rudge to help him buy tobacco,
+to yield to an uncontrollable eagerness and gallop on ahead to Mr.
+Bywater's shop—where, with her nose wedged against the door, she would
+stand, sniffing emotionally, till somebody came and opened it. She
+had a morbid passion for cough drops, and experience had taught her
+that by sitting and ogling Mr. Bywater with her liquid amber eyes she
+could generally secure two or three. To-day, hurrying on as usual, she
+had just reached the door and begun to sniff when it suddenly opened
+and hit her sharply on the nose. And, as she shot back with a yelp of
+agony, out came Colonel Wyvern carrying his bottle of Brophy.</p>
+
+<p>There is an etiquette in these matters on which all right-minded dogs
+insist. When people trod on Emily, she expected them immediately to
+fuss over her, and the same procedure seemed to her to be in order when
+they hit her on the nose with doors. Waiting expectantly, therefore,
+for Colonel Wyvern to do the square thing, she was stunned to find that
+he apparently had no intention of even apologizing. He was brushing
+past without a word, and all the woman in Emily rose in revolt against
+such boorishness.</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute!" she said dangerously. "Just one minute, if you please.
+Not so fast, my good man. A word with you, if I may trespass upon your
+valuable time."</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel, chafing beneath the weight of his wrongs, perceived that
+they had been added to by a beast of a hairy dog that stood and yapped
+at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Get out!" he bellowed.</p>
+
+<p>Emily became hysterical.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" she said shrilly. "And who do you think you are, you poor
+clumsy Robot? You come hitting ladies on the nose as if you were the
+King of England, and as if that wasn't enough...."</p>
+
+<p>"Go away, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Who the devil are you calling Sir?" Emily had the Twentieth Century
+girl's freedom of speech and breadth of vocabulary. "It's people like
+you that cause all this modern unrest and industrial strife. I know
+your sort well. Robbers and oppressors. And let me tell you another
+thing...."</p>
+
+<p>At this point the Colonel very injudiciously aimed a kick at Emily.</p>
+
+<p>It was not much of a kick, and it came nowhere near her, but it
+sufficed. Realizing the futility of words, Emily decided on action. And
+it was just as she had got a preliminary grip on the Colonel's left
+trouser leg that John arrived at the Front.</p>
+
+<p>"Emily!!!" roared John, shocked to the core of his being.</p>
+
+<p>He had excellent lungs, and he used them to the last ounce of their
+power. A young man who sees the father of the girl he loves being
+swallowed alive by a Welsh terrier does not spare his voice. The
+word came out of him like the note of the Last Trump, and Colonel
+Wyvern, leaping spasmodically, dropped his bottle of Brophy. It fell
+on the pavement and exploded, and Emily, who could do her bit in a
+rough-and-tumble but barred bombs, tucked her tail between her legs
+and vanished. A faint, sleepy cheering from outside the Carmody Arms
+announced that she had passed that home from home and was going well.</p>
+
+<p>John continued to be agitated. You would not have supposed, to look
+at Colonel Wyvern, that he could have had an attractive daughter, but
+such was the case, and John's manner was as concerned and ingratiating
+as that of most young men in the presence of the fathers of attractive
+daughters.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so sorry, Colonel. I do hope you're not hurt, Colonel."</p>
+
+<p>The injured man, maintaining an icy silence, raked him with an eye
+before which sergeant-majors had once drooped like withered roses, and
+walked into the shop. The anxious face of Chas. Bywater loomed up over
+the counter. John hovered in the background. "I want another bottle of
+that stuff," said the Colonel shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm awfully sorry," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"I dropped the other outside. I was attacked by a savage dog."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm frightfully sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"People ought not to have these pests running loose and not under
+proper control."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm fearfully sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"A menace to the community and a nuisance to everybody," said Colonel
+Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>Conversation languished. Chas. Bywater, realizing that this was no
+moment for lingering lovingly over brown paper and toying dreamily with
+string, lowered the record for wrapping a bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir by such a margin that he set up a mark for other chemists to
+shoot at for all time. Colonel Wyvern snatched it and stalked out,
+and John, who had opened the door for him and had not been thanked,
+tottered back to the counter and in a low voice expressed a wish for
+two ounces of the Special Mixture.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Mr. Bywater. "In one moment, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>With the passing of Colonel Wyvern a cloud seemed to have rolled
+away from the chemist's world. He was his old, charmingly chatty self
+again. He gave John his tobacco, and, detaining him by the simple means
+of not handing over his change, surrendered himself to the joys of
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"The Colonel appears a little upset, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got my change?" said John.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me he hasn't been the same man since that unfortunate
+episode up at the Hall. Not at all the same sunny gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got my change?"</p>
+
+<p>"A very unfortunate episode, that," sighed Mr. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>"My change?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could see, the moment he walked in here, that he was not himself.
+Shaken. Something in the way he looked at one. I said to myself 'The
+Colonel's shaken!'"</p>
+
+<p>John, who had had such recent experience of the way Colonel Wyvern
+looked at one, agreed. He then asked if he might have his change.</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt he misses Miss Wyvern," said Chas. Bywater, ignoring the
+request with an indulgent smile. "When a man's had a shock like the
+Colonel's had—when he's shaken, if you understand what I mean—he
+likes to have his loved ones around him. Stands to reason," said Mr.
+Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>John had been anxious to leave, but he was so constituted that he could
+not tear himself away from anyone who had touched on the subject of
+Patricia Wyvern. He edged a little nearer the counter.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she'll be home again soon," said Chas. Bywater. "To-morrow, I
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>A powerful current of electricity seemed to pass itself through John's
+body. Pat Wyvern had been away so long that he had fallen into a sort
+of dull apathy in which he wondered sometimes if he would ever see her
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. She returned from France yesterday. She had a good crossing.
+She is at the Lincoln Hotel, Curzon Street, London. She thinks of
+taking the three-o'clock train to-morrow. She is in excellent health."</p>
+
+<p>It did not occur to John to question the accuracy of the other's
+information, nor to be surprised at its minuteness of detail. Mr.
+Bywater, he was aware, had a daughter in the post office.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow!" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. To-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me my change," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He yearned to be off. He wanted air and space in which he could ponder
+over this wonderful news.</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt," said Mr. Bywater, "she...."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me my change," said John.</p>
+
+<p>Chas. Bywater, happening to catch his eye, did so.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>To reach Rudge Hall from the door of Chas. Bywater's shop, you go up
+the High Street, turn sharp to the left down River Lane, cross the
+stone bridge that spans the slow-flowing Skirme as it potters past on
+its way to join the Severn, carry on along the road till you come to
+the gates of Colonel Wyvern's nice little house, and then climb a stile
+and take to the fields. And presently you are in the park and can see
+through the trees the tall chimneys and red walls of the ancient home
+of the Carmodys.</p>
+
+<p>The scene, when they are not touching off dynamite there under the
+noses of retired military officers, is one of quiet peace. For John
+it had always held a peculiar magic. In the fourteen years which had
+passed since the Wyverns had first come to settle in Rudge Pat had
+contrived, so far as he was concerned, to impress her personality
+ineffaceably on the landscape. Almost every inch of it was in some
+way associated with her. Stumps on which she had sat and swung her
+brown-stockinged legs; trees beneath which she had taken shelter with
+him from summer storms; gates on which she had climbed, fields across
+which she had raced, and thorny bushes into which she had urged him to
+penetrate in search of birds' eggs—they met his eye on every side.
+The very air seemed to be alive with her laughter. And not even the
+recollection that that laughter had generally been directed at himself
+was able to diminish for John the glamour of this mile of Fairyland.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way across the park, Emily rejoined him with a defensive,
+Where-on-earth-did-you-disappear-to manner, and they moved on in
+company till they rounded the corner of the house and came to the
+stable yard. John had a couple of rooms over the stables, and thither
+he made his way, leaving Emily to fuss round Bolt, the chauffeur, who
+was washing the Dex-Mayo.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived in his sitting room, he sank into a deck chair and filled his
+pipe with Mr. Bywater's Special Mixture. Then, putting his feet up on
+the table, he stared hard and earnestly at the photograph of Pat which
+stood on the mantelpiece.</p>
+
+<p>It was a pretty face that he was looking at—one whose charm not even
+a fashionable modern photographer, of the type that prefers to depict
+his sitters in a gray fog with most of their features hidden from
+view, could altogether obscure. In the eyes, a little slanting, there
+was a Puck-like look, and the curving lips hinted demurely at amusing
+secrets. The nose had that appealing, yet provocative, air which slight
+tip-tiltedness gives. It seemed to challenge, and at the same time to
+withdraw.</p>
+
+<p>This was the latest of the Pat photographs, and she had given it to him
+three months ago, just before she left to go and stay with friends at
+Le Touquet. And now she was coming home....</p>
+
+<p>John Carroll was one of those solid persons who do not waver in their
+loyalties. He had always been in love with Pat, and he always would
+be, though he would have had to admit that she gave him very little
+encouragement. There had been a period when, he being fifteen and she
+ten, Pat had lavished on him all the worship of a small girl for a big
+boy who can wiggle his ears and is not afraid of cows. But since then
+her attitude had changed. Her manner toward him nowadays alternated
+between that of a nurse toward a child who is not quite right in the
+head and that of the owner of a clumsy but rather likable dog.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, he loved her. And she was coming home....</p>
+
+<p>John sat up suddenly. He was a slow thinker, and only now did it occur
+to him just what the position of affairs would be when she did come
+home. With this infernal feud going on between his uncle Lester and
+the old Colonel she would probably look on him as in the enemy's camp
+and refuse to see or speak to him.</p>
+
+<p>The thought chilled him to the marrow. Something, he felt, must be
+done, and swiftly. And, with a flash of inspiration of a kind that
+rarely came to him, he saw what that something was. He must go up
+to London this afternoon, tell her the facts, and throw himself on
+her clemency. If he could convince her that he was whole-heartedly
+pro-Colonel and regarded his uncle Lester as the logical successor
+to Doctor Crippen and the Brides-in-the-Bath murderer, things might
+straighten themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Once the brain gets working, there is no knowing where it will stop.
+The very next instant there had come to John Carroll a thought so new
+and breathtaking that he uttered an audible gasp.</p>
+
+<p>Why shouldn't he ask Pat to marry him?</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>John sat tingling from head to foot. The scales seemed to have fallen
+from his eyes, and he saw clearly where he might quite conceivably have
+been making a grave blunder all these years. Deeply as he had always
+loved Pat, he had never—now he came to think of it—told her so. And
+in this sort of situation the spoken word is quite apt to make all the
+difference.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps that was why she laughed at him so frequently—because she was
+entertained by the spectacle of a man, obviously in love with her,
+refraining year after year from making any verbal comment on the state
+of his emotions.</p>
+
+<p>Resolution poured over John in a strengthening flood. He looked at
+his watch. It was nearly three. If he got the two-seater and started
+at once, he could be in London by seven, in nice time to take her to
+dinner somewhere. He hurried down the stairs and out into the stable
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>"Shove that car out of the way, Bolt," said John, eluding Emily, who,
+wet to the last hair, was endeavouring to climb up him. "I want to get
+the two-seater."</p>
+
+<p>"Two-seater, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm going to London."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not there, Mr. John," said the chauffeur, with the gloomy
+satisfaction which he usually reserved for telling his employer that
+the battery had run down.</p>
+
+<p>"Not there? What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hugo took it, sir, an hour ago. He told me he was going over to
+see Mr. Carmody at Healthward Ho. Said he had important business and
+knew you wouldn't object."</p>
+
+<p>The stable yard reeled before John. Not for the first time in his life,
+he cursed his light-hearted cousin. "Knew you wouldn't object!" It was
+just the fat-headed sort of thing Hugo would have said.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>There is something about those repellent words, Healthward Ho, that has
+a familiar ring. You feel that you have heard them before. And then you
+remember. They have figured in letters to the daily papers from time to
+time.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph2">THE STRAIN OF MODERN LIFE</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>
+
+<p><i>The Times.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>
+
+<p>In connection with the recent correspondence in your columns on the
+Strain of Modern Life, I wonder if any of your readers are aware
+that there exists in the county of Worcestershire an establishment
+expressly designed to correct this strain. At Healthward Ho (formerly
+Graveney Court), under the auspices of the well-known American
+physician and physical culture expert, Doctor Alexander Twist, it is
+possible for those who have allowed the demands of modern life to tax
+their physique too greatly to recuperate in ideal surroundings and by
+means of early hours, wholesome exercise, and Spartan fare to build up
+once more their debilitated tissues.</p>
+
+<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>
+
+<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>
+
+Yrs. etc.,<br>
+
+<span class="smcap">Mens Sana in Corpore Sano</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="ph2">DO WE EAT TOO MUCH?</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Daily Mail.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>
+
+<p>The correspondence in your columns on the above subject calls to
+mind a remark made to me not long ago by Doctor Alexander Twist,
+the well-known American physician and physical culture expert.
+"Over-eating," said Doctor Twist emphatically, "is the curse of the
+Age."</p>
+
+<p>At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), his physical culture
+establishment in Worcestershire, wholesale exercise and Spartan fare
+are the order of the day, and Doctor Twist has, I understand, worked
+miracles with the most apparently hopeless cases.</p>
+
+<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>
+
+<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>
+
+Yrs. etc.,<br>
+
+<span class="smcap">Moderation in all Things</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="ph2">SHOULD THE CHAPERONE BE RESTORED?</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Daily Express.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>:</p>
+
+<p>A far more crying need than that of the Chaperone in these modern days
+is for a Supervisor of the middle-aged man who has allowed himself to
+get "out of shape."</p>
+
+<p>At Healthward Ho (formerly Graveney Court), in Worcestershire, where
+Doctor Alexander Twist, the well-known American physician and physical
+culture expert, ministers to such cases, wonders have been achieved by
+means of simple fare and mild, but regular, exercise.</p>
+
+<p>It is the boast of Doctor Twist that he makes New Men for Old.</p>
+
+<p class="ph3">I am, sir,<br>
+
+Yrs. etc.<br>
+
+<span class="smcap">Vigilant</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>These letters and many others, though bearing a pleasing variety of
+signatures, proceeded in fact from a single gifted pen—that of Doctor
+Twist himself—and among that class of the public which consistently
+does itself too well when the gong goes and yet is never wholly free
+from wistful aspirations toward a better liver they had created a
+scattered but quite satisfactory interest in Healthward Ho. Clients
+had enrolled themselves on the doctor's books, and now, on this summer
+afternoon, he was enabled to look down from his study window at a group
+of no fewer than eleven of them, skipping with skipping ropes under the
+eye of his able and conscientious assistant, ex-Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes—and even, on one of his bright days, Doctor
+Watson—could have told at a glance which of those muffled figures was
+Mr. Flannery. He was the only one who went in instead of out at the
+waist-line. All the others were well up in the class of man whom Julius
+Cæsar once expressed a desire to have about him. And pre-eminent among
+them in stoutness, dampness, and general misery was Mr. Lester Carmody,
+of Rudge Hall.</p>
+
+<p>The fact that Mr. Carmody was by several degrees the most
+unhappy-looking member of this little band of martyrs was due to his
+distress, unlike that of his fellow-sufferers, being mental as well as
+physical. He was allowing his mind, for the hundredth time, to dwell on
+the paralyzing cost of these hygienic proceedings.</p>
+
+<p>Thirty guineas a week, thought Mr. Carmody as he bounded up and down.
+Four pound ten a day.... Three shillings and ninepence an hour....
+Three solid farthings a minute.... To meditate on these figures was
+like turning a sword in his heart. For Lester Carmody loved money as he
+loved nothing else in this world except a good dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Twist turned from the window. A maid had appeared bearing a card
+on a salver.</p>
+
+<p>"Show him in," said Doctor Twist, having examined this. And presently
+there entered a lissom young man in a gray flannel suit.</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>The newcomer seemed a little surprised. It was as if he had been
+expecting something rather more impressive, and was wondering why, if
+the proprietor of Healthward Ho had the ability which he claimed, to
+make New Men for Old, he had not taken the opportunity of effecting
+some alterations in himself. For Doctor Twist was a small man, and
+weedy. He had a snub nose and an expression of furtive slyness. And he
+wore a waxed moustache.</p>
+
+<p>However, all this was not the visitor's business. If a man wishes to
+wax his moustache, it is a matter between himself and his God.</p>
+
+<p>"My name's Carmody," he said. "Hugo Carmody."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I got your card."</p>
+
+<p>"Could I have a word with my uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, if you don't mind waiting a minute. Right now," explained Doctor
+Twist, with a gesture toward the window, "he's occupied."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo moved to the window, looked out, and started violently.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Scott!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>He gaped down at the group below. Mr. Carmody and colleagues
+had now discarded the skipping ropes and were performing some
+unpleasant-looking bending and stretching exercises, holding their
+hands above their heads and swinging painfully from what one may
+loosely term their waists. It was a spectacle well calculated to
+astonish any nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"How long has he got to go on like that?" asked Hugo, awed.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Twist looked at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll be quitting soon now. Then a cold shower and rub down, and
+they'll be through till lunch."</p>
+
+<p>"Cold shower?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean to say you make my uncle Lester take cold shower baths?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right."</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!"</p>
+
+<p>A look of respect came into Hugo's face as he gazed upon this master
+of men. Anybody who, in addition to making him tie himself in knots
+under a blazing sun, could lure Uncle Lester within ten yards of a cold
+shower bath was entitled to credit.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose after all this," he said, "they do themselves pretty well at
+lunch?"</p>
+
+<p>"They have a lean mutton chop apiece, with green vegetables and dry
+toast."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all."</p>
+
+<p>"And to drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just water."</p>
+
+<p>"Followed, of course, by a spot of port?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"No port?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean—literally—no port?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a drop. If your old man had gone easier on the port, he'd not have
+needed to come to Healthward Ho."</p>
+
+<p>"I say," said Hugo, "did you invent that name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd ask."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, while I think of it," said Doctor Twist, "have you any
+cigarettes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, rather." Hugo produced a bulging case. "Turkish this side,
+Virginian that."</p>
+
+<p>"Not for me. I was only going to say that when you meet your uncle just
+bear in mind he isn't allowed tobacco."</p>
+
+<p>"Not allowed...? You mean to say you tie Uncle Lester into a lover's
+knot, shoot him under a cold shower, push a lean chop into him
+accompanied by water, and then don't even let the poor old devil get
+his lips around a single gasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, all I can say is," said Hugo, "it's no life for a refined
+Caucasian."</p>
+
+<p>Dazed by the information he had received, he began to potter aimlessly
+about the room. He was not particularly fond of his uncle. Mr. Carmody
+Senior's practice of giving him no allowance and keeping him imprisoned
+all the year round at Rudge would alone have been enough to check
+anything in the nature of tenderness, but he did not think he deserved
+quite all that seemed to be coming to him at Healthward Ho.</p>
+
+<p>He mused upon his uncle. A complex character. A man with Lester
+Carmody's loathing for expenditure ought by rights to have been a
+simple liver, existing off hot milk and triturated sawdust like an
+American millionaire. That Fate should have given him, together with
+his prudence in money matters, a recklessness as regarded the pleasures
+of the table seemed ironic.</p>
+
+<p>"I see they've quit," said Doctor Twist, with a glance out of the
+window. "If you want to have a word with your uncle you could do it
+now. No bad news, I hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"If there is I'm the one that's going to get it. Between you and me,"
+said Hugo, who had no secrets from his fellow men, "I've come to try to
+touch him for a bit of money."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?" said Doctor Twist, interested. Anything to do with money
+always interested the well-known American physician and physical
+culture expert.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Hugo. "Five hundred quid, to be exact."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke a little despondently, for, having arrived at the window
+again, he was in a position now to take a good look at his uncle. And
+so forbidding had bodily toil and mental disturbance rendered the
+latter's expression that he found the fresh young hopes with which he
+had started out on this expedition rapidly ebbing away. If Mr. Carmody
+were to burst—and he looked as if he might do so at any moment—he,
+Hugo, being his nearest of kin, would inherit, but, failing that,
+there seemed to be no cash in sight whatever.</p>
+
+<p>"Though when I say 'touch'," he went on, "I don't mean quite that. The
+stuff is really mine. My father left me a few thousand, you see, but
+most injudiciously made Uncle Lester my trustee, and I'm not allowed to
+get at the capital without the old blighter's consent. And now a pal of
+mine in London has written offering me a half share in a new night club
+which he's starting if I will put up five hundred pounds."</p>
+
+<p>"I see."</p>
+
+<p>"And what I ask myself," said Hugo, "is will Uncle Lester part? That's
+what I ask myself. I can't say I'm betting on it."</p>
+
+<p>"From what I have seen of Mr. Carmody, I shouldn't say that parting was
+the thing he does best."</p>
+
+<p>"He's got absolutely no gift for it whatever," said Hugo gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wish you luck," said Doctor Twist. "But don't you try to bribe
+him with cigarettes."</p>
+
+<p>"Do what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bribe him with cigarettes. After they have been taking the treatment
+for a while, most of these birds would give their soul for a coffin
+nail."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo started. He had not thought of this; but, now that it had been
+called to his attention, he saw that it was most certainly an idea.</p>
+
+<p>"And don't keep him standing around longer than you can help. He ought
+to get under that shower as soon as possible."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I couldn't tell him that owing to my pleading and
+persuasion you've consented to let him off a cold shower to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"It would help," urged Hugo. "It might just sway the issue, as it were."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry. He must have his shower. When a man's been exercising and has
+got himself into a perfect lather of sweat...."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep it clean," said Hugo coldly. "There is no need to stress the
+physical side. Oh, very well, then, I suppose I shall have to trust to
+tact and charm of manner. But I wish to goodness I hadn't got to spring
+business matters on him on top of what seems to have been a slightly
+hectic morning."</p>
+
+<p>He shot his cuffs, pulled down his waistcoat, and walked with a
+resolute step out of the room. He was about to try to get into the ribs
+of a man who for a lifetime had been saving up to be a miser and who,
+even apart from this trait in his character, held the subversive view
+that the less money young men had the better for them. Hugo was a gay
+optimist, cheerful of soul and a mighty singer in the bath tub, but
+he could not feel very sanguine. However, the Carmodys were a bulldog
+breed. He decided to have a pop at it.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Theoretically, no doubt, the process of exercising flaccid muscles,
+opening hermetically sealed pores, and stirring up a liver which had
+long supposed itself off the active list ought to engender in a man
+a jolly sprightliness. In practice, however, this is not always so.
+That Lester Carmody was in no radiant mood was shown at once by the
+expression on his face as he turned in response to Hugo's yodel from
+the rear. In spite of all that Healthward Ho had been doing to Mr.
+Carmody this last ten days, it was plain that he had not yet got that
+Kruschen feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Nor, at the discovery that a nephew whom he had supposed to be twenty
+miles away was standing at his elbow, did anything in the nature of
+sudden joy help to fill him with sweetness and light.</p>
+
+<p>"How the devil did you get here?" were his opening words of welcome.
+His scarlet face vanished for an instant into the folds of a large
+handkerchief; then reappeared, wearing a look of acute concern. "You
+didn't," he quavered, "come in the Dex-Mayo?"</p>
+
+<p>A thought to shake the sturdiest man. It was twenty miles from Rudge
+Hall to Healthward Ho, and twenty miles back again from Healthward Ho
+to Rudge Hall. The Dex-Mayo, that voracious car, consumed a gallon of
+petrol for every ten miles it covered. And for a gallon of petrol they
+extorted from you nowadays the hideous sum of one shilling and sixpence
+halfpenny. Forty miles, accordingly, meant—not including oil, wear and
+tear of engines, and depreciation of tires—a loss to his purse of over
+six shillings—a heavy price to pay for the society of a nephew whom he
+had disliked since boyhood.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Hugo hastily. "I borrowed John's two-seater,"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Mr. Carmody, relieved.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause, employed by Mr. Carmody in puffing; by Hugo in
+trying to think of something to say that would be soothing, tactful,
+ingratiating, and calculated to bring home the bacon. He turned over in
+his mind one or two conversational gambits.</p>
+
+<p>("Well, Uncle, you look very rosy."</p>
+
+<p>Not quite right.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Uncle what ho the School-Girl Complexion?"</p>
+
+<p>Absolutely <i>no</i>! The wrong tone altogether.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! That was more like it. "Fit." Yes, that was the word.)</p>
+
+<p>"You look very fit, Uncle," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody's reply to this was to make a noise like a buffalo pulling
+its foot out of a swamp. It might have been intended to be genial, or
+it might not. Hugo could not tell. However, he was a reasonable young
+man, and he quite understood that it would be foolish to expect the
+milk of human kindness instantly to come gushing like a geyser out of
+a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound uncle who had just been doing bending
+and stretching exercises. He must be patient and suave—the Sympathetic
+Nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"I expect it's been pretty tough going, though," he proceeded. "I mean
+to say, all these exercises and cold showers and lean chops and so
+forth. Terribly trying. Very upsetting. A great ordeal. I think it's
+wonderful the way you've stuck it out. Simply wonderful. It's Character
+that does it. That's what it is. Character. Many men would have chucked
+the whole thing up in the first two days."</p>
+
+<p>"So would I," said Mr. Carmody, "only that damned doctor made me give
+him a cheque in advance for the whole course."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo felt damped. He had had some good things to say about Character,
+and it seemed little use producing them now.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, you look very fit. Very fit indeed. Frightfully fit.
+Remarkably fit. Extraordinarily fit." He paused. This was getting him
+nowhere. He decided to leap straight to the point at issue. To put his
+fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. "I say, Uncle Lester, what
+I really came about this afternoon was a matter of business."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed? I supposed you had come merely to babble. What business?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know a friend of mine named Fish?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know a friend of yours named Fish."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he's a friend of mine. His name's Fish. Ronnie Fish."</p>
+
+<p>"What about him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's starting a new night club."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care," said Mr. Carmody, who did not.</p>
+
+<p>"It's just off Bond Street, in the heart of London's pleasure-seeking
+area. He's calling it the Hot Spot."</p>
+
+<p>The only comment Mr. Carmody vouchsafed on this piece of information
+was a noise like another buffalo. His face was beginning to lose its
+vermilion tinge, and it seemed possible that in a few moments he might
+come off the boil.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a letter from him this morning. He says he will give me a half
+share if I put up five hundred quid."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you won't get a half share," predicted Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"But I've got five hundred. I mean to say, you're holding a lot more
+than that in trust for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Holding," said Mr. Carmody, "is the right word."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely you'll let me have this quite trivial sum for a really
+excellent business venture that simply can't fail? Ronnie knows all
+about night clubs. He's practically lived in them since he came down
+from Cambridge."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not give you a penny. Have you no conception of the duties of
+a trustee? Trust money has to be invested in gilt-edged securities."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll never find a gilter-edged security than a night club run by
+Ronnie Fish."</p>
+
+<p>"If you have finished this nonsense I will go and take my shower bath."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, look here, Uncle, may I invite Ronnie to Rudge, so that you can
+have a talk with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may not. I have no desire to talk with him."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd like Ronnie. He has an aunt in the looney-bin."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you consider that a recommendation?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I just mentioned it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I refuse to have him at Rudge."</p>
+
+<p>"But listen, Uncle. The vicar will be round any day now to get me to
+perform at the village concert. If Ronnie were on the spot, he and I
+could do the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i> and really give the
+customers something for their money."</p>
+
+<p>Even this added inducement did not soften Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not invite your friends to Rudge."</p>
+
+<p>"Right ho," said Hugo, a game loser. He was disappointed, but not
+surprised. All along he had felt that that Hot Spot business was merely
+a Utopian dream. There are some men who are temperamentally incapable
+of parting with five hundred pounds, and his uncle Lester was one of
+them. But in the matter of a smaller sum it might be that he would
+prove more pliable, and of this smaller sum Hugo had urgent need.
+"Well, then, putting that aside," he said, "there's another thing I'd
+like to chat about for a moment, if you don't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"I do," said Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a big fight on to-night at the Albert Hall. Eustace Rodd
+and Cyril Warburton are going twenty rounds for the welter-weight
+championship. Have you ever noticed," said Hugo, touching on a matter
+to which he had given some thought, "a rather odd thing about boxers
+these days? A few years ago you never heard of one that wasn't Beefy
+This or Porky That or Young Cat's-meat or something. But now they're
+all Claudes and Harolds and Cuthberts. And when you consider that the
+heavyweight champion of the world is actually named Eugene, it makes
+you think a bit. However, be that as it may, these two birds are going
+twenty rounds to-night, and there you are."</p>
+
+<p>"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is all this drivel?"</p>
+
+<p>He eyed his young relative balefully. In an association that had lasted
+many years, he had found Hugo consistently irritating to his nervous
+system, and he was finding him now rather more trying than usual.</p>
+
+<p>"I only meant to point out that Ronnie Fish has sent me a ticket,
+and I thought that, if you were to spring a tenner for the necessary
+incidental expenses—bed, breakfast, and so on ... well, there I would
+be, don't you know."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean you wish to go to London to see a boxing contest?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're not going. You know I have expressly forbidden you to
+visit London. The last time I was weak enough to allow you to go there,
+what happened? You spent the night in a police station."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but that was Boat-Race Night."</p>
+
+<p>"And I had to pay five pounds for your fine."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo dismissed the past with a gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing," he said, "was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and,
+if you ask me, the verdict of posterity will be that the policeman was
+far more to blame than I was. They're letting a bad type of men into
+the force nowadays. I've noticed it on several occasions. Besides, it
+won't happen again."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right. It will not."</p>
+
+<p>"On second thoughts, then, you will spring that tenner?"</p>
+
+<p>"On first, second, third, and fourth thoughts I will do nothing of the
+kind."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Uncle, do you realize what it would mean if you did?"</p>
+
+<p>"The interpretation I would put upon it is that I was suffering from
+senile decay."</p>
+
+<p>"What it would mean is that I should feel you trusted me, Uncle Lester,
+that you had faith in me. There's nothing so dangerous as a want of
+trust. Ask anybody. It saps a young man's character."</p>
+
+<p>"Let it," said Mr. Carmody callously.</p>
+
+<p>"If I went to London, I could see Ronnie Fish and explain all the
+circumstances about my not being able to go into that Hot Spot thing
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>"You can do that by letter."</p>
+
+<p>"It's so hard to put things properly in a letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Then put them improperly," said Mr. Carmody. "Once and for all, you
+are not going to London."</p>
+
+<p>He had started to turn away as the only means possible of concluding
+this interview, when he stopped, spellbound. For Hugo, as was his habit
+when matters had become difficult and required careful thought, was
+pulling out of his pocket a cigarette case.</p>
+
+<p>"Goosh!" said Mr. Carmody, or something that sounded like that.</p>
+
+<p>He made an involuntary motion with his hand, as a starving man will
+make toward bread: and Hugo, with a strong rush of emotion, realized
+that the happy ending had been achieved and that at the eleventh hour
+matters could at last be put on a satisfactory business basis.</p>
+
+<p>"Turkish this side, Virginian that," he said. "You can have the lot for
+ten quid."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, I think you'd best be getting along and taking your shower, Mr.
+Carmody," said the voice of Doctor Twist, who had come up unobserved
+and was standing at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>The proprietor of Healthward Ho had a rather unpleasant voice, but
+never had it seemed so unpleasant to Mr. Carmody as it did at that
+moment. Parsimonious though he was, he would have given much for the
+privilege of heaving a brick at Doctor Twist. For at the very instant
+of this interruption he had conceived the Machiavellian idea of
+knocking the cigarette case out of Hugo's hand and grabbing what he
+could from the débris: and now this scheme must be abandoned.</p>
+
+<p>With a snort which came from the very depths of an overwrought soul,
+Lester Carmody turned and shuffled off toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, you shouldn't have done that," said Doctor Twist, waggling a
+reproachful head at Hugo. "No, sir, you shouldn't have done that. Not
+right to tantalize the poor fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo's mind seldom ran on parallel lines with that of his uncle, but it
+was animated now by the identical thought which only a short while back
+Mr. Carmody had so wistfully entertained. He, too, was feeling that
+what Doctor Twist needed was a brick thrown at him. When he was able to
+speak, however, he did not mention this, but kept the conversation on a
+pacific and businesslike note.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," he said, "you couldn't lend me a tenner, could you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not," agreed Doctor Twist.</p>
+
+<p>In Hugo's mind the inscrutable problem of why an all-wise Creator
+should have inflicted a man like this on the world deepened.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be pushing along, then," he said moodily.</p>
+
+<p>"Going already?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope," said Doctor Twist, as he escorted his young guest to his
+car, "you aren't sore at me for calling you down about those student's
+lamps. You see, maybe your uncle was hoping you would slip him one, and
+the disappointment will have made him kind of mad. And part of the
+system here is to have the patients think tranquil thoughts."</p>
+
+<p>"Think what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tranquil, beautiful thoughts. You see, if your mind's all right, your
+body's all right. That's the way I look at it."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo settled himself at the wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's get this clear," he said. "You expect my uncle Lester to think
+beautiful thoughts?"</p>
+
+<p>"All the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Even under a cold shower?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you!" said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped on the self-starter, and urged the two-seater pensively
+down the drive. He was glad when the shrubberies hid him from the view
+of Doctor Twist, for one wanted to forget a fellow like that as soon
+as possible. A moment later, he was still gladder: for, as he turned
+the first corner, there popped out suddenly from a rhododendron bush
+a stout man with a red and streaming face. Lester Carmody had had to
+hurry, and he was not used to running.</p>
+
+<p>"Woof!" he ejaculated, barring the fairway.</p>
+
+<p>Relief flooded over Hugo. The marts of trade had not been closed after
+all.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me those cigarettes!" panted Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Hugo toyed with the idea of creating a rising market.
+But he was no profiteer. Hugo Carmody, the Square Dealer.</p>
+
+<p>"Ten quid," he said, "and they're yours."</p>
+
+<p>Agony twisted Mr. Carmody's glowing features.</p>
+
+<p>"Five," he urged.</p>
+
+<p>"Ten," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>"Eight."</p>
+
+<p>"Ten."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody made the great decision.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Give me them. Quick."</p>
+
+<p>"Turkish this side, Virginian that," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>The rhododendron bush quivered once more from the passage of a heavy
+body: birds in the neighbouring trees began to sing again their anthems
+of joy: and Hugo, in his trousers pocket two crackling five-pound
+notes, was bowling off along the highway.</p>
+
+<p>Even Doctor Twist could have found nothing to cavil at in the beauty
+of the thoughts he was thinking. He carolled like a linnet in the
+springtime.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h3>
+
+
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," Hugo Carmody was assuring a listening world as he turned
+the two-seater in at the entrance of the stable yard of Rudge Hall some
+thirty minutes later, "that's my baby. No, sir, don't mean maybe. Yes,
+sir, that's my baby now. And, by the way, by the way...."</p>
+
+<p>"Blast you!" said his cousin John, appearing from nowhere. "Get out of
+that car."</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, John," said Hugo. "So there you are, John. I say, John, I've
+just been paying a call on the head of the family over at Healthward
+Ho. Why they don't run excursion trains of sightseers there is more
+than I can understand. It's worth seeing, believe me. Large, fat men
+doing bending and stretching exercises. Tons of humanity leaping about
+with skipping ropes. Never a dull moment from start to finish, and
+all clean, wholesome fun, mark you, without a taint of vulgarity or
+suggestiveness. Pack some sandwiches and bring the kiddies. And let me
+tell you the best thing of all, John...."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't stop to listen. You've made me late already."</p>
+
+<p>"Late for what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to London."</p>
+
+<p>"You are?" said Hugo, with a smile at the happy coincidence. "So am I.
+You can give me a lift."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't."</p>
+
+<p>"I am certainly not going to run behind."</p>
+
+<p>"You're not going to London."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet I'm going to London."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, go by train, then."</p>
+
+<p>"And break into hard-won cash, every penny of which will be needed for
+the big time in the metropolis? A pretty story!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, you aren't coming with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want you."</p>
+
+<p>"John," said Hugo, "there is more in this than meets the eye. You can't
+deceive me. You are going to London for a purpose. What purpose?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you really want to know, I'm going to see Pat."</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth for? She'll be here to-morrow. I looked in at Chas.
+Bywater's this morning for some cigarettes—and, gosh, how lucky it was
+I did!—by the way, he's putting them down to you—and he told me she's
+arriving by the three-o'clock train."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. Well, I happen to want to see her very particularly to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo eyed his cousin narrowly. He was marshalling the facts and drawing
+conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>"John," he said, "this can mean but one thing. You are driving a
+hundred miles in a shaky car—that left front tire wants a spot of
+air. I should look to it before you start, if I were you—to see a
+girl whom you could see to-morrow in any case by the simple process of
+meeting the three-o'clock train. Your state of mind is such that you
+prefer—actually prefer—not to have my company. And, as I look at you,
+I note that you are blushing prettily. I see it all. You've at last
+decided to propose to Pat. Am I right or wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>John drew a deep breath. He was not one of those men who derive
+pleasure from parading their inmost feelings and discussing with others
+the secrets of their hearts. Hugo, in a similar situation, would have
+advertised his love like the hero of a musical comedy; he would have
+made the round of his friends, confiding in them; and, when the supply
+of friends had given out, would have buttonholed the gardener. But
+John was different. To hear his aspirations put into bald words like
+this made him feel as if he were being divested of most of his more
+important garments in a crowded thoroughfare.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that settles it," said Hugo briskly. "Such being the case, of
+course you must take me along. I will put in a good word for you. Pave
+the way."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," said John, finding speech. "If you dare to come within twenty
+miles of us...."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be wiser. You know what you're like. Heart of gold but no
+conversation. Try to tackle this on your own and you'll bungle it."</p>
+
+<p>"You keep out of this," said John, speaking in a low, husky voice that
+suggested the urgent need of one of those throat lozenges purveyed by
+Chas. Bywater and so esteemed by the dog Emily. "You keep right out of
+this."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Just as you please. Hugo Carmody is the last man," he said, a little
+stiffly, "to thrust his assistance on those who do not require same.
+But a word from me would make all the difference, and you know it.
+Rightly or wrongly, Pat has always looked up to me, regarded me as
+a wise elder brother, and, putting it in a nutshell, hung upon my
+lips. I could start you off right. However, since you're so blasted
+independent, carry on, only bear this in mind—when it's all over and
+you are shedding scalding tears of remorse and thinking of what might
+have been, don't come yowling to me for sympathy, because there won't
+be any."</p>
+
+<p>John went upstairs and packed his bag. He packed well and thoroughly.
+This done, he charged down the stairs, and perceived with annoyance
+that Hugo was still inflicting the stable yard with his beastly
+presence.</p>
+
+<p>But Hugo was not there to make jarring conversation. He was present
+now, it appeared, solely in the capacity of Good Angel.</p>
+
+<p>"I've fixed up that tire," said Hugo, "and filled the tank and put in a
+drop of oil and passed an eye over the machinery in general. She ought
+to run nicely now."</p>
+
+<p>John melted. His mood had softened, and he was in a fitter frame of
+mind to remember that he had always been fond of his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks. Very good of you. Well, good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye," said Hugo. "And heaven speed your wooing, boy."</p>
+
+<p>Freed from the restrictions placed upon a light two-seater by the
+ruts and hillocks of country lanes, John celebrated his arrival on
+the broad main road that led to London by placing a large foot on the
+accelerator and keeping it there. He was behind time, and he intended
+to test a belief which he had long held, that a Widgeon Seven can, if
+pressed, do fifty. To the scenery, singularly beautiful in this part
+of England, he paid no attention. Automatically avoiding wagons by an
+inch and dreamily putting thoughts of the hereafter into the startled
+minds of dogs and chickens, he was out of Worcestershire and into
+Gloucestershire almost before he had really settled in his seat. It
+was only when the long wall that fringes Blenheim Park came into view
+that it was borne in upon him that he would be reaching Oxford in a
+few minutes and could stop for a well-earned cup of tea. He noted with
+satisfaction that he was nicely ahead of the clock.</p>
+
+<p>He drifted past the Martyrs' Memorial, and, picking his way through the
+traffic, drew up at the door of the Clarendon. He alighted stiffly, and
+stretched himself. And as he did so, something caught his attention out
+of the corner of his eye. It was his cousin Hugo, climbing down from
+the dickey.</p>
+
+<p>"A very nice run," said Hugo with satisfaction. "I should say we made
+pretty good time."</p>
+
+<p>He radiated kindliness and satisfaction with all created things. That
+John was looking at him in rather a peculiar way, and apparently trying
+to say something, he did not seem to notice.</p>
+
+<p>"A little refreshment would be delightful," he observed. "Dusty work,
+sitting in dickeys. By the way, I got on to Pat on the 'phone before
+we left, and there's no need to hurry. She's dining out and going to a
+theatre to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried John, in agony.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right. Don't get the wind up. She's meeting us at
+eleven-fifteen at the Mustard Spoon. I'll come on there from the
+fight and we'll have a nice home evening. I'm still a member, so I'll
+sign you in. And, what's more, if all goes well at the Albert Hall
+and Cyril Warburton is half the man I think he is and I can get some
+sporting stranger to bet the other way at reasonable odds, I'll pay the
+bill."</p>
+
+<p>"You're very kind!"</p>
+
+<p>"I try to be, John," said Hugo modestly. "I try to be. I don't think we
+ought to leave it all to the Boy Scouts."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>A man whose uncle jerks him away from London as if he were picking a
+winkle out of its shell with a pin and keeps him for months and months
+immured in the heart of Worcestershire must inevitably lose touch
+with the swiftly-changing kaleidoscope of metropolitan night-life.
+Nothing in a big city fluctuates more rapidly than the status of its
+supper-dancing clubs; and Hugo, had he still been a lad-about-town in
+good standing, would have been aware that recently the Mustard Spoon
+had gone down a good deal in the social scale. Society had migrated to
+other, newer institutions, leaving it to become the haunt of the lesser
+ornaments of the stage and the Portuguese, the Argentines and the
+Greeks.</p>
+
+<p>To John Carroll, however, as he stood waiting in the lobby, the place
+seemed sufficiently gay and glittering. Nearly a year had passed since
+his last visit to London: and the Mustard Spoon rather impressed him.
+An unseen orchestra was playing with extraordinary vigour, and from
+time to time ornate persons of both sexes drifted past him into the
+brightly lighted supper room. Where an established connoisseur of
+night clubs would have pursed his lips and shaken his head, John was
+conscious only of feeling decidedly uplifted and exhilarated.</p>
+
+<p>But then he was going to see Pat again, and that was enough to
+stimulate any man.</p>
+
+<p>She arrived unexpectedly, at a moment when he had taken his eye off the
+door to direct it in mild astonishment at a lady in an orange dress
+who, doubtless with the best motives, had dyed her hair crimson and was
+wearing a black-rimmed monocle. So absorbed was he with this spectacle
+that he did not see her enter, and was only made aware of her presence
+when there spoke from behind him a clear little voice which, even when
+it was laughing at you, always seemed to have in it something of the
+song of larks on summer mornings and winds whispering across the fields
+in spring.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Johnnie."</p>
+
+<p>The hair, scarlet though it was, lost its power to attract. The appeal
+of the monocle waned. John spun round.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!"</p>
+
+<p>She was looking lovelier than ever. That was the thing that first
+presented itself to John's notice. If anybody had told him that Pat
+could possibly be prettier than the image of her which he had been
+carrying about with him all these months, he would not have believed
+him. But so it was. Some sort of a female with plucked eyebrows and
+a painted face had just come in, and she might have been put there
+expressly for purposes of comparison. She made Pat seem so healthy,
+so wholesome, such a thing of the open air and the clean sunshine,
+so pre-eminently fit. She looked as if she had spent her time at Le
+Touquet playing thirty-six holes of golf a day.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!" cried John, and something seemed to catch at his throat. There
+was a mist in front of his eyes. His heart was thumping madly.</p>
+
+<p>She extended her hand composedly. In her this meeting after long
+separation had apparently stirred no depths. Her demeanour was
+friendly, but matter-of-fact.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Johnnie. How nice to see you again. You're looking very brown
+and rural. Where's Hugo?"</p>
+
+<p>It takes two to hoist a conversation to an emotional peak. John choked,
+and became calmer.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be here soon, I expect," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Pat laughed indulgently.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo'll be late for his own funeral—if he ever gets to it. He said
+eleven-fifteen and it's twenty-five to twelve. Have you got a table?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not a member," said John, and saw in her eyes the scorn which
+women reserve for male friends and relations who show themselves
+wanting in enterprise. "You have to be a member," he said, chafing
+under the look.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't," said Pat with decision. "If you think I'm going to wait all
+night for old Hugo in a small lobby with six draughts whizzing through
+it, correct that impression. Go and find the head waiter and get a
+table while I leave my cloak. Back in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>John's emotions as he approached the head waiter rather resembled
+those with which years ago he had once walked up to a bull in a field,
+Pat having requested him to do so because she wanted to know if bulls
+in fields really are fierce or if the artists who depict them in
+comic papers are simply trying to be funny. He felt embarrassed and
+diffident. The head waiter was a large, stout, smooth-faced man who
+would have been better for a couple of weeks at Healthward Ho, and he
+gave the impression of having disliked John from the start.</p>
+
+<p>John said it was a nice evening. The head waiter did not seem to
+believe him.</p>
+
+<p>"Has—er—has Mr. Carmody booked a table?" asked John.</p>
+
+<p>"No, monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm meeting him here to-night."</p>
+
+<p>The head waiter appeared uninterested. He began to talk to an underling
+in rapid French. John, feeling more than ever an intruder, took
+advantage of a lull in the conversation to make another attempt.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder.... Perhaps.... Can you give me a table?"</p>
+
+<p>Most of the head waiter's eyes were concealed by the upper strata of
+his cheeks, but there was enough of them left visible to allow him to
+look at John as if he were something unpleasant that had come to light
+in a portion of salad.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur is a member?"</p>
+
+<p>"Er—no."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will please wait in the lobby, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I was wondering...."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will wait in the lobby, please," said the head waiter, and,
+dismissing John from the scheme of things, became gruesomely obsequious
+to an elderly man with diamond studs, no hair, an authoritative
+manner, and a lady in pink. He waddled before them into the supper
+room, and Pat reappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Got that table?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not. He says...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Johnnie, you are maddening. Why are you so helpless?"</p>
+
+<p>Women are unjust in these matters. When a man comes into a night club
+of which he is not a member and asks for a table he feels that he is
+butting in, and naturally is not at his best. This is not helplessness,
+it is fineness of soul. But women won't see that.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm awfully sorry."</p>
+
+<p>The head waiter had returned, and was either doing sums or drawing
+caricatures on a large pad chained to a desk. He seemed so much the
+artist absorbed in his work that John would not have dreamed of
+venturing to interrupt him. Pat had no such delicacy.</p>
+
+<p>"I want a table, please," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame is a member?"</p>
+
+<p>"A table, please. A nice, large one. I like plenty of room. And when
+Mr. Carmody arrives tell him that Miss Wyvern and Mr. Carroll are
+inside."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, madame. Certainly, madame. This way, madame."</p>
+
+<p>Just as simple as that! John, making a physically impressive but
+spiritually negligible tail to the procession, wondered, as he crossed
+the polished floor, how Pat did these things. It was not as if she
+were one of those massive, imperious women whom you would naturally
+expect to quell head waiters with a glance. She was no Cleopatra, no
+Catherine of Russia—just a slim, slight girl with a tip-tilted nose.
+And yet she had taken this formidable magnifico in her stride, kicked
+him lightly in the face, and passed on. He sat down, thrilled with a
+worshipping admiration.</p>
+
+<p>Pat, as always happened after one of her little spurts of irritability,
+was apologetic.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I bit your head off, Johnnie," she said. "It was a shame, after
+you had come all this way just to see an old friend. But it makes me so
+angry when you're meek and sheep-y and let people trample on you. Still
+I suppose it's not your fault." She smiled across at him. "You always
+were a slow, good-natured old thing, weren't you, like one of those big
+dogs that come and bump their head on your lap and snuffle. Poor old
+Johnnie!"</p>
+
+<p>John felt depressed. The picture she had conjured up was not a
+flattering one; and, as for this "Poor Old Johnnie!" stuff, it struck
+just the note he most wanted to avoid. If one thing is certain in the
+relations of the sexes, it is that the Poor Old Johnnies of this world
+get nowhere. But before he could put any of these feelings into words
+Pat had changed the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie," she said, "what's all this trouble between your uncle and
+Father? I had a letter from Father a couple of weeks ago, and as far as
+I could make out Mr. Carmody seems to have been trying to murder him.
+What's it all about?"</p>
+
+<p>Not so eloquently, nor with such a wealth of imagery as Colonel Wyvern
+had employed in sketching out the details of the affair of the dynamite
+outrage for the benefit of Chas. Bywater, Chemist, John answered the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"I—I hope...." said John.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I—I hope it's not going to make any difference?"</p>
+
+<p>"Difference? How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Between us. Between you and me, Pat."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of difference?"</p>
+
+<p>John had his cue.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat, darling, in all these years we've known one another haven't you
+ever guessed that I've been falling more and more in love with you
+every minute? I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. I loved
+you as a kid in short skirts and a blue jersey. I loved you when you
+came back from that school of yours, looking like a princess. And
+I love you now more than I have ever loved you. I worship you, Pat
+darling. You're the whole world to me, just the one thing that matters
+the least little bit. And don't you try to start laughing at me again
+now, because I've made up my mind that, whatever else you laugh at,
+you've got to take me seriously. I may have been Poor Old Johnnie in
+the past, but the time has come when you've got to forget all that. I
+mean business. You're going to marry me, and the sooner you make up
+your mind to it, the better."</p>
+
+<p>That was what John had intended to say. What he actually did say was
+something briefer and altogether less effective.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean you're afraid I'm going to stop being friends with you
+just because my father and your uncle have had a quarrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said John. It was not quite all he had meant, but it gave the
+general idea.</p>
+
+<p>"What a weird notion! After all these years? Good heavens, no. I'm much
+too fond of you, Johnnie."</p>
+
+<p>Once more John had his cue. And this time he was determined that he
+would not neglect it. He stiffened his courage. He cleared his throat.
+He clutched the tablecloth.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there's Hugo at last," she said, looking past him. "And about
+time. I'm starving. Hullo! Who are the people he's got with him? Do you
+know them?"</p>
+
+<p>John heaved a silent sigh. Yes, he could have counted on Hugo arriving
+at just this moment. He turned, and perceived that unnecessary young
+man crossing the floor. With him were a middle-aged man and a younger
+and extremely dashing-looking girl. They were complete strangers to
+John.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Hugo pranced buoyantly up to the table, looking like the Laughing
+Cavalier, clean-shaved.</p>
+
+<p>He was wearing the unmistakable air of a man who has been to a
+welter-weight boxing contest at the Albert Hall and backed the winner.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Pat," he said jovially. "Hullo, John. Sorry I'm late. Mitt—if
+that is the word I want—my dear old friend ... I've forgotten your
+name," he added, turning to his companion.</p>
+
+<p>"Molloy, brother. Thomas G. Molloy."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo's dear old friend spoke in a deep, rich voice, well in keeping
+with his appearance. He was a fine, handsome, open-faced person in the
+early forties, with grizzled hair that swept in a wave off a massive
+forehead. His nationality was plainly American, and his aspect vaguely
+senatorial.</p>
+
+<p>"Molloy," said Hugo, "Thomas G. and daughter. This is Miss Wyvern. And
+this is my cousin, Mr. Carroll. And now," said Hugo, relieved at having
+finished with the introductions, "let's try to get a bit of supper."</p>
+
+<p>The service at the Mustard Spoon is not what it was; but by the
+simple process of clutching at the coat tails of a passing waiter and
+holding him till he consented to talk business Hugo contrived to get
+fairly rapid action. Then, after an interval of the rather difficult
+conversation which usually marks the first stages of this sort of
+party, the orchestra burst into a sudden torrent of what it evidently
+mistook for music and Thomas G. Molloy rose and led Miss Molloy out on
+to the floor. He danced a little stiffly, but he knew how to give the
+elbow and he appeared, as the crowd engulfed him, to be holding his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are your friends, Hugo?" asked Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Thos. G...."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. But who are they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there," said Hugo, "you rather have me. I sat next to Thos. at
+the fight, and I rather took to the fellow. He seemed to me a man full
+of noble qualities, including a looney idea that Eustace Rodd was some
+good as a boxer. He actually offered to give me three to one, and I
+cleaned up substantially at the end of the seventh round. After that, I
+naturally couldn't very well get out of giving the man supper. And as
+he had promised to take his daughter out to-night, I said bring her
+along. You don't mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. Though it would have been cosier, just we three."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite true. But never forget that, if it had not been for this Thos.,
+you would not be getting the jolly good supper which I have now ample
+funds to supply. You may look on Thos. as practically the Founder of
+the Feast." He cast a wary eye at his cousin, who was leaning back in
+his chair with the abstracted look of one in deep thought. "Has old
+John said anything to you yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"John? What do you mean? What about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, things in general. Come and dance this. I want to have a very
+earnest word with you, young Pat. Big things are in the wind."</p>
+
+<p>"You're very mysterious."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Left alone at the table with nothing to entertain him but his
+thoughts, John came almost immediately to the conclusion that his
+first verdict on the Mustard Spoon had been an erroneous one. Looking
+at it superficially, he had mistaken it for rather an attractive
+place: but now, with maturer judgment, he saw it for what it was—a
+blot on a great city. It was places like the Mustard Spoon that made
+a man despair of progress. He disliked the clientèle. He disliked the
+head waiter. He disliked the orchestra. The clientèle was flashy and
+offensive and, as regarded the male element of it, far too given to the
+use of hair oil. The head waiter was a fat parasite who needed kicking.
+And, as for Ben Baermann's Collegiate Buddies, he resented the fact
+that they were being paid for making the sort of noises which he,
+when a small boy, had produced—for fun and with no thought of sordid
+gain—on a comb with a bit of tissue paper over it.</p>
+
+<p>He was brooding on the scene in much the same spirit of captious
+criticism as that in which Lot had once regarded the Cities of the
+Plain, when the Collegiate Buddies suddenly suspended their cacophony,
+and he saw Pat and Hugo coming back to the table.</p>
+
+<p>But the Buddies had only been crouching, the better to spring. A moment
+later they were at it again, and Pat, pausing, looked expectantly at
+Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I've just seen Ronnie Fish up in the balcony," he said. "I positively
+must go and confer with him. I have urgent matters to discuss with the
+old leper. Sit down and talk to John. You've got lots to talk about.
+See you anon. And, if there's anything you want, order it, paying no
+attention whatever to the prices in the right-hand column. Thanks to
+Thos., I'm made of money to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo melted away: Pat sat down: and John, with another abrupt change
+of mood, decided that he had misjudged the Mustard Spoon. A very
+jolly little place, when you looked at it in the proper spirit. Nice
+people, a distinctly lovable head waiter, and as attractive a lot of
+musicians as he remembered ever to have seen. He turned to Pat, to seek
+her confirmation of these views, and, meeting her gaze, experienced a
+rather severe shock. Her eyes seemed to have frozen over. They were
+cold and hard. Taken in conjunction with the fact that her nose turned
+up a little at the end, they gave her face a scornful and contemptuous
+look.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he said, alarmed. "What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you looking like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well...."</p>
+
+<p>John had little ability as a word painter. He could not on the spur of
+the moment give anything in the nature of detailed description of the
+way Pat was looking. He only knew he did not like it.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you expected me to look at you 'with eyes overrunning with
+laughter'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Archly the maiden smiled, and with eyes overrunning with laughter
+said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"'"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you're talking about."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know <i>The Courtship of Miles Standish</i>? I thought that
+must have been where you got the idea. I had to learn chunks of it at
+school, and even at that tender age I always thought Miles Standish a
+perfect goop. 'If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed
+me, Why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me? If I
+am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning.' And yards
+more of it. I knew it by heart once. Well, what I want to know is, do
+you expect my answer direct, or would you prefer that I communicated
+with your agent?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you? No? Really?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pat, what's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing much. When we were dancing just now, Hugo proposed to me."</p>
+
+<p>A cold hand clutched at John's heart. He had not a high opinion of his
+cousin's fascinations, but the thought of anybody but himself proposing
+to Pat was a revolting one.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, did he?'</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he did. For you."</p>
+
+<p>"For me? How do you mean, for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm telling you. He asked me to marry you. And very eloquent he was,
+too. All the people who heard him—and there must have been dozens who
+did—were much impressed."</p>
+
+<p>She stopped: and, as far as such a thing is possible at the Mustard
+Spoon when Baermann's Collegiate Buddies are giving an encore of "My
+Sweetie Is A Wow," there was silence. Emotion of one sort or another
+had deprived Pat of words: and, as for John, he was feeling as if he
+could never speak again.</p>
+
+<p>He had flushed a dusky red, and his collar had suddenly become so tight
+that he had all the sensations of a man who is being garrotted. And so
+powerfully had the shock of this fearful revelation affected his mind
+that his only coherent thought was a desire to follow Hugo up to the
+balcony, tear him limb from limb, and scatter the fragments onto the
+tables below.</p>
+
+<p>Pat was the first to find speech. She spoke quickly, stormily.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't understand you, Johnnie. You never used to be such a
+jellyfish. You did have a mind of your own once. But now ... I believe
+it's living at Rudge all the time that has done it. You've got lazy
+and flabby. It's turned you into a vegetable. You just loaf about and
+go on and on, year after year, having your three fat meals a day and
+your comfortable rooms and your hot-water bottle at night...."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't!" cried John, stung by this monstrous charge from the coma
+which was gripping him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, bed socks, then," amended Pat. "You've just let yourself be
+cosseted and pampered and kept in comfort till the You that used to be
+there has withered away and you've gone blah. My dear, good Johnnie,"
+said Pat vehemently, riding over his attempt at speech and glaring at
+him above a small, perky nose whose tip had begun to quiver even as it
+had always done when she lost her temper as a child. "My poor, idiotic,
+flabby, fat-headed Johnnie, do you seriously expect a girl to want to
+marry a man who hasn't the common, elementary pluck to propose to her
+for himself and has to get someone else to do it for him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"You did."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you I did not."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean you never asked Hugo to sound me out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. Hugo is a meddling, officious idiot, and if I'd got him
+here now, I'd wring his neck."</p>
+
+<p>He scowled up at the balcony. Hugo, who happened to be looking down at
+the moment, beamed encouragingly and waved a friendly hand as if to
+assure his cousin that he was with him in spirit. Silence, tempered
+by the low wailing of the Buddy in charge of the saxophone and the
+unpleasant howling of his college friends, who had just begun to sing
+the chorus, fell once more.</p>
+
+<p>"This opens up a new line of thought," said Pat at length. "Our Miss
+Wyvern appears to have got the wires crossed," she looked at him
+meditatively. "It's funny. Hugo seemed so convinced about the way you
+felt."</p>
+
+<p>John's collar tightened up another half inch, but he managed to get his
+vocal chords working.</p>
+
+<p>"He was quite right about the way I felt."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean.... Really?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean you're ... fond of me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Johnnie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Damn it, are you blind?" cried John, savage from shame and the agony
+of harrowed feelings, not to mention a collar which appeared to have
+been made for a man half his size. "Can't you see? Don't you know I've
+always loved you? Yes, even when you were a kid."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" Distress was making Pat's silver
+voice almost squeaky. "You can't have done. I was a horrible kid. I did
+nothing but bully you from morning till night."</p>
+
+<p>"I liked it."</p>
+
+<p>"But how can you want me to marry you? We know each other too well.
+I've always looked on you as a sort of brother."</p>
+
+<p>There are words in the language which are like a knell. Keats
+considered "forlorn" one of them. John Carroll was of opinion that
+"brother" was a second.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know. I was a fool. I knew you would simply laugh at me."</p>
+
+<p>Pat's eyes were misty. The tip of her nose no longer quivered, but now
+it was her mouth that did so. She reached out across the table and her
+hand rested on his for a brief instant.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not laughing at you, Johnnie, you—you chump. What would I want to
+laugh at you for? I'm much nearer crying. I'd do anything in the world
+rather than hurt you. You must know that. You're the dearest old thing
+that ever lived. There's no one on earth I'm fonder of." She paused.
+"But this ... it—it simply isn't on the board."</p>
+
+<p>She was looking at him, furtively, taking advantage of the fact
+that his face was turned away and his eyes fixed on the broad,
+swallow-tailed back of Mr. Ben Baermann. It was odd, she felt, all very
+odd. If she had been asked to describe the sort of man whom one of
+these days she hoped to marry, the description, curiously enough, would
+not have been at all unlike dear old Johnnie. He had the right clean,
+fit look—she knew she could never give a thought to anything but an
+outdoor man—and the straightness and honesty and kindliness which she
+had come, after moving for some years in a world where they were rare,
+to look upon as the highest of masculine qualities. Nobody could have
+been farther than John from the little, black-moustached dancing-man
+type which was her particular aversion, and yet ... well, the idea of
+becoming his wife was just simply too absurd and that was all there was
+to it.</p>
+
+<p>But why? What, then, was wrong with Johnnie? Simply, she felt, the
+fact that he was Johnnie. Marriage, as she had always envisaged it,
+was an adventure. Poor cosy, solid old Johnnie would have to display
+quite another side of himself, if such a side existed, before she could
+regard it as an adventure to marry him.</p>
+
+<p>"That man," said John, indicating Mr. Baermann, "looks like a Jewish
+black beetle."</p>
+
+<p>Pat was relieved. If by this remark he was indicating that he wished
+the recent episode to be taken as concluded, she was very willing to
+oblige him.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't he?" she said. "I don't know where they can have dug him up
+from. The last time I was here, a year ago, they had another band, a
+much better one. I think this place has gone down. I don't like the
+look of some of these people. What do you think of Hugo's friends?"</p>
+
+<p>"They seem all right." John cast a moody eye at Miss Molloy, a
+prismatic vision seen fitfully through the crowd. She was laughing, and
+showing in the process teeth of a flashing whiteness. "The girl's the
+prettiest girl I've seen for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>Pat gave an imperceptible start. She was suddenly aware of a feeling
+which was remarkably like uneasiness. It lurked at the back of her
+consciousness like a small formless cloud.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, the feeling was uneasiness. Any other man who at such a moment had
+said those words she would have suspected of a desire to pique her, to
+stir her interest by a rather obviously assumed admiration of another.
+But not John. He was much too honest. If Johnnie said a thing, he meant
+it.</p>
+
+<p>A quick flicker of concern passed through Pat. She was always candid
+with herself, and she knew quite well that, though she did not want
+to marry him, she regarded John as essentially a piece of personal
+property. If he had fallen in love with her, that was, of course, a
+pity: but it would, she realized, be considerably more of a pity if he
+ever fell in love with someone else. A Johnnie gone out of her life and
+assimilated into that of another girl would leave a frightful gap. The
+Mustard Spoon was one of those stuffy, overheated places, but, as she
+meditated upon this possibility, Pat shivered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>The music stopped. The floor emptied. Mr. Molloy and his daughter
+returned to the table. Hugo remained up in the gallery, in earnest
+conversation with his old friend, Mr. Fish.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>Ronald Overbury Fish was a pink-faced young man of small stature and
+extraordinary solemnity. He had been at school with Hugo and also at
+the university. Eton was entitled to point with pride at both of them,
+and only had itself to blame if it failed to do so. The same remark
+applies to Trinity College, Cambridge. From earliest days Hugo had
+always entertained for R. O. Fish an intense and lively admiration,
+and the thought of being compelled to let his old friend down in this
+matter of the Hot Spot was doing much to mar an otherwise jovial
+evening.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm most frightfully sorry, Ronnie, old thing," he said immediately
+the first greetings were over. "I sounded the aged relative this
+afternoon about that business, and there's nothing doing."</p>
+
+<p>"No hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"None."</p>
+
+<p>Ronnie Fish surveyed the dancers below with a grave eye. He removed the
+stub of his cigarette from its eleven-inch holder, and recharged that
+impressive instrument.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you reason with the old pest?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can't reason with my uncle Lester."</p>
+
+<p>"I could," said Mr. Fish.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo did not doubt this. Ronnie, in his opinion, was capable of any
+feat.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but the only trouble is," he explained, "you would have to do it
+at long range. I asked if I might invite you down to Rudge and he would
+have none of it."</p>
+
+<p>Ronnie Fish relapsed into silence. It seemed to Hugo, watching him,
+that that great brain was busy, but upon what train of thought he could
+not conjecture.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are those people you're with?" he asked at length.</p>
+
+<p>"The big chap with the fair hair is my cousin John. The girl in green
+is Pat Wyvern. She lives near us."</p>
+
+<p>"And the others? Who's the stately looking bird with the brushed-back
+hair who has every appearance of being just about to address a
+gathering of constituents on some important point of policy?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's a fellow named Molloy. Thos. G. I met him at the fight. He's an
+American."</p>
+
+<p>"He looks prosperous."</p>
+
+<p>"He is not so prosperous, though, as he was before the fight started. I
+took thirty quid off him."</p>
+
+<p>"Your uncle, from what you have told me, is pretty keen on rich men,
+isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"All over them."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the thing's simple," said Ronnie Fish. "Invite this Mulcahy or
+whatever his name is to Rudge, and invite me at the same time. You'll
+find that in the ecstasy of getting a millionaire on the premises your
+uncle will forget to make a fuss about my coming. And once I am in I
+can talk this business over with him. I'll guarantee that if I can get
+an uninterrupted half hour with the old boy I can easily make him see
+the light."</p>
+
+<p>A rush of admiration for his friend's outstanding brain held Hugo
+silent for a moment. The bold simplicity of the move thrilled him.</p>
+
+<p>"What it amounts to," continued Ronnie Fish, "is that your uncle is
+endeavouring to do you out of a vast fortune. I tell you, the Hot Spot
+is going to be a gold mine. To all practical intents and purposes he is
+just as good as trying to take thousands of pounds out of your pocket.
+I shall point this out to him, and I shall be surprised if I can't put
+the thing through. When would you like me to come down?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ronnie," said Hugo, "this is absolute genius." He hesitated. He
+had no wish to discourage his friend, but he desired to be fair and
+above-board. "There's just one thing. Would you have any objection to
+performing at the village concert?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>"They're sure to rope you in. I thought you and I might do the Quarrel
+Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i> again."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent."</p>
+
+<p>"And this time," said Hugo generously, "you can be Brutus."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Ronnie, moved.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Then fix things up with this American bloke, and leave the
+rest to me. Shall I like your uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Hugo confidently.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah well," said Mr. Fish equably, "I don't for a moment suppose he'll
+like me."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>The respite afforded to their patrons' ear drums by the sudden
+cessation of activity on the part of the Buddies proved of brief
+duration. Men like these ex-collegians, who have really got the
+saxophone virus into their systems, seldom have long lucid intervals
+between the attacks. Very soon they were at it again, and Mr. Molloy,
+rising, led Pat gallantly out onto the floor. His daughter, following
+them with a bright eye as she busied herself with a lip stick, laughed
+amusedly.</p>
+
+<p>"She little knows!"</p>
+
+<p>John, like Pat a short while before, had fallen into a train of
+thought. From this he now woke with a start to the realization that he
+was alone with this girl and presumably expected by her to make some
+effort at being entertaining.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Even had he been less preoccupied, he would have found small pleasure
+in this tête-à-tête. Miss Molloy—her father addressed her as
+Dolly—belonged to the type of girl in whose society a diffident man
+is seldom completely at ease. There hung about her like an aura a sort
+of hard glitter. Her challenging eyes were of a bright hazel—beautiful
+but intimidating. She looked supremely sure of herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I was saying," she explained, "that your Girl Friend little knows what
+she has taken on, going out to step with Soapy."</p>
+
+<p>"Soapy?"</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to John that his companion had momentarily the appearance of
+being a little confused.</p>
+
+<p>"My father, I mean," she said quickly. "I call him Soapy."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said John. He supposed the practice of calling a father by a
+nickname in preference to the more old-fashioned style of address was
+the latest fad of the Modern Girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Soapy," said Miss Molloy, developing her theme, "is full of Sex
+Appeal, but he has two left feet." She emitted another little gurgle of
+laughter. "There! Would you just look at him now!"</p>
+
+<p>John was sorry to appear dull, but, eyeing Mr. Molloy as requested, he
+could not see that he was doing anything wrong. On the contrary, for
+one past his first youth, the man seemed to him enviably efficient.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I don't know anything about dancing," he said
+apologetically.</p>
+
+<p>"At that, you're ahead of Soapy. He doesn't even suspect anything.
+Whenever I get into the ring with him and come out alive I reckon I've
+broke even. It isn't so much his dancing on my feet that I mind—it's
+the way he jumps on and off that slays me. Don't you ever hoof?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Sometimes. A little."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come and do your stuff, then. I can't sit still while they're
+playing that thing."</p>
+
+<p>John rose reluctantly. Their brief conversation had made it clear to
+him that in the matter of dancing this was a girl of high ideals, and
+he feared he was about to disappoint her. If she regarded with derision
+a quite adequate performer like Mr. Molloy, she was obviously no
+partner for himself. But there was no means of avoiding the ordeal. He
+backed her out into mid-stream, hoping for the best.</p>
+
+<p>Providence was in a kindly mood. By now the floor had become so
+congested that skill was at a discount. Even the sallow youths with
+the marcelled hair and the india-rubber legs were finding little scope
+to do anything but shuffle. This suited John's individual style. He,
+too, shuffled: and, playing for safety, found that he was getting along
+better than he could have expected. His tension relaxed, and he became
+conversational.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you often come to this place?" he asked, resting his partner
+against the slim back of one of the marcelled-hair brigade who, like
+himself, had been held up in the traffic block.</p>
+
+<p>"I've never been here before. And it'll be a long time before I come
+again. A more gosh-awful aggregation of yells for help, than this gang
+of whippets," said Miss Molloy, surveying the company with a critical
+eye, "I've never seen. Look at that dame with the eyeglass."</p>
+
+<p>"Rather weird," agreed John.</p>
+
+<p>"A cry for succour," said Miss Molloy severely. "And why, when you can
+buy insecticide at any drug store, people let these boys with the shiny
+hair go around loose beats me."</p>
+
+<p>John began to warm to this girl. At first, he had feared that he and
+she could have little in common. But this remark told him that on
+certain subjects, at any rate, they saw eye to eye. He, too, had felt
+an idle wonder that somebody did not do something about these youths.</p>
+
+<p>The Buddies had stopped playing: and John, glowing with the strange
+new spirit of confidence which had come to him, clapped loudly for an
+encore.</p>
+
+<p>But the Buddies were not responsive. Hitherto, a mere tapping of the
+palms had been enough to urge them to renewed epileptic spasms; but now
+an odd lethargy seemed to be upon them, as if they had been taking some
+kind of treatment for their complaint. They were sitting, instruments
+in hand, gazing in a spellbound manner at a square-jawed person in
+ill-fitting dress clothes who had appeared at the side of Mr. Baermann.
+And the next moment, there shattered the stillness a sudden voice that
+breathed Vine Street in every syllable.</p>
+
+<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice, proceeding, as nearly as John
+could ascertain, from close to the main entrance, "will you kindly take
+your seats."</p>
+
+<p>"Pinched!" breathed Miss Molloy in his ear. "Couldn't you have betted
+on it!"</p>
+
+<p>Her diagnosis was plainly correct. In response to the request, most of
+those on the floor had returned to their tables, moving with the dull
+resignation of people to whom this sort of thing has happened before:
+and, enjoying now a wider range of vision, John was able to see that
+the room had become magically filled with replicas of the sturdy figure
+standing beside Mr. Baermann. They were moving about among the tables,
+examining with an offensive interest the bottles that stood thereon and
+jotting down epigrams on the subject in little notebooks. Time flies
+on swift wings in a haunt of pleasure like the Mustard Spoon, and it
+was evident that the management, having forgotten to look at its watch,
+had committed the amiable error of serving alcoholic refreshments after
+prohibited hours.</p>
+
+<p>"I might have known," said Miss Molloy querulously, "that something of
+the sort was bound to break loose in a dump like this."</p>
+
+<p>John, like all dwellers in the country as opposed to the wicked
+inhabitants of cities, was a law-abiding man. Left to himself, he would
+have followed the crowd and made for his table, there to give his name
+and address in the sheepish undertone customary on these occasions. But
+he was not left to himself. A moment later it had become plain that the
+dashing exterior of Miss Molloy was a true index to the soul within.
+She grasped his arm and pulled him commandingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Snap into it!" said Miss Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>The "it" into which she desired him to snap was apparently a small
+door that led to the club's service quarters. It was the one strategic
+point not yet guarded by a stocky figure with large feet and an eye
+like a gimlet. To it his companion went like a homing rabbit, dragging
+him with her. They passed through; and John, with a resourcefulness of
+which he was surprised to find himself capable, turned the key in the
+lock.</p>
+
+<p>"Smooth!" said Miss Molloy approvingly. "Nice work! That'll hold them
+for a while."</p>
+
+<p>It did. From the other side of the door there proceeded a confused
+shouting, and somebody twisted the handle with a good deal of
+petulance, but the Law had apparently forgotten to bring its axe with
+it to-night, and nothing further occurred. They made their way down a
+stuffy passage, came presently to a second door, and, passing through
+this, found themselves in a backyard, fragrant with the scent of old
+cabbage stalks and dish water.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Molloy listened. John listened. They could hear nothing but a
+distant squealing and tooting of horns, which, though it sounded like
+something out of the repertoire of the Collegiate Buddies, was in
+reality the noise of the traffic in Regent Street.</p>
+
+<p>"All quiet along the Potomac," said Miss Molloy with satisfaction.
+"Now," she added briskly, "if you'll just fetch one of those ash cans
+and put it alongside that wall and give me a leg-up and help me round
+that chimney and across that roof and down into the next yard and over
+another wall or two, I think everything will be more or less jake."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">V</p>
+
+<p>John sat in the lobby of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street. A lifetime
+of activity and dizzy hustle had passed, but it had all been crammed
+into just under twenty minutes, and, after seeing his fair companion
+off in a taxicab, he had made his way to the Lincoln, to ascertain from
+a sleepy night porter that Miss Wyvern had not yet returned. He was now
+awaiting her coming.</p>
+
+<p>She came some little while later, escorted by Hugo. It was a fair
+summer night, warm and still, but with her arrival a keen east wind
+seemed to pervade the lobby. Pat was looking pale and proud, and Hugo's
+usually effervescent demeanour had become toned down to a sort of
+mellow sadness. He had the appearance of a man who has recently been
+properly ticked off by a woman for Taking Me to Places Like That.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hullo, John," he murmured in a low, bedside voice. He brightened
+a little, as a man will who, after a bad quarter of an hour with an
+emotional girl, sees somebody who may possibly furnish an alternative
+target for her wrath. "Where did you get to? Left early to avoid the
+rush?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was this way ..." began John. But Pat had turned to the desk, and
+was asking the porter for her key. If a female martyr in the rougher
+days of the Roman Empire had had occasion to ask for a key, she would
+have done it in just the voice which Pat employed. It was not a loud
+voice, nor an angry one,—just the crushed, tortured voice of a girl
+who has lost her faith in the essential goodness of humanity.</p>
+
+<p>"You see ..." said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Are there any letters for me?" asked Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no letters," said the night porter; and the unhappy girl gave a
+little sigh, as if that was just what might be expected in a world
+where men who had known you all your life took you to Places which
+they ought to have Seen from the start were just Drinking-Hells, while
+other men, who also had known you all your life, and, what was more,
+professed to love you, skipped through doors in the company of flashy
+women and left you to be treated by the police as if you were a common
+criminal.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened," said John, "was this...."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>She followed the porter to the lift, and Hugo, producing a
+handkerchief, dabbed it lightly over his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Dirty weather, shipmate!" said Hugo. "A very deep depression off the
+coast of Iceland, laddie."</p>
+
+<p>He placed a restraining hand on John's arm, as the latter made a
+movement to follow the Snow Queen.</p>
+
+<p>"No good, John," he said gravely. "No good, old man, not the slightest.
+Don't waste your time trying to explain to-night. Hell hath no fury
+like a woman scorned, and not many like a girl who's just had to give
+her name and address in a raided night club to a plain-clothes cop who
+asked her to repeat it twice and then didn't seem to believe her."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want to tell her why...."</p>
+
+<p>"Never tell them why. It's no use. Let us talk of pleasanter things.
+John, I have brought off the coup of a lifetime. Not that it was my
+idea. It was Ronnie Fish who suggested it. There's a fellow with a
+brain, John. There's a lad who busts the seams of any hat that isn't a
+number eight."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you talking about?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm talking about this amazingly intelligent idea of old Ronnie's.
+It's absolutely necessary that by some means Uncle Lester shall be
+persuaded to cough up five hundred quid of my capital to enable me to
+go into a venture second in solidity only to the Mint. The one person
+who can talk him into it is Ronnie. So Ronnie's coming to Rudge."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said John, uninterested.</p>
+
+<p>"And to prevent Uncle Lester making a fuss about this, I've invited old
+man Molloy and daughter to come and visit us as well. That was Ronnie's
+big idea. Thos. is rolling in money, and, once Uncle Lester learns
+that, he won't kick about Ronnie being there. He loves having rich men
+around. He likes to nuzzle them."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean," cried John, "that that girl is coming to stay at Rudge?"</p>
+
+<p>He was appalled. Limpidly clear though his conscience was, he was able
+to see that his rather spectacular association with Miss Dolly Molloy
+had displeased Pat, and the last thing he wished for was to be placed
+in a position which was virtually tantamount to hobnobbing with the
+girl. If she came to stay at Rudge, Pat might think.... What might not
+Pat think?</p>
+
+<p>He became aware that Hugo was speaking to him in a quiet, brotherly
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"How did all that come out, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"All what?"</p>
+
+<p>"About Pat. Did she tell you that I paved the way?"</p>
+
+<p>"She did! And look here...."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, old man," said Hugo, raising a deprecatory hand. "That's
+absolutely all right. I don't want any thanks. You'd have done the same
+for me. Well, what has happened? Everything pretty satisfactory?"</p>
+
+<p>"Satisfactory!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell me she turned you down?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you really want to know, yes, she did."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I feared as much. There was something about her manner when I was
+paving the way that I didn't quite like. Cold. Not responsive. A
+bit glassy-eyed. What an amazing thing it is," said Hugo, tapping a
+philosophical vein, "that in spite of all the ways there are of saying
+Yes, a girl on an occasion like this nearly always says No. An American
+statistician has estimated that, omitting substitutes like 'All right,'
+'You bet,' 'O.K.,' and nasal expressions like 'Uh-huh,' the English
+language provides nearly fifty different methods of replying in the
+affirmative, including Yeah, Yeth, Yum, Yo, Yaw, Chess, Chass, Chuss,
+Yip, Yep, Yop, Yup, Yurp...."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop it!" cried John forcefully.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo patted him affectionately on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, John. All right, old man. I quite understand. You're upset.
+A little on edge, yes? Of course you are. But listen, John, I want to
+talk to you very seriously for a moment, in a broad-minded spirit of
+cousinly good will. If I were you, laddie, I would take myself firmly
+in hand at this juncture. You must see for yourself by now that you're
+simply wasting your time fooling about after dear old Pat. A sweet
+girl, I grant you—one of the best: but if she won't have you she
+won't, and that's that. Isn't it or is it? Take my tip and wash the
+whole thing out and start looking round for someone else. Now, there's
+Miss Molloy, for instance. Pretty. Pots of money. If I were you, while
+she's at Rudge, I'd have a decided pop at her. You see, you're one of
+those fellows that Nature intended for a married man right from the
+start. You're a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap that likes
+to roll the garden lawn and then put on his slippers and light a pipe
+and sit side by side with the little woman, sharing a twin set of head
+phones. Pull up your socks, John, and have a dash at this Molloy girl.
+You'd be on velvet with a rich wife."</p>
+
+<p>At several points during this harangue John had endeavoured to speak,
+and he was just about to do so now, when there occurred that which
+rendered speech impossible. From immediately behind them, as they stood
+facing the door, a voice spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I want my bag, Hugo."</p>
+
+<p>It was Pat. She was standing within a yard of them. Her face was still
+that of a martyr, but now she seemed to suggest by her expression a
+martyr whose tormentors have suddenly thought up something new.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got my bag," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ah," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>He handed over the beaded trifle, and she took it with a cold
+aloofness. There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, good night," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Good night," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Good night," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>She turned away, and the lift bore her aloft. Its machinery badly
+needed a drop of oil, and it emitted, as it went, a low wailing sound
+that seemed to John like a commentary on the whole situation.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">VI</p>
+
+<p>Some half a mile from Curzon Street, on the fringe of the Soho
+district, there stands a smaller and humbler hotel named the Belvidere.
+In a bedroom on the second floor of this, at about the moment when Pat
+and Hugo had entered the lobby of the Lincoln, Dolly Molloy sat before
+a mirror, cold-creaming her attractive face. She was interrupted in
+this task by the arrival of the senatorial Thomas G.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, sweetie-pie," said Miss Molloy. "There you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Mr. Molloy. "Here I am."</p>
+
+<p>Although his demeanour lacked the high tragedy which had made strong
+men quail in the presence of Pat Wyvern, this man was plainly ruffled.
+His fine features were overcast and his frank gray eyes looked sombre.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee! If there's one thing in this world I hate," he said, "it's having
+to talk to policemen."</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I gave my name and address. <i>A</i> name and address, that is to say.
+But I haven't got over yet the jar it gave me seeing so many cops all
+gathered together in a small room. And that's not all," went on Mr.
+Molloy, ventilating another grievance. "Why did you make me tell those
+folks you were my daughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sweetie, it sort of cramps my style, having people know we're
+married."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, cramps your style?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just cramps my style."</p>
+
+<p>"But, darn it," complained Mr. Molloy, going to the heart of the
+matter, "it makes me out so old, folks thinking I'm your father." The
+rather pronounced gap in years between himself and his young bride was
+a subject on which Soapy Molloy was always inclined to be sensitive.
+"I'm only forty-two."</p>
+
+<p>"And you don't seem that, not till you look at you close," said Dolly
+with womanly tact. "The whole thing is, sweetie, being so dignified,
+you can call yourself anybody's father and get away with it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy, somewhat soothed, examined himself, not without approval,
+in the mirror.</p>
+
+<p>"I do look dignified," he admitted.</p>
+
+<p>"Like a professor or something."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't a bald spot coming there, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure it's not. It's just the way the light falls."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy resumed his examination with growing content.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said complacently, "that's a face which for business purposes
+is a face. I may not be the World's Sweetheart, but nobody can say I
+haven't got a map that inspires confidence. I suppose I've sold more
+bum oil stock to suckers with it than anyone in the profession. And
+that reminds me, honey, what do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" asked Mrs. Molloy, removing cream with a towel.</p>
+
+<p>"We're sitting in the biggest kind of luck. You know how I've been
+wanting all this time to get hold of a really good prospect—some guy
+with money to spend who might be interested in a little oil deal?
+Well, that Carmody fellow we met to-night has invited us to go and
+visit at his country home."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say!"</p>
+
+<p>"I do say!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't that the greatest thing. Is he rich?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's got an uncle that must be, or he couldn't be living in a place
+like he was telling me. It's one of those stately homes of England you
+read about."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Molloy mused. The soft smile on her face showed that her day
+dreams were pleasant ones.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to get me some new frocks ... and hats ... and shoes ... and
+stockings ... and ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, now, now!" said her husband, with that anxious alarm which
+husbands exhibit on these occasions. "Be yourself, baby! You aren't
+going to stay at Buckingham Palace."</p>
+
+<p>"But a country-house party with swell people...."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a country-house party. There's only the uncle besides those
+two boys we met to-night. But I'll tell you what. If I can plant a good
+block of those Silver River shares on the old man, you can go shopping
+all you want."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Soapy! Do you think you can?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I think I can?" echoed Mr. Molloy scornfully. "I don't say I've
+ever sold Central Park or Brooklyn Bridge to anybody, but if I can't
+get rid of a parcel of home-made oil stock to a guy that lives in the
+country I'm losing my grip and ought to retire. Sure, I'll sell him
+those Silver Rivers, honey. These fellows that own these big estates in
+England are only glorified farmers when you come right down to it, and
+a farmer will buy anything you offer him, just so long as it's nicely
+engraved and shines when you slant the light on it."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Soapy...."</p>
+
+<p>"Now what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been thinking. Listen, Soapy. A home like this one where we're
+going is sure to have all sorts of things in it, isn't it? Pictures, I
+mean, and silver and antiques and all like that. Well, why can't we,
+once we're in the place, get away with them and make a nice clean-up?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy, though conceding that this was the right spirit, was
+obliged to discourage his wife's pretty enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"Where could you sell that sort of stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>"Anywhere, once you got it over to the other side. New York's full of
+rich millionaires who'll buy anything and ask no questions, just so
+long as it's antiques."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Too dangerous, baby. If all that stuff left the house same time as we
+did, we'd have the bulls after us in ten minutes. Besides, it's not in
+my line. I've got my line, and I like to stick to it. Nobody ever got
+anywhere in the long run by going outside of his line."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe you're right."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I'm right. A nice conservative business, that's what I aim at."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose when we get to this joint it looks dead easy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Well then, I'm not saying. All I'm against is risks. If
+something's handed to you on a plate, naturally no one wouldn't ever
+want to let it get past them."</p>
+
+<p>And with this eminently sound commercial maxim Mr. Molloy reached for
+his pyjamas and prepared for bed. Something attempted, something done,
+had earned, he felt, a night's repose.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>Some years before the date of the events narrated in this story, at
+the time when there was all that trouble between the aristocratic
+householders of Riverside Row and the humbler dwellers in Budd Street
+(arising, if you remember, from the practice of the latter of washing
+their more intimate articles of underclothing and hanging them to dry
+in back gardens into which their exclusive neighbours were compelled to
+gaze every time they looked out of windows), the vicar of the parish,
+the Rev. Alistair Pond-Pond, always a happy phrase-maker, wound up his
+address at the annual village sports of Rudge with an impressive appeal
+to the good feeling of those concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"We must not," said the Reverend Alistair, "consider ourselves as
+belonging to this section of Rudge-in-the-Vale or to that section of
+Rudge-in-the-Vale. Let us get together. Let us recollect that we are
+all fellow-members of one united community. Rudge must be looked on as
+a whole. And what a whole it is!"</p>
+
+<p>With the concluding words of this peroration Pat Wyvern, by the time
+she had been home a little under a week, found herself in hearty
+agreement. Walking with her father along High Street on the sixth
+morning, she had to confess herself disappointed with Rudge.</p>
+
+<p>There are times in everyone's experience when Life, after running
+merrily for a while through pleasant places, seems suddenly to strike
+a dull and depressing patch of road: and this was what was happening
+now to Pat. The sense, which had come to her so strongly in the lobby
+of the Lincoln Hotel in Curzon Street, of being in a world unworthy
+of her—a world cold and unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade
+of human being, had deepened. Her home-coming, she had now definitely
+decided, was not a success.</p>
+
+<p>Elderly men with a grievance are seldom entertaining companions for
+the young, and five days of the undiluted society of Colonel Wyvern
+had left Pat with the feeling that, much as she loved her father, she
+wished he would sometimes change the subject of his conversation. Had
+she been present in person she could not have had a fuller grasp of the
+facts of that dynamite outrage than she now possessed.</p>
+
+<p>But this was not all. After Mr. Carmody's thug-like behaviour on that
+fatal day, she was given to understand, the Hall and its grounds were
+as much forbidden territory to her as the piazza of the townhouse of
+the Capulets would have been to a young Montague. And, though, being a
+modern girl, she did not as a rule respond with any great alacrity to
+parental mandates, she had her share of clan loyalty and realized that
+she must conform to the rules of the game.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly she had not been within half a mile of the Hall since her
+arrival, and, having been accustomed for fourteen years to treat the
+place and its grounds as her private property, found Rudge, with a
+deadline drawn across the boundaries of Mr. Carmody's park, a poor sort
+of place. Unlovable character though Mr. Carmody was in many respects,
+she had always been fond of him, and she missed seeing him. She also
+missed seeing Hugo. And, as for John, not seeing him was the heaviest
+blow of all.</p>
+
+<p>From the days of her childhood, John had always been her stand-by.
+Men might come and men might go, but John went on for ever. He had
+never been too old, like Mr. Carmody, or too lazy, like Hugo, to give
+her all the time and attention she required, and she did think that,
+even though there was this absurd feud going on, he might have had
+the enterprise to make an opportunity of meeting her. As day followed
+day her resentment grew, until now she had reached the stage when she
+was telling herself that this was simply what from a knowledge of
+his character she might have expected. John—she had to face it—was
+a jellyfish. And if a man is a jellyfish, he will behave like a
+jellyfish, and it is at times of crisis that his jellyfishiness will be
+most noticeable.</p>
+
+<p>It was conscience that had brought Pat to the High Street this morning.
+Her father had welcomed her with such a pathetic eagerness, and had
+been so plainly pleased to see her back that she was ashamed of herself
+for not feeling happier. And it was in a spirit of remorse that now,
+though she would have preferred to stay in the garden with a book, she
+had come with him to watch him buy another bottle of Brophy's Paramount
+Elixir from Chas. Bywater, Chemist.</p>
+
+<p>Brophy, it should be mentioned, had proved a sensational success. His
+Elixir was making the local gnats feel perfect fools. They would bite
+Colonel Wyvern on the face and stand back, all ready to laugh, and he
+would just smear Brophy on himself and be as good as new. It was simply
+sickening, if you were a gnat; but fine, of course, if you were Colonel
+Wyvern, and that just man, always ready to give praise where praise was
+due, said as much to Chas. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>"That stuff," said Colonel Wyvern, "is good. I wish I'd heard of it
+before. Give me another bottle."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bywater was delighted—not merely at this rush of trade, but
+because, good kindly soul, he enjoyed ameliorating the lot of others.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you would find it capital, Colonel. I get a great many
+requests for it. I sold a bottle yesterday to Mr. Carmody, senior."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern's sunniness vanished as if someone had turned it off
+with a tap.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk to me about Mr. Carmody," he said gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Chas. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>Pat bridged a painful silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Carmody back, then?" she asked. "I heard he was at some sort of
+health place."</p>
+
+<p>"Healthward Ho, miss, just outside Lowick."</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to be in prison," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bywater stopped himself in the nick of time from saying "Quite,"
+which would have been a deviation from his firm policy of never taking
+sides between customers.</p>
+
+<p>"He returned the day before yesterday, miss, and was immediately bitten
+on the nose by a mosquito."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God!" said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>"But I sold him one of the three-and-sixpenny size of the Elixir,"
+said Chas. Bywater, with quiet pride, "and a single application
+completely eased the pain."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern said he was sorry to hear it, and there is no doubt that
+conversation would once more have become difficult had there not at
+this moment made itself heard from the other side of the door a loud
+and penetrating sniff.</p>
+
+<p>A fatherly smile lit up Chas. Bywater's face.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Mr. John's dog," he said, reaching for the cough drops.</p>
+
+<p>Pat opened the door and the statement was proved correct. With a short
+wooffle, partly of annoyance at having been kept waiting and partly of
+happy anticipation, Emily entered, and seating herself by the counter,
+gazed expectantly at the chemist.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Emily," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>Emily gave her a brief look in which there was no pleased recognition,
+but only the annoyance of a dog interrupted during an important
+conference. She then returned her gaze to Mr. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say, doggie?" said Mr. Bywater, more paternal than ever,
+poising a cough drop.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Hell! Snap into it!" replied Emily curtly, impatient at this
+foolery.</p>
+
+<p>"Hear her speak for it?" said Mr. Bywater. "Almost human, that dog is."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern, whom he had addressed, did not seem to share his lively
+satisfaction. He muttered to himself. He regarded Emily sourly, and his
+right foot twitched a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Just like a human being, isn't she, miss?" said Chas. Bywater, damped
+but persevering.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Pat absently.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bywater, startled by this infringement of copyright, dropped the
+cough lozenge and Emily snapped it up.</p>
+
+<p>Pat, still distraite, was watching the door. She was surprised to find
+that her breath was coming rather quickly and that her heart had begun
+to beat with more than its usual rapidity. She was amazed at herself.
+Just because John Carroll would shortly appear in that doorway must
+she stand fluttering, for all the world as though poor old Johnnie, an
+admitted jellyfish, were something that really mattered? It was too
+silly, and she tried to bully herself into composure. She failed. Her
+heart, she was compelled to realize, was now simply racing.</p>
+
+<p>A step sounded outside, a shadow fell on the sunlit pavement, and Dolly
+Molloy walked into the shop.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>It is curious, when one reflects, to think how many different
+impressions a single individual can make simultaneously on a number
+of his or her fellow-creatures. At the present moment it was almost
+as though four separate and distinct Dolly Molloys had entered the
+establishment of Chas. Bywater.</p>
+
+<p>The Dolly whom Colonel Wyvern beheld was a beautiful woman with just
+that hint of diablerie in her bearing which makes elderly widowers feel
+that there is life in the old dog yet. Colonel Wyvern was no longer
+the dashing Hussar who in the 'nineties had made his presence felt in
+many a dim sitting-out place and in many a punt beneath the willows
+of the Thames, but there still lingered in him a trace of the old
+barrack-room fire. Drawing himself up, he automatically twirled his
+moustache. To Colonel Wyvern Dolly represented Beauty.</p>
+
+<p>To Chas. Bywater, with his more practical and worldly outlook, she
+represented Wealth. He saw in Dolly not so much a beautiful woman
+as a rich-looking woman. Although Soapy had contrived, with subtle
+reasoning, to head her off from the extensive purchases which she
+had contemplated making in preparation for her visit to Rudge, Dolly
+undoubtedly took the eye. She was, as she would have put it herself, a
+snappy dresser, and in Chas. Bywater's mind she awoke roseate visions
+of large orders for face creams, imported scents and expensive bath
+salts.</p>
+
+<p>Emily, it was evident, regarded Mrs. Molloy as Perfection. A dog who,
+as a rule, kept herself to herself and looked on the world with a cool
+and rather sardonic eye, she had conceived for Dolly the moment they
+met one of those capricious adorations which come occasionally to the
+most hard-boiled Welsh terriers. Hastily swallowing her cough drop, she
+bounded at Dolly and fawned on her.</p>
+
+<p>So far, the reactions caused by the newcomer's entrance have been
+unmixedly favourable. It is only when we come to Pat that we find
+Disapproval rearing its ugly head.</p>
+
+<p>"Disapproval," indeed, is a mild and inadequate word. "Loathing" would
+be more correct. Where Colonel Wyvern beheld beauty and Mr. Bywater
+opulence, Pat saw only flashiness, vulgarity, and general horribleness.
+Piercing with woman's intuitive eye through an outer crust which to
+vapid and irreflective males might possibly seem attractive, she saw
+Dolly as a vampire and a menace—the sort of woman who goes about
+the place ensnaring miserable fat-headed innocent young men who have
+lived all their lives in the country and so lack the experience to see
+through females of her type.</p>
+
+<p>For beyond a question, felt Pat, this girl must have come to Rudge in
+brazen pursuit of poor old Johnnie. The fact that she took her walks
+abroad accompanied by Emily showed that she was staying at the Hall;
+and what reason could she have had for getting herself invited to the
+Hall if not that she wished to continue the acquaintance begun at the
+Mustard Spoon? This, then, was the explanation of John's failure to
+come and pass the time of day with an old friend. What she had assumed
+to be jellyfishiness was in reality base treachery. Like Emily, whom,
+slavering over Mrs. Molloy's shoes, she could gladly have kicked, he
+had been hypnotized by this woman's specious glamour and had forsaken
+old allegiances.</p>
+
+<p>Pat, eyeing Dolly coldly, was filled with a sisterly desire to save
+John from one who could never make him happy.</p>
+
+<p>Dolly was all friendliness.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, hello," she said, removing a shapely foot from Emily's mouth, "I
+was wondering when I was going to run into you. I heard you lived in
+these parts."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" said Pat frigidly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm staying at the Hall."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"What a wonderful old place it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"All those pictures and tapestries and things."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this your father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. This is Miss Molloy, Father. We met in London."</p>
+
+<p>"Pleased to meet you," said Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Charmed," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>He gave another twirl of his moustache. Chas. Bywater hovered
+beamingly. Emily, still ecstatic, continued to gnaw one of Dolly's
+shoes. The whole spectacle was so utterly revolting that Pat turned to
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be going along, Father," she said. "I want to buy some stamps."</p>
+
+<p>"I can sell you stamps, miss," said Chas. Bywater affably.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, I will go to the post office," said Pat. Her manner
+suggested that you got a superior brand of stamps there. She walked
+out. Rudge, as she looked upon it, seemed a more depressing place than
+ever. Sunshine flooded the High Street. Sunshine fell on the Carmody
+Arms, the Village Hall, the Plough and Chickens, the Bunch of Grapes,
+the Waggoner's Rest and the Jubilee Watering Trough. But there was no
+sunshine in the heart of Pat Wyvern.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>And, curiously enough, at this very moment up at the Hall the same
+experience was happening to Mr. Lester Carmody. Staring out of his
+study window, he gazed upon a world bathed in a golden glow: but his
+heart was cold and heavy. He had just had a visit from the Rev.
+Alistair Pond-Pond, and the Reverend Alistair had touched him for five
+shillings.</p>
+
+<p>Many men in Mr. Carmody's place would have considered that they had got
+off lightly. The vicar had come seeking subscriptions to the Church
+Organ Fund, the Mothers' Pleasant Sunday Evenings, the Distressed
+Cottagers' Aid Society, the Stipend of the Additional Curate and
+the Rudge Lads' Annual Summer Outing, and there had been moments of
+mad optimism when he had hoped for as much as a ten-pound note. The
+actual bag, as he totted it up while riding pensively away on his
+motor-bicycle, was the above-mentioned five shillings and a promise
+that the squire's nephew Hugo and his friend Mr. Fish should perform at
+the village concert next week.</p>
+
+<p>And even so, Mr. Carmody was looking on him as a robber. Five shillings
+had gone—just like that—and every moment now he was expecting his
+nephew John to walk in and increase his expenditure. For just after
+breakfast John had asked if he could have a word with him later on in
+the morning, and Mr. Carmody knew what that meant.</p>
+
+<p>John ran the Hall's dairy farm, and he was always coming to Mr.
+Carmody for money to buy exotic machinery which could not, the latter
+considered, be really necessary. To Mr. Carmody a dairy farm was a
+straight issue between man and cow. You backed the cow up against a
+wall, secured its milk, and there you were. John always seemed to want
+to make the thing so complicated and difficult, and only the fact that
+he also made it pay induced his uncle ever to accede to his monstrous
+demands.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was this all that was poisoning a perfect summer day for Mr.
+Carmody. There was in addition the soul-searing behaviour of Doctor
+Alexander Twist, of Healthward Ho.</p>
+
+<p>When Doctor Twist had undertaken the contract of making a new Lester
+Carmody out of the old Lester Carmody, he had cannily stipulated for
+cash down in advance—this to cover a course of three weeks. But at the
+end of the second week Mr. Carmody, learning from his nephew Hugo that
+an American millionaire was arriving at the Hall, had naturally felt
+compelled to forego the final stages of the treatment and return home.
+Equally naturally, he had invited Doctor Twist to refund one-third
+of the fee. This the eminent physician and physical culture expert
+had resolutely declined to do, and Mr. Carmody, re-reading the man's
+letter, thought he had never set eyes upon a baser document.</p>
+
+<p>He was shuddering at the depths of depravity which it revealed, when
+the door opened and John came in. Mr. Carmody beheld him and shuddered.
+John—he could tell it by his eye—was planning another bad dent in the
+budget.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle Lester," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said Mr. Carmody hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we ought to have some new Alpha Separators."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alpha Separators."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"We need them."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"The old ones are past their work."</p>
+
+<p>"What," inquired Mr. Carmody, "is an Alpha Separator?"</p>
+
+<p>John said it was an Alpha Separator.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause. John, who appeared to have something on his mind
+these days, stared gloomily at the carpet. Mr. Carmody shifted in his
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"And new tractors," said John. "And we could do with a few harrows."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you want harrows?"</p>
+
+<p>"For harrowing."</p>
+
+<p>Even Mr. Carmody, anxious though he was to find flaws in the other's
+reasoning, could see that this might well be so. Try harrowing without
+harrows, and you are handicapped from the start. But why harrow at
+all? That was what seemed to him superfluous and wasteful. Still, he
+supposed it was unavoidable. After all, John had been carefully trained
+at an agricultural college after leaving Oxford and presumably knew.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He went out, and Mr. Carmody experienced a little relief at the thought
+that he had now heard all this morning's bad news.</p>
+
+<p>But dairy farmers have second thoughts. The door opened again.</p>
+
+<p>"I was forgetting," said John, poking his head in.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody uttered a low moan.</p>
+
+<p>"We want some Thomas tap-cinders."</p>
+
+<p>"Thomas what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tap-cinders."</p>
+
+<p>"Thomas tap-cinders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thomas tap-cinders."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody swallowed unhappily. He knew it was no use asking what
+these mysterious implements were, for his nephew would simply reply
+that they were Thomas tap-cinders or that they were something invented
+by a Mr. Thomas for the purpose of cinder-tapping, leaving his brain in
+the same addled condition in which it was at present. If John wished to
+tap cinders, he supposed he must humour him.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said dully.</p>
+
+<p>He held his breath for a few moments after the door had closed once
+more, then, gathering at length that the assault on his purse was over,
+expelled it in a long sigh and gave himself up to bleak meditation.</p>
+
+<p>The lot of the English landed proprietor, felt Mr. Carmody, is not what
+it used to be in the good old times. When the first Carmody settled in
+Rudge he had found little to view with alarm. He was sitting pretty,
+and he admitted it. Those were the days when churls were churls, and a
+scurvy knave was quite content to work twelve hours a day, Saturdays
+included, in return for a little black bread and an occasional nod of
+approval from his overlord. But in this Twentieth-Century England's
+peasantry has degenerated. They expect coddling. Their roofs leak, and
+you have to mend them; their walls fall down and you have to build them
+up; their lanes develop holes and you have to restore the surface,
+and all this runs into money. The way things were shaping, felt Mr.
+Carmody, in a few years a landlord would be expected to pay for the
+repairs of his tenants' wireless sets.</p>
+
+<p>He wandered to the window and looked out at the sunlit garden. And as
+he did so there came into his range of vision the sturdy figure of his
+guest, Mr. Molloy, and for the first time that morning Lester Carmody
+seemed to hear, beating faintly in the distance, the wings of the blue
+bird. In a world containing anybody as rich-looking as Thomas G. Molloy
+there was surely still hope.</p>
+
+<p>Ronald Fish's prediction that Hugo's uncle would appreciate a visit
+from so solid a citizen of the United States as Mr. Molloy had been
+fulfilled to the letter. Mr. Carmody had welcomed his guest with open
+arms. The more rich men he could gather about him, the better he was
+pleased, for he was a man of vision, and had quite a number of schemes
+in his mind for which he was anxious to obtain financial support.</p>
+
+<p>He decided to go and have a chat with Mr. Molloy. On a morning like
+this, with all Nature smiling, an American millionaire might well
+feel just in the mood to put up a few hundred thousand dollars for
+something. For July had come in on golden wings, and the weather now
+was the kind of weather to make a poet sing, a lover love, and a Scotch
+business man subscribe largely to companies formed for the purpose of
+manufacturing diamonds out of coal tar. On such a morning, felt Mr.
+Carmody, anybody ought to be willing to put up any sum for anything.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>Nature continued to smile for about another three and a quarter
+minutes, and then, as far as Mr. Carmody was concerned, the sun
+went out. With a genial heartiness, which gashed him like a knife,
+the plutocratic Mr. Molloy declined to invest even a portion of his
+millions in a new golf course, a cinema de luxe to be established in
+Rudge High Street, or any of the four other schemes which his host
+presented to his notice.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said Mr. Molloy. "I'm mighty sorry I can't meet you in any
+way, but the fact is I'm all fixed up in Oil. Oil's my dish. I began in
+Oil and I'll end in Oil. I wouldn't be happy outside of Oil."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said Mr. Carmody, regarding this Human Sardine with as little
+open hostility and dislike as he could manage on the spur of the moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, still in lyrical vein, "I put my
+first thousand into Oil and I'll put my last thousand into Oil. Oil's
+been a good friend to me. There's money in Oil."</p>
+
+<p>"There is money," urged Mr. Carmody, "in a cinema in Rudge High Street."</p>
+
+<p>"Not the money there is in Oil."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a stranger here," went on Mr. Carmody patiently, "so you have
+no doubt got a mistaken idea of the potentialities of Rudge. Rudge,
+you must remember, is a centre. Small though it is, never forget that
+it lies just off the main road in the heart of a prosperous county.
+Worcester is only seven miles away, Birmingham only eighteen. People
+would come in their motors...."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not stopping them," said Mr. Molloy generously. "All I'm saying is
+that my money stays in little old Oil."</p>
+
+<p>"Or take Golf," said Mr. Carmody, side-stepping and attacking from
+another angle. "The only good golf course in Worcestershire at present
+is at Stourbridge. Worcestershire needs more golf courses. You know how
+popular Golf is nowadays."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so popular as Oil. Oil," said Mr. Molloy, with the air of one
+making an epigram, "is Oil."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody stopped himself just in time from saying what he thought of
+Oil. To relieve his feelings he ground his heel into the soft gravel
+of the path, and had but one regret, that Mr. Molloy's most sensitive
+toe was not under it. Half turning in the process of making this bitter
+gesture, he perceived that Providence, since the days of Job always
+curious to know just how much a good man can bear, had sent Ronald
+Overbury Fish to add to his troubles. Young Mr. Fish was sauntering up
+behind his customary eleven inches of cigarette holder, his pink face
+wearing that expression of good-natured superiority which, ever since
+their first meeting, had afflicted Mr. Carmody sorely.</p>
+
+<p>From the list of Mr. Carmody's troubles, recently tabulated, Ronnie
+Fish was inadvertently omitted. Although to Lady Julia Fish, his
+mother, this young gentleman, no doubt, was all the world, Lester
+Carmody had found him nothing but a pain in the neck. Apart from
+the hideous expense of entertaining a man who took twice of nearly
+everything, and helped himself unblushingly to more port, he chafed
+beneath his guest's curiously patronizing manner. He objected to being
+treated as a junior—and, what was more, as a half-witted junior—by
+solemn young men with pink faces.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the argument?" asked Ronnie Fish, anchoring self and cigarette
+holder at Mr. Carmody's side.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy smiled genially.</p>
+
+<p>"No argument, brother," he replied with that bluff heartiness which
+Lester Carmody had come to dislike so much. "I was merely telling our
+good friend and host here that the best investment under the broad blue
+canopy of God's sky is Oil."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right," said Ronnie Fish. "He's perfectly correct, my dear
+Carmody."</p>
+
+<p>"Our good host was trying to interest me in golf courses."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't touch 'em," said Mr. Fish.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't," said Mr. Molloy. "Give me Oil. Oil's oil. First in war,
+first in peace, first in the hearts of its countrymen, that's what Oil
+is. The Universal Fuel of the Future."</p>
+
+<p>"Absolutely," said Ronnie Fish. "What did Gladstone say in '88? You can
+fuel some of the people all the time, and you can fuel all the people
+some of the time, but you can't fuel all the people all of the time. He
+was forgetting about Oil. Probably he meant coal."</p>
+
+<p>"Coal?" Mr. Molloy laughed satirically. You could see he despised the
+stuff. "Don't talk to me about Coal."</p>
+
+<p>This was another disappointment for Mr. Carmody. Cinemas <i>de luxe</i> and
+golf courses having failed, Coal was just what he had been intending to
+talk about. He suspected its presence beneath the turf of the park, and
+would have been glad to verify his suspicions with the aid of someone
+else's capital.</p>
+
+<p>"You listen to this bird, Carmody," said Mr. Fish, patting his host on
+the back. "He's talking sense. Oil's the stuff. Dig some of the savings
+out of the old sock, my dear Carmody, and wade in. You'll never regret
+it."</p>
+
+<p>And, having delivered himself of this advice with a fatherly
+kindliness which sent his host's temperature up several degrees, Ronnie
+Fish strolled on.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy watched him disappear with benevolent approval. He said to
+Mr. Carmody that that young man had his head screwed on the right way,
+and seemed not to notice a certain lack of responsive enthusiasm on the
+other's part. Ronnie Fish's head was not one of Mr. Carmody's favourite
+subjects at the moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, resuming. "Any man that goes into Oil
+is going into a good thing. Oil's all right. You don't see John D.
+Rockefeller running round asking for hand-outs from his friends, do
+you? No, sir! John's got his modest little competence, same as me, and
+he got it, like I did, out of Oil. Say, listen, Mr. Carmody, it isn't
+often I give up any of my holdings, but you've been mighty nice to me,
+inviting me to your home and all, and I'd like to do something for you
+in return. What do you say to a good, solid block of Silver River stock
+at just the price it cost me? And let me tell you I'm offering you
+something that half the big men on our side would give their eye teeth
+for. Only a couple of days before I sailed I was in Charley Schwab's
+office, and he said to me, 'Tom,' said Charley, 'right up till now
+I've stuck to Steel and I've done well. Understand,' he said, 'I'm not
+knocking Steel. But Oil's the stuff, and if you want to part with any
+of that Silver River of yours, Tom,' he said, 'pass it across this desk
+and write your own ticket.' That'll show you."</p>
+
+<p>There is no anguish like the anguish of the man who is trying to
+extract cash from a fellow human being and suddenly finds the fellow
+human being trying to extract it from him. Mr. Carmody laughed a bitter
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you imagine," he said, "that I have money to spare for speculative
+investments?"</p>
+
+<p>"Speculative?" Mr. Molloy seemed to suspect his ears of playing tricks.
+"Silver River spec——?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the time I've finished paying the bills for the expenses of this
+infernal estate I consider myself lucky if I've got a few hundred that
+I can call my own."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?" said Mr. Molloy in a thin voice.</p>
+
+<p>Strictly speaking, it was not. Before succeeding to his present
+position of head of the family and squire of Rudge Hall, Lester Carmody
+had contrived to put away in gilt-edged securities a very nice sum
+indeed, the fruit of his labours in the world of business. But it was
+his whim to regard himself as a struggling pauper.</p>
+
+<p>"But all this...." Mr. Molloy indicated with a wave of his hand the
+smiling gardens, the rolling park and the opulent-looking trees
+reflected in the waters of the moat. "Surely this means a barrel of
+money?"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything that comes in goes out again in expenses. There's no end to
+my expenses. Farmers in England to-day sit up at night trying to think
+of new claims they can make against a landlord."</p>
+
+<p>There was another pause.</p>
+
+<p>"That's bad," said Mr. Molloy thoughtfully. "Yes, sir, that's bad."</p>
+
+<p>His commiseration was not all for Mr. Carmody. In fact, very little
+of it was. Most of it was reserved for himself. It began to look, he
+realized, as though in coming to this stately home of England he had
+been simply wasting valuable time. It was not as if he enjoyed staying
+at country houses in a purely æsthetic spirit. On the contrary, a place
+like Rudge Hall afflicted his town-bred nerves. Being in it seemed to
+him like living in the first-act set of an old-fashioned comic opera.
+He always felt that at any moment a band of villagers and retainers
+might dance out and start a drinking chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "that must grind you a good deal."</p>
+
+<p>"What must?"</p>
+
+<p>It was not Mr. Carmody who had spoken, but his guest's attractive
+young wife, who, having returned from the village, had come up from
+the direction of the rose garden. From afar she had observed her
+husband spreading his hands in broad, persuasive gestures, and from
+her knowledge of him had gathered that he had embarked on one of those
+high-pressure sales talks of his which did so much to keep the wolf
+from the door. Then she had seen a shadow fall athwart his fine face,
+and, scenting a hitch in the negotiations, had hurried up to lend
+wifely assistance.</p>
+
+<p>"What must grind him?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy kept nothing from his bride.</p>
+
+<p>"I was offering our host here a block of those Silver River shares...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you aren't going to sell Silver Rivers!" cried Mrs. Molloy in
+pretty concern. "Why, you've always told me they're the biggest thing
+you've got."</p>
+
+<p>"So they are. But...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," said Dolly with a charming smile, "seeing it's Mr. Carmody.
+I wouldn't mind Mr. Carmody having them."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor would I," said Mr. Molloy sincerely. "But he can't afford to buy."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"You tell her," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody told her. He was never averse to speaking of the
+unfortunate position in which the modern owner of English land found
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't get it," said Dolly, shaking her head. "You call
+yourself a poor man. How can you be poor, when that gallery place you
+showed us round yesterday is jam full of pictures worth a fortune an
+inch and tapestries and all those gold coins?"</p>
+
+<p>"Heirlooms."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're heirlooms," said Mr. Carmody bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>He always felt bitter when he thought of the Rudge Hall heirlooms. He
+looked upon them as a mean joke played on him by a gang of sardonic
+ancestors.</p>
+
+<p>To a man, lacking both reverence for family traditions and appreciation
+of the beautiful in art, who comes into possession of an ancient house
+and its contents, there must always be something painfully ironical
+about heirlooms. To such a man they are simply so much potential wealth
+which is being allowed to lie idle, doing no good to anybody. Mr.
+Carmody had always had that feeling very strongly.</p>
+
+<p>Unlike the majority of heirs, he had not been trained from boyhood
+to revere the home of his ancestors, and to look forward to its
+possession as a sacred trust. He had been the second son of a second
+son, and his chance of ever succeeding to the property was at the
+outset so remote that he had seldom given it a thought. He had gone
+into business at an early age, and when, in middle life, a series of
+accidents made him squire of Rudge Hall, he had brought with him to the
+place a practical eye and the commercial outlook. The result was that
+when he walked in the picture gallery and thought how much solid cash
+he could get for this Velasquez or that Gainsborough, if only he were
+given a free hand, the iron entered into Lester Carmody's soul.</p>
+
+<p>"They're heirlooms," he said. "I can't sell them."</p>
+
+<p>"How come? They're yours, aren't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Mr. Carmody, "they belong to the estate."</p>
+
+<p>On Mr. Molloy, as he listened to his host's lengthy exposition of the
+laws governing heirlooms, there descended a deepening cloud of gloom.
+You couldn't, it appeared, dispose of the darned things without the
+consent of trustees; while even if the trustees gave their consent
+they collared the money and invested it on behalf of the estate. And
+Mr. Molloy, though ordinarily a man of sanguine temperament, could not
+bring himself to believe that a hard-boiled bunch of trustees, most of
+them probably lawyers with tight lips and suspicious minds, would ever
+have the sporting spirit to take a flutter in Silver River Ordinaries.</p>
+
+<p>"Hell!" said Mr. Molloy with a good deal of feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Dolly linked her arm in his with a pretty gesture of affectionate
+solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor old Pop!" she said. "He's all broken up about this."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody regarded his guest sourly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's he got to worry about?" he asked with a certain resentment.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pop was sort of hoping he'd be able to buy all this stuff," said
+Dolly. "He was telling me only this morning that, if you felt like
+selling, he would write you out his cheque for whatever you wanted
+without thinking twice."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">V</p>
+
+<p>Moodily scanning his wife's face during Mr. Carmody's lecture on
+Heirloom Law, Mr. Molloy had observed it suddenly light up in a manner
+which suggested that some pleasing thought was passing through her
+always agile brain; but, presented now in words, this thought left him
+decidedly cold. He could not see any sense in it.</p>
+
+<p>"For the love of Pete...!" began Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>His bride had promised to love, honour, and obey him, but she had never
+said anything about taking any notice of him when he tried to butt in
+on her moments of inspiration. She ignored the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," she said, "Pop collects old junk—I mean antiques and all
+like that. Over in America he's got a great big museum place full of
+stuff. He's going to present it to the nation when he hands in his
+dinner pail. Aren't you, Pop?"</p>
+
+<p>It became apparent to Mr. Molloy that at the back of his wife's mind
+there floated some idea at which, handicapped by his masculine slowness
+of wit, he could not guess. It was plain to him, however, that she
+expected him to do his bit, so he did it.</p>
+
+<p>"You betcher," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"How much would you say all that stuff in your museum was worth, Pop?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy was still groping in outer darkness, but he persevered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo," he said, "worth? Call it a million.... Two millions.... Three,
+maybe."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," explained Dolly, "the place is so full up, he doesn't really
+know what he's got. But Pierpont Morgan offered you a million for the
+pictures alone, didn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>Now that figures had crept into the conversation, Mr. Molloy was
+feeling more at his ease. He liked figures.</p>
+
+<p>"You're thinking of Jake Shubert, honey," he said. "It was the
+tapestries that Pierp. wanted. And it wasn't a million, it was seven
+hundred thousand. I laughed in his face. I asked him if he thought
+he was trying to buy cheese sandwiches at the delicatessen store or
+something. Pierp. was sore." Mr. Molloy shook his head regretfully,
+and you could see he was thinking that it was too bad that his little
+joke should have caused a coolness between himself and an old friend.
+"But, great guns!" he said, in defence of his attitude. "Seven hundred
+thousand! Did he think I wanted carfare?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody's always rather protuberant eyes had been bulging farther
+and farther out of their sockets all through this exchange of remarks,
+and now they reached the farthest point possible and stayed there.
+His breath was coming in little gasps, and his fingers twitched
+convulsively. He was suffering the extreme of agony.</p>
+
+<p>It was all very well for a man like Mr. Molloy to speak sneeringly of
+$700,000. To most people—and Mr. Carmody was one of them—$700,000 is
+quite a nice little sum. Mr. Molloy, if he saw $700,000 lying in the
+gutter, might not think it worth his while to stoop and pick it up,
+but Mr. Carmody could not imitate that proud detachment. The thought
+that he had as his guest at Rudge a man who combined with a bottomless
+purse a taste for antiquities and that only the imbecile laws relating
+to heirlooms prevented them consummating a deal racked him from head to
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>"How much would you have given Mr. Carmody for all those pictures and
+things he showed us yesterday?" asked Dolly, twisting the knife in the
+wound.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy spread his hands carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Two hundred thousand ... three ... we wouldn't have quarrelled about
+the price. But what's the use of talking? He can't sell 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Why can't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how can he?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you how. Fake a burglary."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. Have the things stolen and slipped over to you without anybody
+knowing, and then you hand him your cheque for two hundred thousand or
+whatever it is, and you're happy and he's happy and everybody's happy.
+And, what's more, I guess all this stuff is insured, isn't it? Well
+then, Mr. Carmody can stick to the insurance money, and he's that much
+up besides whatever he gets from you."</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence. Dolly had said her say, and Mr. Molloy felt for
+the moment incapable of speech. That he had not been mistaken in
+supposing that his wife had a scheme at the back of her head was now
+plain, but, as outlined, it took his breath away. Considered purely
+as a scheme, he had not a word to say against it. It was commercially
+sound and did credit to the ingenuity of one whom he had always
+regarded as the slickest thinker of her sex. But it was not the sort of
+scheme, he considered, which ought to have emanated from the presumably
+innocent and unspotted daughter of a substantial Oil millionaire. It
+was calculated, he felt, to create in their host's mind doubts and
+misgivings as to the sort of people he was entertaining.</p>
+
+<p>He need have no such apprehension. It was not righteous disapproval
+that was holding Mr. Carmody dumb.</p>
+
+<p>It has been laid down by an acute thinker that there is a subtle
+connection between felony and fat. Almost all embezzlers, for instance,
+says this authority, are fat men. Whether this is or is not true,
+the fact remains that the sensational criminality of the suggestion
+just made to him awoke no horror in Mr. Carmody's ample bosom. He
+was startled, as any man might be who had this sort of idea sprung
+suddenly on him in his own garden, but he was not shocked. A youth and
+middle age spent on the London Stock Exchange had left Lester Carmody
+singularly broad-minded. He had to a remarkable degree that specious
+charity which allows a man to look indulgently on any financial
+project, however fishy, provided he can see a bit in it for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"It's money for nothing," urged Dolly, misinterpreting his silence.
+"The stuff isn't doing any good, just lying around the way it is now.
+And it isn't as if it didn't really belong to you. All what you were
+saying awhile back about the law is simply mashed potatoes. The things
+belong to the house, and the house belongs to you, so where's the harm
+in your selling them? Who's supposed to get them after you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody withdrew his gaze from the middle distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? Oh. My nephew Hugo."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you aren't worrying about him?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody was not. What he was worrying about was the practicability
+of the thing. Could it, he was asking himself, be put safely through
+without the risk, so distasteful to a man of sensibility, of landing
+him for a lengthy term of years in a prison cell? It was on this aspect
+of the matter that he now touched.</p>
+
+<p>"It wouldn't be safe," he said, and few men since the world began have
+ever spoken more wistfully. "We would be found out."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a chance. Who would find out? Who's going to say anything? You're
+not. I'm not. Pop's not."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet your life Pop's not," asserted Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody gazed out over the waters of the moat. His brain, quickened
+by the stimulating prospect of money for nothing, detected another
+doubtful point.</p>
+
+<p>"Who would take the things?"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean get them out of the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. Somebody would have to take them. It would be necessary to
+create the appearance of an actual burglary."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there'll be an actual burglary."</p>
+
+<p>"But whom could we trust in such a vital matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right. Pop's got a friend, another millionaire like
+himself, who would put this thing through just for the fun of it, to
+oblige Pop. You could trust him."</p>
+
+<p>"Who?" asked Mr. Molloy, plainly surprised that any friend of his could
+be trusted.</p>
+
+<p>"Chimp," said Dolly briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Chimp," said Mr. Molloy, his face clearing. "Yes, Chimp would do
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Who," asked Mr. Carmody, "is Chimp?"</p>
+
+<p>"A good friend of mine. You wouldn't know him."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody scratched at the gravel with his toe, and for a long minute
+there was silence in the garden. Mr. Molloy looked at Mrs. Molloy.
+Mrs. Molloy looked at Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy closed his left eye for
+a fractional instant, and in response Mrs. Molloy permitted her right
+eyelid to quiver. But, perceiving that this was one of the occasions on
+which a strong man wishes to be left alone to commune with his soul,
+they forebore to break in upon his reverie with jarring speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll think it over," said Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"Atta-boy!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. You take a nice walk around the block all by yourself," advised
+Mrs. Molloy, "and then come back and issue a bulletin."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody moved away, pondering deeply, and Mr. Molloy turned to his
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>"What made you think of Chimp?" he asked doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he's the only guy on this side that we really know. We can't
+pick and choose, same as if we were in New York."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy eyed the moat with a thoughtful frown.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll tell you, honey. I'm not so darned sure that I sort of kind
+of like bringing Chimp into a thing like this. You know what he is—as
+slippery as an eel that's been rubbed all over with axle grease. He
+might double-cross us."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if we double-cross him first."</p>
+
+<p>"But could we?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we could. And, anyway, it's Chimp or no one. This isn't the sort
+of affair you can just go out into the street and pick up the first
+man you run into. It's a job where you've got to have somebody you've
+worked with before."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, baby. If you say so. You always were the brains of the
+firm. If you think it's kayo, then it's all right by me and no more to
+be said. Cheese it! Here's his nibs back again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody was coming up the gravel path, his air that of a man who
+has made a great decision. He had evidently been following a train of
+thought, for he began abruptly at the point to which it had led him.</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one thing," he said. "I don't like the idea of bringing
+in this friend of yours. He may be all right or he may not. You say you
+can trust him, but it seems to me the fewer people who know about this
+business, the better."</p>
+
+<p>These were Mr. Molloy's sentiments, also. He would vastly have
+preferred to keep it a nice, cosy affair among the three of them. But
+it was no part of his policy to ignore obvious difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like that, too," he said. "I don't want to call in Chimp any more
+than you do. But there's this thing of getting the stuff out of the
+house."</p>
+
+<p>"What you were saying just now," Mrs. Molloy reminded Mr. Carmody.
+"It's got to look like an outside job, what I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"As it's called," said Mr. Molloy hastily. "She's always reading these
+detective stories," he explained. "That's where she picks up these
+expressions. Outside job, ha, ha! But she's dead right, at that. You
+said yourself it would be necessary to create the appearance of an
+actual burglary. If we don't get Chimp, who is going to take the stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am," repeated Mr. Carmody stoutly. "I have been thinking the whole
+matter out, and it will be perfectly simple. I shall get up very early
+to-morrow morning and enter the picture gallery through the window by
+means of a ladder. This will deceive the police into supposing the
+theft to have been the work of a professional burglar."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy was regarding him with affectionate admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew you were such a hot sketch!" said Mr. Molloy. "You
+certainly are one smooth citizen. Looks to me as if you'd done this
+sort of thing before."</p>
+
+<p>"Wear gloves," advised Mrs. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"What she means," said Mr. Molloy, again speaking with a certain
+nervous haste, "is that the first thing the bulls—as the expression
+is—they always call the police bulls in these detective stories—the
+first thing the police look for is fingerprints. The fellows in the
+books always wear gloves."</p>
+
+<p>"A very sensible precaution," said Mr. Carmody, now thoroughly in the
+spirit of the thing. "I am glad you mentioned it. I shall make a point
+of doing so."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>The picture gallery of Rudge Hall, the receptacle of what Mrs. Soapy
+Molloy had called the antiques and all like that, was situated on the
+second floor of that historic edifice. To Mr. Carmody, at five-thirty
+on the following morning, as he propped against the broad sill of the
+window facing the moat a ladder, which he had discovered in one of the
+barns, it looked much higher. He felt, as he gazed upward, like an
+inexpert Jack about to mount the longest bean stalk on record.</p>
+
+<p>Even as a boy, Lester Carmody had never been a great climber. While
+his young companions, reckless of risk to life and limb, had swarmed
+to the top of apple trees, Mr. Carmody had preferred to roam about on
+solid ground, hunting in the grass for windfalls. He had always hated
+heights, and this morning found him more prejudiced against them than
+ever. It says much for crime as a wholesome influence in a man's life
+that the lure of the nefarious job which he had undertaken should
+have induced him eventually after much hesitation to set foot on the
+ladder's lowest rung. Nothing but a single-minded desire to do down an
+innocent insurance company could have lent him the necessary courage.</p>
+
+<p>Mind having triumphed over matter to this extent, Mr. Carmody found
+the going easier. Carefully refraining from looking down, he went
+doggedly upward. Only the sound of his somewhat stertorous breathing
+broke the hushed stillness of the summer morning. As far as the weather
+was concerned, it was the start of a perfect day. But Mr. Carmody paid
+no attention to the sunbeams creeping over the dewy grass, nor, when
+the quiet was broken by the first piping of birds, did he pause to
+listen. He had not, he considered, time for that sort of thing. He was
+to have ample leisure later, but of this he was not aware.</p>
+
+<p>He continued to climb, using the extreme of caution—a method which,
+while it helped to ease his mind, necessarily rendered progress slow.
+Before long, he was suffering from a feeling that he had been climbing
+this ladder all his life. The thing seemed to have no end. He was now,
+he felt, at such a distance from the earth that he wondered the air was
+not more rarefied, and it appeared incredible to him that he should not
+long since have reached the window sill.</p>
+
+<p>Looking up at this point, a thing he had not dared to do before, he
+found that steady perseverance had brought about its usual result. The
+sill was only a few inches above his head, and with the realization
+of this fact there came to him something that was almost a careless
+jauntiness. He quickened his pace, and treading heavily on an upper
+rung snapped it in two as if it had been matchwood.</p>
+
+<p>When this accident occurred, he had been on a level with the sill and
+just about to step warily on to it. The effect of the breaking of the
+rung was to make him execute this movement at about fifteen times the
+speed which he had contemplated. There was a moment in which the whole
+universe seemed to dissolve, and then he was on the sill, his fingers
+clinging with a passionate grip to a small piece of lead piping that
+protruded from the wall and his legs swinging dizzily over the abyss.
+The ladder, urged outward by his last frenzied kick, tottered for an
+instant, then fell to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>The events just described, though it seemed longer to the principal
+actor in them, had occupied perhaps six seconds. They left Mr. Carmody
+in a world that jumped and swam before his eyes, feeling as though
+somebody had extracted his heart and replaced it with some kind of
+lively firework. This substitute, whatever it was, appeared to be
+fizzing and leaping inside his chest, and its gyrations interfered with
+his breathing. For some minutes his only conscious thought was that he
+felt extremely ill. Then becoming by slow degrees more composed, he was
+enabled to examine the situation.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a pleasant one. At first, it had been agreeable enough
+simply to allow his mind to dwell on the fact that he was alive and in
+one piece. But now, probing beneath this mere surface aspect of the
+matter, he perceived that, taking the most conservative estimate, he
+must acknowledge himself to be in a peculiarly awkward position.</p>
+
+<p>The hour was about a quarter to six. He was thirty feet or so above the
+ground. And, though reason told him that the window sill on which he
+sat was thoroughly solid and quite capable of bearing a much heavier
+weight, he could not rid himself of the feeling that at any moment it
+might give way and precipitate him into the depths.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, looked at in the proper spirit, his predicament had all
+sorts of compensations. The medical profession is agreed that there is
+nothing better for the health than the fresh air of the early morning:
+and this he was in a position to drink into his lungs in unlimited
+quantities. Furthermore, nobody could have been more admirably situated
+than he to compile notes for one of those Country Life articles which
+are so popular with the readers of daily papers.</p>
+
+<p>"As I sit on my second-floor window sill and gaze about me," Mr.
+Carmody ought to have been saying to himself, "I see Dame Nature busy
+about her morning tasks. Everything in my peaceful garden is growing
+and blowing. Here I note that most gem-like of all annuals, the African
+nemesia with its brilliant ruby and turquoise tints; there the lovely
+tangle of blue, purple, and red formed by the blending shades of
+delphiniums, Canterbury bells, and the popular geum. Birds, too, are
+chanting everywhere their morning anthems. I see the Jay (<i>Garrulus
+Glandarius Rufitergum</i>), the <i>Corvus Monedula Spermologus</i> or Jackdaw,
+the Sparrow (better known, perhaps, to some of my readers as <i>Prunella
+Modularis Occidentalis</i>) and many others...."</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Carmody's reflections did not run on these lines. It was
+with a gloomy and hostile eye that he regarded the grass, the trees,
+the flowers, the birds and dew that lay like snow upon the turf: and
+of all these, it was possibly the birds that he disliked most. They
+were an appalling crowd—noisy, fussy, and bustling about with a
+sort of overdone heartiness that seemed to Mr. Carmody affected and
+offensive. They got on his nerves and stayed there: and outstanding
+among the rest in general lack of charm was a certain Dartford Warbler
+(<i>Melizophilus Undatus Dartfordiensis</i>) which, instead of staying in
+Dartford, where it belonged, had come all the way up to Worcestershire
+simply, it appeared, for the purpose of adding to his discomfort.</p>
+
+<p>This creature, flaunting a red waistcoat which might have been all
+right for a frosty day in winter but on a summer morning seemed
+intolerably loud and struck the jarring note of a Fair Isle sweater in
+the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, arrived at five minutes past six and,
+sitting down on the edge of Mr. Carmody's window sill, looked long and
+earnestly at that unfortunate man with its head cocked on one side.</p>
+
+<p>"This can't be real," said the Dartford Warbler in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>It then flew away and did some rough work among the insects under a
+bush. At six-ten it returned.</p>
+
+<p>"It is real," it soliloquized. "But if real, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Pondering this problem, it returned to its meal, and Mr. Carmody was
+left for some considerable time to his meditations. It may have been
+about twenty-five minutes to seven when a voice at his elbow aroused
+him once more. The Dartford Warbler was back again, its eye now a
+little glazed and wearing the replete look of the bird that has done
+itself well at the breakfast table.</p>
+
+<p>"And why?" mused the Dartford Warbler, resuming at the point where he
+had left off.</p>
+
+<p>To Mr. Carmody, conscious now of a devouring hunger, the spectacle of
+this bloated bird was the last straw. He struck out at it in a spasm
+of irritation and nearly overbalanced. The Warbler uttered a shrill
+exclamation of terror and disappeared, looking like an absconding
+bookmaker. Mr. Carmody huddled back against the window, palpitating.
+And more time passed.</p>
+
+<p>It was at half-past seven, when he was beginning to feel that he had
+not tasted food since boyhood, that there sounded from somewhere below
+on his right a shrill whistling.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>He looked cautiously down. It gave him acute vertigo to do so, but he
+braved this in his desire to see. Since his vigil began, he had heard
+much whistling. In addition to the <i>Garrulus Glandarius Rufitergum</i>
+and the <i>Corvus Monedula Spermologus</i>, he had been privileged for the
+last hour or so to listen to a concert featuring such artists as the
+<i>Dryobates Major Anglicus</i>, the <i>Sturnus Vulgaris</i>, the <i>Emberiza
+Curlus</i>, and the <i>Muscicapa Striata</i>, or Spotted Flycatcher: and, a
+moment before, he would have said that in the matter of whistling he
+had had all he wanted. But this latest outburst sounded human. It
+stirred in his bosom something approaching hope.</p>
+
+<p>So Mr. Carmody, craning his neck, waited: and presently round the
+corner of the house, a towel about his shoulders, suggesting that he
+was on his way to take an early morning dip in the moat, came his
+nephew Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody, as this chronicle has shown, had never entertained for
+Hugo quite that warmth of affection which one likes to see in an uncle
+toward his nearest of kin, but at the present moment he could not have
+appreciated him more if he had been a millionaire anxious to put up
+capital for a new golf course in the park.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoy!" he cried, much as the beleaguered garrison of Lucknow must have
+done to the advance guard of the relieving Highlanders. "Hoy!"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo stopped. He looked to his right, then to his left, then in front
+of him, and then, turning, behind him. It was a spectacle that chilled
+in an instant the new sensation of kindness which his uncle had been
+feeling toward him.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoy!" cried Mr. Carmody. "Hugo! Confound the boy! Hugo!"</p>
+
+<p>For the first time the other looked up. Perceiving Mr. Carmody in his
+eyrie, he stood rigid, gazing with opened mouth. He might have been
+posing for a statue of Young Man Startled By Snake in Path While About
+to Bathe.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Scot!" said Hugo, looking to his uncle's prejudiced eye exactly
+like the Dartford Warbler. "What on earth are you doing up there?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody would have writhed in irritation, had not prudence reminded
+him that he was thirty feet too high in the air to do that sort of
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind what I'm doing up here! Help me down."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you get there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind how I got here!"</p>
+
+<p>"But what," persisted Hugo insatiably, "is the big—or general—idea?"</p>
+
+<p>Withheld from the relief of writhing, Mr. Carmody gritted his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Put that ladder up," he said in a strained voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Ladder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ladder."</p>
+
+<p>"What ladder?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is a ladder on the ground."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"There. No, not there. There. There. Not there, I tell you. There.
+There."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo, following these directions, concluded a successful search.</p>
+
+<p>"Right," he said. "Ladder, long, wooden, for purposes of climbing, one.
+Correct as per memo. Now what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Put it up."</p>
+
+<p>"Right."</p>
+
+<p>"And hold it very carefully."</p>
+
+<p>"Esteemed order booked," said Hugo. "Carry on."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure you are holding it carefully?"</p>
+
+<p>"As in a vise."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't let go."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody, dying a considerable number of deaths in the process,
+descended. He found his nephew's curiosity at close range even more
+acute than it had been from a distance.</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth were you doing up there?" said Hugo, starting again at
+the beginning.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind."</p>
+
+<p>"But what were you?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish to know, a rung broke and the ladder slipped."</p>
+
+<p>"But what were you doing on a ladder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind!" cried Mr. Carmody, regretting more bitterly than ever
+before in his life that his late brother Eustace had not lived and died
+a bachelor. "Don't keep saying What—What—What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why?" said Hugo, conceding the point. "Why were you climbing
+ladders?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody hesitated. His native intelligence returning, he perceived
+now that this was just what the great public would want to know. It was
+little use urging a human talking machine like his nephew to keep quiet
+and say nothing about this incident. In a couple of hours it would be
+all over Rudge. He thought swiftly.</p>
+
+<p>"I fancied I saw a swallow's nest under the eaves."</p>
+
+<p>"Swallow's nest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Swallow's nest. The nest," said Mr. Carmody between his teeth, "of a
+swallow."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you think swallows nested in July?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why shouldn't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they don't."</p>
+
+<p>"I never said they did. I merely said...."</p>
+
+<p>"No swallow has ever nested in July."</p>
+
+<p>"I never...."</p>
+
+<p>"April," said our usually well-informed correspondent.</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"April. Swallows nest in April."</p>
+
+<p>"Damn all swallows!" said Mr. Carmody. And there was silence for a
+moment, while Hugo directed his keen young mind to other aspects of
+this strange affair.</p>
+
+<p>"How long had you been up there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. Hours. Since half-past five."</p>
+
+<p>"Half-past five? You mean you got up at half-past five to look for
+swallows' nests in July?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not get up to look for swallows' nests."</p>
+
+<p>"But you said you were looking for swallows' nests."</p>
+
+<p>"I did not say I was looking for swallows' nests. I merely said I
+fancied I saw a swallow's nest...."</p>
+
+<p>"You couldn't have done. Swallows don't nest in July.... April."</p>
+
+<p>The sun was peeping over the elms. Mr. Carmody raised his clenched
+fists to it.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not say I saw a swallow's nest. I said I thought I saw a
+swallow's nest."</p>
+
+<p>"And got a ladder out and climbed up for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Having risen from couch at five-thirty ante meridian?"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kindly stop asking me all these questions."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo regarded him thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Just as you like, Uncle. Well, anything further this morning? If not,
+I'll be getting along and taking my dip."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Ronnie," said Hugo, some two hours later, meeting his friend en
+route for the breakfast table. "You know my uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"What about him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's loopy."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone clean off his castors. I found him at seven o'clock this morning
+sitting on a second-floor window sill. He said he'd got up at
+five-thirty to look for swallows' nests."</p>
+
+<p>"Bad," said Mr. Fish, shaking his head with even more than his usual
+solemnity. "Second-floor window sill, did you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Second-floor window sill."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly how my aunt started," said Ronnie Fish.</p>
+
+<p>"They found her sitting on the roof of the stables, playing the ukulele
+in a blue dressing gown. She said she was Boadicea. And she wasn't.
+That's the point, old boy," said Mr. Fish earnestly. "She wasn't. We
+must get you out of this as quickly as possible, or before you know
+where you are you'll find yourself being murdered in your bed. It's
+this living in the country that does it. Six consecutive months in the
+country is enough to sap the intellect of anyone. Looking for swallows'
+nests, was he?"</p>
+
+<p>"So he said. And swallows don't nest in July. They nest in April."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Fish nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"That's how I always heard the story," he agreed. "The whole thing
+looks very black to me, and the sooner you're safe out of this and in
+London, the better."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>At about the same moment, Mr. Carmody was in earnest conference with
+Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"That man you were telling me about," said Mr. Carmody. "That friend of
+yours who you said would help us."</p>
+
+<p>"Chimp?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you referred to him as Chimp. How soon could you get in
+touch with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right away, brother."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody objected to being called brother, but this was no time for
+being finicky.</p>
+
+<p>"Send for him at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, have you given up the idea of getting that stuff out of the house
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Entirely," said Mr. Carmody. He shuddered slightly. "I have been
+thinking the matter over very carefully, and I feel that this is an
+affair where we require the services of some third party. Where is this
+friend of yours? In London?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He's right around the corner. His name's Twist. He runs a sort of
+health-farm place only a few miles from here."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless my soul! Healthward Ho?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the spot. Do you know it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I have only just returned from there."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy was conscious of a feeling of almost incredulous awe. It
+was the sort of feeling which would come to a man who saw miracles
+happening all around him. He could hardly believe that things could
+possibly run as smoothly as they appeared to be doing. He had
+anticipated a certain amount of difficulty in selling Chimp Twist to
+Mr. Carmody, as he phrased it to himself, and had looked forward with
+not a little apprehension to a searching inquisition into Chimp Twist's
+<i>bona fides</i>. And now, it seemed, Mr. Carmody knew Chimp personally and
+was, no doubt, prepared to receive him without a question. Could luck
+like this hold? That was the only thought that disturbed Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't that interesting!" he said slowly. "So you know my old
+friend Twist, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Carmody, speaking, however, as if the acquaintanceship
+were not one to which he looked back with any pleasure. "I know him
+very well."</p>
+
+<p>"Fine!" said Mr. Molloy. "You see, if I thought we were getting in
+somebody you knew nothing about and felt you couldn't trust, it would
+sort of worry me."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody made no comment on this evidence of his guest's nice
+feeling. He was meditating and did not hear it. What he was meditating
+on was the agreeable fact that money which he had been trying so vainly
+to recover from Doctor Twist would not be a dead loss after all. He
+could write if off as part of the working expenses of this little
+venture. He beamed happily at Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Healthward Ho is on the telephone," he said. "Go and speak to Doctor
+Twist now and ask him to come over here at once." He hesitated for a
+moment, then came bravely to a decision. After all, whatever the cost
+in petrol, oil, and depreciation of tires, it was for a good object.
+More working expenses. "I will send my car for him," he said.</p>
+
+<p>If you wish to accumulate, you must inevitably speculate, felt Mr.
+Carmody.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>The strange depression which had come upon Pat in the shop of Chas.
+Bywater did not yield, as these gray moods generally do, to the
+curative influence of time. The following morning found her as gloomy
+as ever—indeed, rather gloomier, for shortly after breakfast the
+<i>noblesse oblige</i> spirit of the Wyverns had sent her on a reluctant
+visit to an old retainer who lived—if you could call it that—in one
+of the smaller and stuffier houses in Budd Street. Pensioned off after
+cooking for the Colonel for eighteen years, this female had retired
+to bed and stayed there, and there was a legend in the family, though
+neither by word nor look did she ever give any indication of it, that
+she enjoyed seeing Pat.</p>
+
+<p>Bedridden ladies of advanced age seldom bubble over with fun and <i>joie
+de vivre</i>. This one's attitude toward life seemed to have been borrowed
+from her favourite light reading, the works of the Prophet Jeremiah,
+and Pat, as she emerged into the sunshine after some eighty minutes of
+her society, was feeling rather like Jeremiah's younger sister.</p>
+
+<p>The sense of being in a world unworthy of her—a world cold and
+unsympathetic and full of an inferior grade of human being, had now
+become so oppressive that she was compelled to stop on her way home
+and linger on the old bridge which spanned the Skirme. From the days
+of her childhood this sleepy, peaceful spot had always been a haven
+when things went wrong. She was gazing down into the slow-moving water
+and waiting for it to exercise its old spell, when she heard her name
+spoken and turned to see Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>"What ho," said Hugo, pausing beside her. His manner was genial and
+unconcerned. He had not met her since that embarrassing scene in the
+lobby of the Hotel Lincoln, but he was a man on whom the memory of past
+embarrassments sat lightly. "What do you think you're doing, young Pat?"</p>
+
+<p>Pat found herself cheering up a little. She liked Hugo. The sense of
+being all alone in a bleak world left her.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing in particular," she said. "Just looking at the water."</p>
+
+<p>"Which in its proper place," agreed Hugo, "is admirable stuff. I've
+been doing a bit of froth-blowing at the Carmody Arms. Also buying
+cigarettes and other necessaries. I say, have you heard about my Uncle
+Lester's brain coming unstuck? Absolutely. He's quite <i>non compos</i>.
+Mad as a coot. Belfry one seething mass of bats. He's taken to climbing
+ladders in the small hours after swallows' nests. However, shelving
+that for the moment, I'm very glad I ran into you this morning, young
+Pat. I wish to have a serious talk with you about old John."</p>
+
+<p>"John?"</p>
+
+<p>"John."</p>
+
+<p>"What about John?"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment there whirred past, bearing in its interior a weedy,
+snub-nosed man with a waxed moustache, a large red automobile. Hugo,
+suspending his remarks, followed it with astonished eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Lord!"</p>
+
+<p>"What about Johnnie?"</p>
+
+<p>"That was the Dex-Mayo," said Hugo. "And the gargoyle inside was that
+blighter Twist from Healthward Ho. Great Scott! The car must have been
+over there to fetch him."</p>
+
+<p>"What's so remarkable about that?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's so remarkable?" echoed Hugo, astounded. "What's remarkable
+about Uncle Lester deliberately sending his car twenty miles to fetch
+a man who could have come, if he had to come at all, by train at his
+own expense? My dear old thing, it's revolutionary. It marks an epoch.
+Do you know what I think has happened? You remember that dynamite
+explosion in the park when Uncle Lester nearly got done in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't have much chance to forget it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what I believe has happened is that the shock he got that day
+has completely changed his nature. It's a well-known thing. You hear
+of such cases all the time. Ronnie Fish was telling me about one only
+yesterday. There was a man he knew in London, a money lender, a fellow
+who had a glass eye, and the only thing that enabled anyone to tell
+which of his eyes was which was that the glass one had rather a more
+human expression than the other. That's the sort of chap he was. Well,
+one day he was nearly konked in a railway accident, and he came out of
+hospital a different man. Slapped people on the back, patted children
+on the head, tore up I.O.U.'s, and talked about its being everybody's
+duty to make the world a better place. Take it from me, young Pat,
+Uncle Lester's whole nature has undergone some sort of rummy change
+like that. That swallow's nest business must have been a preliminary
+symptom. Ronnie tells me that this money lender with the glass eye...."</p>
+
+<p>Pat was not interested in glass-eyed money lenders.</p>
+
+<p>"What were you saying about John?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going home quick, so as to be
+among those present when he starts scattering the stuff. It's quite
+on the cards that I may scoop that five hundred yet. Once a tightwad
+starts seeing the light...."</p>
+
+<p>"You were saying something about John," said Pat, falling into step
+with him as he moved off. His babble irked her, making her wish that
+she could put the clock back a few years. Age, they say, has its
+compensations, but one of the drawbacks of becoming grown-up and
+sedate is that you have to abandon the childish practice of clumping
+your friends on the side of the head when they wander from the point.
+However, she was not too old to pinch her companion in the fleshy part
+of the arm, and she did so.</p>
+
+<p>"Ouch!" said Hugo, coming out of his trance.</p>
+
+<p>"What about John?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo massaged his arm tenderly. The look of a greyhound pursuing an
+electric hare died out of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, yes. John. Glad you reminded me. Have you seen John lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I'm not allowed to go to the Hall, and he seems too busy to come
+and see me."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't so much being busy. Don't forget there's a war on. No doubt
+he's afraid of bumping into the parent."</p>
+
+<p>"If Johnnie's scared of Father...."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no need to speak in that contemptuous tone. I am, and there
+are few more intrepid men alive than Hugo Carmody. The old Colonel,
+believe me, is a tough baby. If I ever see him, I shall run like a
+rabbit, and my biographers may make of it what they will. You, being
+his daughter and having got accustomed to his ways, probably look on
+him as something quite ordinary and harmless, but even you will admit
+that he's got eyebrows which must be seen to be believed."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind Father's eyebrows. Go on about Johnnie."</p>
+
+<p>"Right ho. Well, then, look here, young Pat," said Hugo, earnestly,
+"in the interests of the aforesaid John, I want to ask you a favour. I
+understand he proposed to you that night at the Mustard Spoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"And you slipped him the mitten."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't think I'm blaming you," Hugo assured her. "If you don't
+want him, you don't. Nothing could be fairer than that. But what I'm
+asking you to do now is to keep clear of the poor chap. If you happen
+to run into him, that can't be helped, but be a sport and do your best
+to avoid him. Don't unsettle him. If you come buzzing round, stirring
+memories of the past and arousing thoughts of Auld Lang Syne and what
+not, that'll unsettle him. It'll take his mind off his job and ...
+well ... unsettle him. And, providing he isn't unsettled, I have strong
+hopes that we may get old John off this season. Do I make myself
+clear?"</p>
+
+<p>Pat kicked viciously at an inoffensive pebble, whose only fault was
+that it happened to be within reach at the moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose what you're trying to break to me in your rambling,
+woollen-headed way is that Johnnie is mooning round that Molloy girl? I
+met her just now in Bywater's, and she told me she was staying at the
+Hall."</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't call it mooning," said Hugo thoughtfully, speaking like a
+man who is an expert in these matters and can appraise subtle values.
+"I wouldn't say it had quite reached the mooning stage yet. But I have
+hopes. You see, John is a bloke whom Nature intended for a married man.
+He's a confirmed settler-down, the sort of chap who...."</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't go over all that again. I had the pleasure of hearing your
+views on the subject that night in the lobby of the hotel."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you did hear?" said Hugo, unabashed. "Well, don't you think I'm
+right?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean do I approve of Johnnie marrying Miss Molloy, I certainly
+do not."</p>
+
+<p>"But if you don't want him...."</p>
+
+<p>"It has nothing to do with my wanting him or not wanting him. I don't
+like Miss Molloy."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's flashy."</p>
+
+<p>"I would have said smart."</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't." Pat, with an effort, recovered a certain measure of calm.
+Wrangling, she felt, was beneath her. As she could not hit Hugo with
+the basket in which she had carried two pounds of tea, a bunch of
+roses, and a seed cake to her bedridden pensioner, the best thing to do
+was to preserve a ladylike composure. "Anyway, you're probably taking a
+lot for granted. Probably Johnnie isn't in the least attracted by her.
+Has he ever given any sign of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sign?" Hugo considered. "It depends what you mean by sign. You know
+what old John is. One of these strong, silent fellows who looks on all
+occasions like a stuffed frog."</p>
+
+<p>"He doesn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me," said Hugo firmly. "Have you ever seen a stuffed frog?
+Well, I have. I had one for years when I was a kid. And John has
+exactly the same power of expressing emotion. You can't go by what he
+says or the way he looks. You have to keep an eye out for much subtler
+bits of evidence. Now, last night he was explaining the rules of
+cricket to this girl, and answering all her questions on the subject,
+and, as he didn't at any point in the proceeding punch her on the
+nose, one is entitled to deduce, I consider, that he must be strongly
+attracted by her. Ronnie thinks so, too. So what I'm asking you to
+do...."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye," said Pat. They had reached the gate of the little drive
+that led to her house, and she turned sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>"But just a moment," insisted Hugo. "Will you...."</p>
+
+<p>At this point he stopped in mid-sentence and began to walk quickly up
+the road; and Pat, puzzled to conjecture the reason for so abrupt a
+departure, received illumination a moment later when she saw her father
+coming down the drive. Colonel Wyvern had been dealing murderously with
+snails in the shadow of a bush, and the expression on his face seemed
+to indicate that he would be glad to extend the treatment to Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed after that officious young man with a steely eye. The second
+post had arrived a short time before, and it had included among a
+number of bills and circulars a letter from his lawyer, in which the
+latter regretfully gave it as his opinion that an action against Mr.
+Lester Carmody in the matter of that dynamite business would not lie.
+To bring such an action would, in the judgment of Colonel Wyvern's
+lawyer, be a waste both of time and money.</p>
+
+<p>The communication was not calculated to sweeten the Colonel's
+temper, nor did the spectacle of his daughter in apparently pleasant
+conversation with one of the enemy help to cheer him up.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you talking about to that fellow?" he demanded. It was rare
+for Colonel Wyvern to be the heavy father, but there are times when
+heaviness in a father is excusable. "Where did you meet him?"</p>
+
+<p>His tone disagreeably affected Pat's already harrowed nerves, but she
+replied to the question equably.</p>
+
+<p>"I met him on the bridge. We were talking about John."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, kindly understand that I don't want you to hold any
+communication whatsoever with that young man or his cousin John or his
+infernal uncle or any of that Hall gang. Is that clear?"</p>
+
+<p>Her father was looking at her as if she were a snail which he had just
+found eating one of his lettuce leaves, but Pat still contrived with
+some difficulty to preserve a pale, saintlike calm.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite clear."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then."</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence.</p>
+
+<p>"I've known Johnnie fourteen years," said Pat in a small voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite long enough," grunted Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>Pat walked on into the house and up the stairs to her room. There,
+having stamped on the basket and reduced it to a state where it would
+never again carry seed cake to ex-cooks, she sat on her bed and stared,
+dry-eyed, at her reflection in the mirror.</p>
+
+<p>What with Dolly Molloy and Hugo and her father, the whole aspect of
+John Carroll seemed to be changing for her. No longer was she able to
+think of him as Poor Old Johnnie. He had the glamour now of something
+unattainable and greatly to be desired. She looked back at a night,
+some centuries ago, when a fool of a girl had refused the offer of this
+superman's love, and shuddered to think what a mess of things girls can
+make.</p>
+
+<p>And she had no one to confide in. The only person who could have
+understood and sympathized with her was Hugo's glass-eyed money lender.
+He knew what it was to change one's outlook.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Alexander (Chimp) Twist stood with his shoulders against the
+mantelpiece in Mr. Carmody's study and, twirling his waxed moustache
+thoughtfully, listened with an expressionless face to Soapy Molloy's
+synopsis of the events which had led up to his being at the Hall
+that morning. Dolly reclined in a deep armchair. Mr. Carmody was not
+present, having stated that he would prefer to leave the negotiations
+entirely to Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>Through the open window the sounds and scents of summer poured in, but
+it is unlikely that Chimp Twist was aware of them. He was a man who
+believed in concentration, and his whole attention now was taken up by
+the remarkable facts which his old acquaintance and partner was placing
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>The latter's conversation on the telephone some two hours ago had left
+Chimp Twist with an open mind. He was hopeful, but cautiously hopeful.
+Soapy had insisted that there was a big thing on, but he had reserved
+his enthusiasm until he should learn the details. The thing, he felt,
+might seem big to Soapy, but to Alexander Twist no things were big
+things unless he could see in advance a substantial profit for A. Twist
+in them.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy, concluding his story, paused for reply. The visitor gave
+his moustache a final twist, and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't get it," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Molloy straightened herself militantly in her chair. Of all
+masculine defects, she liked slowness of wit least; and she had never
+been a great admirer of Mr. Twist.</p>
+
+<p>"You poor, nut-headed swozzie," she said with heat. "What don't you
+get? It's simple enough, isn't it? What's bothering you?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's a catch somewhere. Why isn't this guy Carmody able to sell the
+things?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the law, you poor fish. Soapy explained all that."</p>
+
+<p>"Not to me he didn't," said Chimp. "A lot of words fluttered out of
+him, but they didn't explain anything to me. Do you mean to say there's
+a law in this country that says a man can't sell his own property?"</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't his own property." Dolly's voice was shrill with
+exasperation. "The things belong in the family and have to be kept
+there. Does that penetrate, or have we got to use a steam drill? Listen
+here. Old George W. Ancestor starts one of these English families
+going—way back in the year G.X. something. He says to himself, 'I
+can't last forever, and when I go then what? My son Freddie is a good
+boy, handy with the battle axe and okay at mounting his charger, but
+he's like all the rest of these kids—you can't keep him away from the
+hock shop as long as there's anything in the house he can raise money
+on. It begins to look like the moment I'm gone my collection of old
+antiques can kiss itself good-bye.' And then he gets an idea. He has a
+law passed saying that Freddie can use the stuff as long as he lives
+but he can't sell it. And Freddie, when his time comes, he hands the
+law on to his son Archibald, and so on, down the line till you get to
+this here now Carmody. The only way this Carmody can realize on all
+these things is to sit in with somebody who'll pinch them and then salt
+them away somewheres, so that after the cops are out of the house and
+all the fuss has quieted down they can get together and do a deal."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp's face cleared.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I'm hep," he said. "Now I see what you're driving at. Why couldn't
+Soapy have put it like that before? Well, then, what's the idea? I
+sneak in and swipe the stuff. Then what?"</p>
+
+<p>"You salt it away."</p>
+
+<p>"At Healthward Ho?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said Mrs. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>It would have been difficult to say which spoke with the greater
+emphasis, and the effect was to create a rather embarrassing silence.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't that we don't trust you, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, when this
+silence had lasted some little time.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said Mr. Twist, rather distantly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's simply that this bimbo Carmody naturally don't want the stuff to
+go out of the house. He wants it where he can keep an eye on it."</p>
+
+<p>"How are you going to pinch it without taking it out of the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all been fixed. I was talking to him about it this morning
+after I 'phoned you. Here's the idea. You get the stuff and pack it
+away in a suitcase...."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff that there's only enough of so's you can put it all in a
+suitcase is a hell of a lot of use to anyone," commented Mr. Twist
+disparagingly.</p>
+
+<p>Dolly clutched her temples. Mr. Molloy brushed his hair back from his
+forehead with a despairing gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweet potatoes!" moaned Dolly. "Use your bean, you poor sap, use your
+bean. If you had another brain you'd just have one. A thing hasn't got
+to be the size of the Singer Building to be valuable, has it? I suppose
+if someone offered you a diamond you'd turn it down because it wasn't
+no bigger than a hen's egg."</p>
+
+<p>"Diamond?" Chimp brightened. "Are there diamonds?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, there aren't. But there's pictures and things, any one of them
+worth a packet. Go on, Soapy. Tell him."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy smoothed his hair and addressed himself to his task once
+more.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's like this, Chimpie," he said. "You put the stuff in a
+suitcase and you take it down into the hall where there's a closet
+under the stairs...."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll show you the closet," interjected Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we'll show you the closet," said Mr. Molloy generously. "Well,
+you put the suitcase in this closet and you leave it lay there. The
+idea is that later on I give old man Carmody my cheque and he hands it
+over and we take it away."</p>
+
+<p>"He thinks Soapy owns a museum in America," explained Dolly. "He thinks
+Soapy's got all the money in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, long before the time comes for giving any cheques, we'll
+have got the stuff away."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chimp digested this.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's going to buy it when you do get it away?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, gee!" said Dolly. "You know as well as I do there's dozens of
+people on the other side who'll buy it."</p>
+
+<p>"And how are you going to get it away? If it's in a closet in Carmody's
+house and Carmody has the key...?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now there," said Mr. Molloy, with a deferential glance at his wife, as
+if requesting her permission to re-open a delicate subject, "the madam
+and I had a kind of an argument. I wanted to wait till a chance came
+along sort of natural, but Dolly's all for quick action. You know what
+women are. Impetuous."</p>
+
+<p>"If you'd care to know what we're going to do," said Mrs. Molloy
+definitely, "we're not going to hang around waiting for any chances to
+come along sort of natural. We're going to slip a couple of knock-out
+drops in old man Carmody's port one night after dinner and clear out
+with the stuff while...."</p>
+
+<p>"Knock-out drops?" said Chimp, impressed. "Have you got any knock-out
+drops?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we've got knock-out drops. Soapy never travels without them."</p>
+
+<p>"The madam always packs them in their little bottle first thing
+before even my clean collars," said Mr. Molloy proudly. "So you see,
+everything's all arranged, Chimpie."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah?" said Mr. Twist, "and how about me?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean, how about you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me," pointed out Mr. Twist, eyeing his business partner in
+rather an unpleasant manner with his beady little eyes, "that you're
+asking me to take a pretty big chance. While you're doping the old man
+I'll be twenty miles away at Healthward Ho. How am I to know you won't
+go off with the stuff and leave me to whistle for my share?"</p>
+
+<p>It is only occasionally that one sees a man who cannot believe his
+ears, but anybody who had been in Mr. Carmody's study at this moment
+would have been able to enjoy that interesting experience. A long
+moment of stunned and horrified amazement passed before Mr. Molloy was
+able to decide that he really had heard correctly.</p>
+
+<p>"Chimpie! You don't suppose we'd double-cross you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ee-magine!" said Mrs. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mind you don't," said Mr. Twist coldly. "But you can't say I'm
+not taking a chance. And now, talking turkey for a moment, how do we
+share?"</p>
+
+<p>"Equal shares, of course, Chimpie."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean half for me and half for you and Dolly?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy winced as if the mere suggestion had touched an exposed
+nerve.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no, Chimpie! You get a third, I get a third, and the madam
+gets a third."</p>
+
+<p>"Not on your life!"</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not on your life. What do you think I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. Molloy acidly. "But, whatever it is, you're
+the only one of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is so."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, now, now," said Mr. Molloy, intervening. "Let's not get personal.
+I can't figure this thing out, Chimpie. I can't see where your kick
+comes in. You surely aren't suggesting that you should ought to have as
+much as I and the wife put together?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not. I'm suggesting I ought to have more."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sixty-forty's my terms."</p>
+
+<p>A feverish cry rang through the room, a cry that came straight from a
+suffering heart. The temperamental Mrs. Molloy was very near the point
+past which a sensitive woman cannot be pushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Every time we get together on one of these jobs," she said, with deep
+emotion, "we always have this same fuss about the divvying up. Just
+when everything looks nice and settled you start this thing of trying
+to hand I and Soapy the nub end of the deal. What's the matter with you
+that you always want the earth? Be human, why can't you, you poor lump
+of Camembert."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm human all right."</p>
+
+<p>"You've got to prove it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you say I'm not human?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, look in the glass and see for yourself," said Mrs. Molloy
+offensively.</p>
+
+<p>The pacific Mr. Molloy felt it time to call the meeting to order once
+more.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, now, now! All this isn't getting us anywheres. Let's stick to
+business. Where do you get that sixty-forty stuff, Chimp?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you where I get it. I'm going into this thing as a favour,
+aren't I? There's no need for me to sit in at this game at all, is
+there? I've got a good, flourishing, respectable business of my own,
+haven't I? A business that's on the level. Well, then."</p>
+
+<p>Dolly sniffed. Her husband's soothing intervention had failed signally
+to diminish her animosity.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what your idea was in starting that Healthward Ho
+joint," she said, "but I'll bet my diamond sunburst it isn't on the
+level."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly it's on the level. A man with brains can always make a good
+living without descending to anything low and crooked. That's why I say
+that if I go into this thing it will simply be because I want to do a
+favour to two old friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Old what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Friends was what I said," repeated Mr. Twist. "If you don't like my
+terms, say so and we'll call the deal off. It'll be all right by me.
+I'll simply get along back to Healthward Ho and go on running my good,
+flourishing, respectable business. Come to think of it, I'm not any too
+solid on this thing, anyway. I was walking in my garden this morning
+and a magpie come up to me as close as that."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Molloy expressed the view that this was tough on the magpie, but
+wanted to know what the bird's misfortune in finding itself so close to
+Mr. Twist that it could not avoid taking a good, square look at him had
+to do with the case.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm superstitious, same as everyone else. I saw the new moon
+through the glass, what's more."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stop stringing the beads and talk sense," said Dolly wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm talking sense all right. Sixty per cent. or I don't come in. You
+wouldn't have asked me to come in if you could have done without me.
+Think I don't know that? Sixty's moderate. I'm doing all the hard work,
+aren't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hard work?" Dolly laughed bitterly. "Where do you get the idea it's
+going to be hard work? Everybody'll be out of the house on the night
+of this concert thing they're having down in the village, there'll be
+a window left open, and you'll just walk in and pack up the stuff. If
+that's hard, what's easy? We're simply handing you slathers of money
+for practically doing nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Sixty," said Mr. Twist. "And that's my last word."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Chimpie ..." pleaded Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sixty."</p>
+
+<p>"Have a heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sixty."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't as though ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Sixty."</p>
+
+<p>Dolly threw up her hands despairingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, give it him," she said. "He won't be happy if you don't. If a
+guy's middle name is Shylock, where's the use wasting time trying to do
+anything about it?"</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Molloy's prediction that on the night of Rudge's annual dramatic
+and musical entertainment the Hall would be completely emptied of its
+occupants was not, as it happened, literally fulfilled. A wanderer
+through the stable yard at about the hour of ten would have perceived a
+light in an upper window: and had he taken the trouble to get a ladder
+and climb up and look in would have beheld John Carroll seated at his
+table, busy with a pile of accounts.</p>
+
+<p>In an age so notoriously avid of pleasure as the one in which we live
+it is rare to find a young man of such sterling character that he
+voluntarily absents himself from a village concert in order to sit at
+home and work: and, contemplating John, one feels quite a glow. It was
+not as if he had been unaware of what he was missing. The vicar, he
+knew, was to open the proceedings with a short address: the choir would
+sing old English glees: the Misses Vivien and Alice Pond-Pond were down
+on the programme for refined coon songs: and, in addition to other
+items too numerous and fascinating to mention, Hugo Carmody and his
+friend Mr. Fish would positively appear in person and render that noble
+example of Shakespeare's genius, the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i>.
+Yet John Carroll sat in his room, working. England's future cannot be
+so dubious as the pessimists would have us believe while her younger
+generation is made of stuff like this.</p>
+
+<p>John was finding in his work these days a good deal of consolation.
+There is probably no better corrective of the pangs of hopeless love
+than real, steady application to the prosaic details of an estate. The
+heart finds it difficult to ache its hardest while the mind is busy
+with such items as Sixty-one pounds, eight shillings and fivepence, due
+to Messrs. Truby and Gaunt for Fixing Gas Engine, or the claim of the
+Country Gentlemen's Association for eight pounds eight and fourpence
+for seeds. Add drains, manure, and feed of pigs, and you find yourself
+immediately in an atmosphere where Romeo himself would have let his
+mind wander. John, as he worked, was conscious of a distinct easing of
+the strain which had been on him since his return to the Hall. And if
+at intervals he allowed his eyes to stray to the photograph of Pat on
+the mantelpiece, that was the sort of thing that might happen to any
+young man, and could not be helped.</p>
+
+<p>It was seldom that visitors penetrated to this room of his—indeed, he
+had chosen to live above the stables in preference to inside the house
+for this very reason, and on Rudge's big night he had looked forward to
+an unbroken solitude. He was surprised, therefore, as he checked the
+account of the Messrs. Vanderschoot &amp; Son for bulbs, to hear footsteps
+on the stairs. A moment later, the door had opened and Hugo walked in.</p>
+
+<p>John's first impulse, as always when his cousin paid him a visit, was
+to tell him to get out. People who, when they saw Hugo, immediately
+told him to get out generally had the comfortable feeling that they
+were doing the right and sensible thing. But to-night there was in his
+demeanour something so crushed and forlorn that John had not the heart
+to pursue this admirable policy.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo," he said. "I thought you were down at the concert."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo uttered a short, bitter laugh, and, sinking into a chair, stared
+bleakly before him. His eyelids, like those of the Mona Lisa, were a
+little weary. He looked like the hero of a Russian novel debating the
+advisability of murdering a few near relations before hanging himself
+in the barn.</p>
+
+<p>"I was," he said. "Oh yes, I was down at the concert all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you done your bit already?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have. They put Ronnie and me on just after the Vicar's Short
+Address."</p>
+
+<p>"Wanted to get the worst over quick, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo raised a protesting hand. There was infinite sadness in the
+gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mock, John. Don't jeer. Don't jibe and scoff. I'm a broken man."</p>
+
+<p>"Only cracked, I should have said."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was not attuned to cousinly badinage. He frowned austerely.</p>
+
+<p>"Less back-chat," he begged. "I came here for sympathy. And a drink.
+Have you got anything to drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's some whisky in that cupboard."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo heaved himself from the chair, looking more Russian than ever.
+John watched his operations with some concern.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you mixing it pretty strong?"</p>
+
+<p>"I need it strong." The unhappy man emptied his glass, refilled it, and
+returned to the chair. "In fact, it's a point verging very much on the
+moot whether I ought to have put any water in it at all."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"This isn't bad whisky," said Hugo, becoming a little brighter.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it isn't. What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>The momentary flicker of cheerfulness died out. Gloom once more claimed
+Hugo for its own.</p>
+
+<p>"John, old man," he said. "We got the bird."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say 'Yes?' like that, as if you had expected it," said Hugo,
+hurt. "The thing came on me as a stunning blow. I was amazed.
+Astounded. Absolutely nonplussed."</p>
+
+<p>"Could I have knocked you down with a feather?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought we were going to be a riot. Of course, mind you, we came on
+much too early. It was criminal to bill us next to opening. An audience
+needs careful warming up for an intellectual act like ours!"</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo rose and renewed the contents of his glass.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a spirit creeping into the life of Rudge-in-the-Vale," he
+said, "which I don't like to see. A spirit of lawlessness and licence.
+Disruptive influences are at work. Bolshevik propaganda, I shouldn't
+wonder. Would a Rudge audience have given me the bird a few years ago?
+Not a chance!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you've never tried them with the Quarrel Scene from <i>Julius Cæsar</i>
+before. Everybody has a breaking point."</p>
+
+<p>The argument was specious, but Hugo shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"In the good old days I could have done Hamlet's Soliloquy, and
+the hall would have rung with hearty cheers. It's just this modern
+lawlessness and Bolshevism. There was a very tough collection of the
+Budd Street element standing at the back, who should never have been
+let in. They started straight away chi-yiking the vicar during his
+short address. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I merely
+supposed that they wanted him to cheese it and let the entertainment
+start. I thought that directly Ronnie and I came on we should grip
+them. But we were barely a third of the way through when there were
+loud cries of 'Tripe!' and 'Get off!'"</p>
+
+<p>"I see what that meant. You hadn't gripped them."</p>
+
+<p>"I was never so surprised in my life. Mark you, I'll admit that
+Ronnie was perfectly rotten. He kept foozling his lines and saying
+'Oh, sorry!' and going back and repeating them. You can't get the
+best out of Shakespeare that way. The fact is, poor old Ronnie is
+feeling a little low just now. He got a letter this morning from his
+man, Bessemer, in London, a fellow who has been with him for years
+and has few equals as a trouser presser, springing the news out of an
+absolutely clear sky that he's been secretly engaged for weeks and is
+just going to get married and leave Ronnie. Naturally, it has upset the
+poor chap badly. With a thing like that on his mind, he should never
+have attempted an exacting part like Brutus in the Quarrel Scene."</p>
+
+<p>"Just what the audience thought, apparently. What happened after that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we buzzed along as well as we could, and we had just got to that
+bit about digesting the venom of your spleen though it do split you,
+when the proletariat suddenly started bunging vegetables."</p>
+
+<p>"Vegetables?"</p>
+
+<p>"Turnips, mostly, as far as I could gather. Now, do you see the
+significance of that, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean, the significance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, obviously these blighters had come prepared. They had meant to
+make trouble right along. If not, why would they have come to a concert
+with their pockets bulging with turnips?"</p>
+
+<p>"They probably knew by instinct that they would need them."</p>
+
+<p>"No! It was simply this bally Bolshevism one reads so much about."</p>
+
+<p>"You think these men were in the pay of Moscow?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't wonder. Well, that took us off. Ronnie got rather a beefy
+whack on the side of the head and exited rapidly. And I wasn't going to
+stand out there doing the Quarrel Scene by myself, so I exited, too.
+The last I saw, Chas. Bywater had gone on and was telling Irish dialect
+stories with a Swedish accent."</p>
+
+<p>"Did they throw turnips at him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not one. That's the sinister part of it. That's what makes me so sure
+the thing was an organized outbreak and all part of this Class War you
+hear about. Chas. Bywater, in spite of the fact that his material was
+blue round the edges, goes like a breeze, and gets off without a single
+turnip, whereas Ronnie and I ... well," said Hugo, a hideous grimness
+in his voice, "this has settled one thing. I've performed for the last
+time for Rudge-in-the-Vale. Next year when they may come to me, and
+plead with me to help out with the programme, I shall reply, 'Not after
+what has occurred!' Well, thanks for the drink. I'll be buzzing along."
+Hugo rose and wandered somnambulistically to the table. "What are you
+doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Working."</p>
+
+<p>"Working?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, working."</p>
+
+<p>"What at?"</p>
+
+<p>"Accounts. Stop fiddling with those papers, curse you."</p>
+
+<p>"What's this thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"That," said John, removing it from his listless grasp and putting it
+out of reach in a drawer, "is the diagram of a thing called an Alpha
+Separator. It works by centrifugal force and can separate two thousand
+seven hundred and twenty-four quarts of milk in an hour. It has also
+a Holstein butter-churner attachment, and a boiler which at seventy
+degrees centigrade destroys the obligatory and optional bacteria."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?</p>
+
+<p>"Positively."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? Well, damn it, anyway," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>Hugo crossed the strip of gravel which lay between the stable yard and
+the house, and, having found in his trouser pocket the key of the back
+door, proceeded to let himself in. His objective was the dining room.
+He was feeling so much better after the refreshment of which he had
+just partaken that reason told him he had found the right treatment for
+his complaint. A few more swift ones from the cellarette in the dining
+room and the depression caused by the despicable behaviour of the Budd
+Street Bolshevists might possibly leave him altogether.</p>
+
+<p>The passage leading to his goal was in darkness, but he moved steadily
+forward. Occasionally a chair would dart from its place to crack him
+over the shin, but he was not to be kept from the cellarette by trifles
+like that. Soon his fingers were on the handle of the door, and he
+flung it open and entered. And it was at this moment that there came to
+his ears an odd noise.</p>
+
+<p>It was not the noise itself that was odd. Feet scraping on gravel
+always make that unmistakable sound. What impressed itself on Hugo
+as curious was the fact that on the gravel outside the dining-room
+window, feet at this hour should be scraping at all. His hand had been
+outstretched to switch on the light, but now he paused. He waited,
+listening. And presently in the oblong of the middle of the three large
+windows he saw dimly against the lesser darkness outside a human body.
+It was insinuating itself through the opening and what Hugo felt about
+it was that he liked its dashed nerve.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo Carmody was no poltroon. Both physically and morally he possessed
+more than the normal store of courage. At Cambridge he had boxed for
+his university in the light-weight division and once, in London, the
+petty cash having run short, he had tipped a hat-check boy with an
+aspirin tablet. Moreover, although it was his impression that the few
+drops of whisky which he had drunk in John's room had but scratched
+the surface, their effect in reality had been rather pronounced. "In
+some diatheses," an eminent physician has laid down, "whisky is not
+immediately pathogenic. In other cases the spirit in question produces
+marked cachexia." Hugo's cachexia was very marked indeed. He would
+have resented keenly the suggestion that he was fried, boiled, or even
+sozzled, but he was unquestionably in a definite condition of cachexia.</p>
+
+<p>In a situation, accordingly, in which many householders might have
+quailed, he was filled with gay exhilaration. He felt able and willing
+to chew the head off any burglar that ever packed a centrebit. Glowing
+with cachexia and the spirit of adventure, he switched on the light
+and found himself standing face to face with a small, weedy man beneath
+whose snub nose there nestled a waxed moustache.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand ho!" said Hugo jubilantly, falling at once into the vein of the
+Quarrel Scene.</p>
+
+<p>In the bosom of the intruder many emotions were competing for
+precedence, but jubilation was not one of them. If Mr. Twist had had
+a weak heart, he would by now have been lying on the floor breathing
+his last, for few people can ever have had a nastier shock. He stood
+congealed, blinking at Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo, meanwhile, had made the interesting discovery that it was no
+stranger who stood before him but an old acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Scot!" he exclaimed. "Old Doc. Twist! The beautiful,
+tranquil-thoughts bird!" He chuckled joyously. His was a retentive
+memory, and he could never forget that this man had once come within an
+ace of ruining that big deal in cigarettes over at Healthward Ho, and
+had also callously refused to lend him a tenner. Of such a man he could
+believe anything, even that he combined with the duties of a physical
+culture expert a little housebreaking and burglary on the side. "Well,
+well, well!" said Hugo. "Remember March, the Ides of March remember!
+Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his
+body that did stab and not for justice? Answer me that, you blighter,
+yes or no."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp Twist licked his lips nervously. He was a little uncertain as to
+the exact import of his companion's last words, but almost any words
+would have found in him at this moment a distrait listener.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes!" said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp could have done the same. With an intense bitterness he was
+regretting that he had ever allowed Mr. Molloy to persuade him into
+this rash venture. But he was a man of resource. He made an effort to
+mend matters. Soapy, in a similar situation, would have done it better,
+but Chimp, though not possessing his old friend's glib tongue and
+insinuating manners, did the best he could. "You startled me," he said,
+smiling a sickly smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I bet I did," agreed Hugo cordially.</p>
+
+<p>"I came to see your uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"You what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came to see your uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Twist, you lie! And, what is more, you lie in your teeth."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, see here...!" began Chimp, with a feeble attempt at belligerence.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo checked him with a gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am armed so
+strong in honesty that they pass by me like the idle wind, which I
+respect not. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be
+frightened when a madman stares? By the gods, you shall digest the
+venom of your spleen though it do split you. And what could be fairer
+than that?" said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist was discouraged, but he persevered.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess it looked funny to you, seeing me come in through a window.
+But, you see, I rang the front door bell and couldn't seem to make
+anyone hear."</p>
+
+<p>"Away, slight man!"</p>
+
+<p>"You want me to go away?" said Mr. Twist, with a gleam of hope.</p>
+
+<p>"You stay where you are, unless you'd like me to lean a decanter of the
+best port up against your head," said Hugo. "And don't flicker," he
+added, awakening to another grievance against this unpleasant little
+man.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't what?" inquired Mr. Twist, puzzled but anxious to oblige.</p>
+
+<p>"Flicker. Your outline keeps wobbling, and I don't like it. And there's
+another thing about you that I don't like. I've forgotten what it is
+for the moment, but it'll come back to me soon."</p>
+
+<p>He frowned darkly: and for the first time it was borne in upon Mr.
+Twist that his young host was not altogether himself. There was a gleam
+in his eyes which, in Mr. Twist's opinion, was far too wild to be
+agreeable.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," said Hugo, having reflected. "It's your moustache."</p>
+
+<p>"My moustache?"</p>
+
+<p>"Or whatever it is that's broken out on your upper lip. I dislike it
+intensely. When Cæsar lived," said Hugo querulously, "he durst not thus
+have moved me. And the worst thing of all is that you should have taken
+a quiet, harmless country house and called it such a beastly, repulsive
+name as Healthward Ho. Great Scot!" exclaimed Hugo. "I knew there was
+something I was forgetting. All this while you ought to have been doing
+bending and stretching exercises!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your uncle, I guess, is still down at the concert thing in the
+village?" said Mr. Twist, weakly endeavouring to change the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo started. A look of the keenest suspicion flashed into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Were you at that concert?" he said sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"Me? No."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure, Twist? Look me in the face."</p>
+
+<p>"I've never been near any concert."</p>
+
+<p>"I strongly suspect you," said Hugo, "of being one of the ringleaders
+in that concerted plot to give me the bird. I think I recognized you."</p>
+
+<p>"Not me."</p>
+
+<p>"You're sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? Well, that doesn't alter the cardinal fact that you are the
+bloke who makes poor, unfortunate fat men do bending and stretching
+exercises. So do a few now yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bend!" said Hugo. "Stretch!"</p>
+
+<p>"Stretch?"</p>
+
+<p>"And bend," said Hugo, insisting on full measure. "First bend, then
+stretch. Let me see your chest expand and hear the tinkle of buttons as
+you burst your waistcoat asunder."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist was now definitely of opinion that the gleam in the young
+man's eyes was one of the most unpleasant and menacing things he had
+ever encountered. Transferring his gaze from this gleam to the other's
+well-knit frame, he decided that he was in the presence of one who,
+whether his singular request was due to weakness of intellect or to
+alcohol, had best be humoured.</p>
+
+<p>"Get on with it," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>He settled himself in a chair and lighted a cigarette. His whole
+manner was suggestive of the blasé nonchalance of a sultan about to
+be entertained by the court acrobat. But, though his bearing was
+nonchalant, that gleam was still in his eyes, and Chimp Twist hesitated
+no longer. He bent, as requested—and then, having bent, stretched. For
+some moments he jerked his limbs painfully in this direction and in
+that, while Hugo, puffing smoke, surveyed him with languid appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tie yourself into a reefer knot," said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp gritted his teeth. A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering
+happier things, and there came back to him the recollection of mornings
+when he had stood at his window and laughed heartily at the spectacle
+of his patients at Healthward Ho being hounded on to these very
+movements by the vigilant Sergeant Flannery. How little he had supposed
+that there would ever come a time when he would be compelled himself to
+perform these exercises. And how little he had guessed at the hideous
+discomfort which they could cause to a man who had let his body muscles
+grow stiff.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait," said Hugo, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist was glad to do so. He straightened himself, breathing heavily.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you thinking beautiful thoughts?"</p>
+
+<p>Chimp Twist gulped. "Yes," he said, with a strong effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Beautiful, tranquil thoughts?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then carry on."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp resumed his calisthenics. He was aching in every joint now, but
+into his discomfort there had shot a faint gleam of hope. Everything in
+this world has its drawbacks and its advantages. With the drawbacks to
+his present situation he had instantly become acquainted, but now at
+last one advantage presented itself to his notice—the fact, to wit,
+that the staggerings and totterings inseparable from a performance
+of the kind with which he was entertaining his limited but critical
+audience had brought him very near to the open window.</p>
+
+<p>"How are the thoughts?" asked Hugo. "Still beautiful?"</p>
+
+<p>Chimp said they were, and he spoke sincerely. He had contrived to put
+a space of several feet between himself and his persecutor, and the
+window gaped invitingly almost at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"Yours," said Hugo, puffing smoke meditatively, "has been a very happy
+life, Twist. Day after day you have had the privilege of seeing my
+uncle Lester doing just what you're doing now, and it must have beaten
+a circus hollow. It's funny enough even when you do it, and you haven't
+anything like his personality and appeal. If you could see what a
+priceless ass you look it would keep you giggling for weeks. I know,"
+said Hugo, receiving an inspiration; "do the one where you touch your
+toes without bending the knees."</p>
+
+<p>In all human affairs the semblance of any given thing is bound to vary
+considerably with the point of view. To Chimp Twist, as he endeavoured
+to comply with this request, it seemed incredible that what he was
+doing could strike anyone as humorous. To Hugo, on the other hand,
+it appeared as if the entertainment had now reached its apex of
+wholesome fun. As Mr. Twist's purple face came up for the third time,
+he abandoned himself whole-heartedly to mirth. He rocked in his chair,
+and, rashly trying to inhale cigarette smoke at the same time, found
+himself suddenly overcome by a paroxysm of coughing.</p>
+
+<p>It was the moment for which Chimp Twist had been waiting. There is,
+as Ronnie Fish would have observed in the village hall an hour or so
+earlier if the audience had had the self-restraint to let him get as
+far as that, a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood,
+leads on to fortune. Chimp did not neglect the opportunity which
+Fate had granted him. With an agile bound he was at the window, and,
+rendered supple, no doubt, by his recent exercises, leaped smartly
+through it.</p>
+
+<p>He descended heavily on the dog Emily. Emily, wandering out for a
+last stroll before turning in, had just paused beneath the window to
+investigate a smell which had been called to her attention on the
+gravel. She was trying to make up her mind whether it was rats or the
+ghost of a long-lost bone when the skies suddenly started raining heavy
+bodies on her.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">V</p>
+
+<p>Emily was a dog who, as a rule, took things as they came, her guiding
+motto in life being the old Horatian <i>nil admirari</i>, but she could
+lose her poise. She lost it now. A startled oath escaped her, and
+for a brief instant she was completely unequal to the situation. In
+this instant, Chimp, equally startled but far too busy to stop, had
+disengaged himself and was vanishing into the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Hugo came through the window. His coughing fit had spent
+itself, and he was now in good voice again. He was shouting.</p>
+
+<p>At once Emily became herself again. All her sporting blood stirred in
+answer to these shouts. She forgot her agony. Her sense of grievance
+left her. Recognizing Hugo, she saw all things clearly, and realized
+in a flash that here at last was the burglar for whom she had been
+waiting ever since her conversation with that wire-haired terrier over
+at Webleigh Manor.</p>
+
+<p>John had taken her to lunch there one day and, fraternizing with
+the Webleigh dog under the table, she had immediately noticed in
+his manner something aloof and distinctly patronizing. It had then
+come out in conversation that they had had a burglary at the Manor
+a couple of nights ago, and the wire-haired terrier, according to
+his own story, had been the hero of the occasion. He spoke with an
+ill-assumed offhandedness of barking and bitings and chasings in the
+night, and, though he did not say it in so many words, gave Emily
+plainly to understand that it took an unusual dog to grapple with such
+a situation, and that in a similar crisis she herself would inevitably
+be found wanting. Ever since that day she had been longing for a chance
+to show her mettle, and now it had come. Calling instructions in a high
+voice, she raced for the bushes into which Chimp had disappeared. Hugo,
+a bad third, brought up the rear of the procession.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp, meanwhile, had been combining with swift movement some very
+rapid thinking. Fortune had been with him in the first moments of this
+dash for safety, but now, he considered, it had abandoned him, and he
+must trust to his native intelligence to see him through. He had not
+anticipated dogs. Dogs altered the whole complexion of the affair. To
+a go-as-you-please race across country with Hugo he would have trusted
+himself, but Hugo in collaboration with a dog was another matter. It
+became now a question not of speed but of craft; and he looked about
+him, as he ran, for a hiding place, for some shelter from this canine
+and human storm which he had unwittingly aroused.</p>
+
+<p>And Fortune, changing sides again, smiled upon him once more. Emily,
+who had been coming nicely, attempted very injudiciously at this
+moment to take a short cut and became involved in a bush. And Chimp,
+accelerating an always active brain, perceived a way out. There was a
+low stone wall immediately in front of him, and beyond it, as he came
+up, he saw the dull gleam of water.</p>
+
+<p>It was not an ideal haven, but he was in no position to pick and
+choose. The interior of the tank from which the gardeners drew
+ammunition for their watering cans had, for one who from childhood had
+always disliked bathing, a singularly repellent air. Those dark, oily
+looking depths suggested the presence of frogs, newts, and other slimy
+things that work their way down a man's back and behave clammily around
+his spine. But it was most certainly a place of refuge.</p>
+
+<p>He looked over his shoulder. An agitated crackling of branches
+announced that Emily had not yet worked clear, and Hugo had apparently
+stopped to render first aid. With a silent shudder Chimp stepped into
+the tank and, lowering himself into the depths, nestled behind a water
+lily.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was finding the task of extricating Emily more difficult than he
+had anticipated. The bush was one of those thorny, adhesive bushes, and
+it twined itself lovingly in Emily's hair. Bad feeling began to rise,
+and the conversation took on an acrimonious tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand still!" growled Hugo. "Stand still, you blighter dog."</p>
+
+<p>"Push," retorted Emily. "Push, I tell you! Push, not pull. Don't you
+realize that all the while we're wasting time here that fellow's
+getting away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't wriggle, confound you. How can I get you out if you keep
+wriggling?"</p>
+
+<p>"Try a lift in an upward direction. No, that's no good. Stop pushing
+and pull. Pull, I tell you. Pull not push. Now, when I say '<i>To</i>
+you ...'"</p>
+
+<p>Something gave. Hugo staggered back. Emily sprang from his grasp. The
+chase was on again.</p>
+
+<p>But now all the zest had gone out of it. The operations in the bush
+had occupied only a bare couple of minutes, but they had been enough
+to allow the quarry to vanish. He had completely disappeared. Hugo,
+sitting on the wall of the tank and trying to recover his breath,
+watched Emily as she darted to and fro, inspecting paths and drawing
+shrubberies, and knew that he had failed. It was a bitter moment, and
+he sat and smoked moodily. Presently even Emily gave the thing up. She
+came back to where Hugo sat, her tongue lolling, and disgust written
+all over her expressive features. There was a silence. Emily thought
+it was all Hugo's fault, Hugo thought it was Emily's. A stiffness had
+crept into their relations once again, and when at length Hugo, feeling
+a little more benevolent after three cigarettes, reached down and
+scratched Emily's head, the latter drew away coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn fool!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo started. Was it some sound, some distant stealthy footstep, that
+had caused his companion to speak? He stared into the night.</p>
+
+<p>"Fat head!" said Emily. "Can't even pull somebody out of a bush."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed mirthlessly, and Hugo, now keenly on the alert, rose from
+his seat and gazed this way and that. And then, moving softly away from
+him at the end of the path, he saw a dark figure.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly, Hugo Carmody became once more the man of action. With a
+stern shout he dashed along the path. And he had not gone half a dozen
+feet when the ground seemed suddenly to give way under him.</p>
+
+<p>This path, as he should have remembered, knowing the terrain as he
+did, was a terrace path, set high above the shrubberies below. It was
+a simple enough matter to negotiate it in daylight and at a gentle
+stroll, but to race successfully along it in the dark required a
+Blondin. Hugo's third stride took him well into the abyss. He clutched
+out desperately, grasped only cool Worcestershire night air, and then,
+rolling down the slope, struck his head with great violence against a
+tree which seemed to have been put there for the purpose.</p>
+
+<p>When the sparks had cleared away and the firework exhibition was over,
+he rose painfully to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>A voice was speaking from above—the voice of Ronald Overbury Fish.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" said the voice. "What's up?"</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">VI</p>
+
+<p>Weighed down by the burden of his many sorrows, Ronnie Fish had come
+to this terrace path to be alone. Solitude was what he desired, and
+solitude was what he supposed he had got until, abruptly, without any
+warning but a wild shout, the companion of his school and university
+days had suddenly dashed out from empty space and apparently attempted
+to commit suicide. Ronnie was surprised. Naturally no fellow likes
+getting the bird at a village concert, but Hugo, he considered, in
+trying to kill himself was adopting extreme measures. He peered down,
+going so far in his natural emotion as to remove the cigarette holder
+from his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up?" he asked again.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was struggling dazedly up the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Was that you, Ronnie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Was what me?"</p>
+
+<p>"That."</p>
+
+<p>"Which?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo approached the matter from another angle.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see anyone?"</p>
+
+<p>"When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just now. I thought I saw someone on the path. It must have been you."</p>
+
+<p>"It was. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it was somebody else."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it wasn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, but I thought it was."</p>
+
+<p>"Who did you think it was?"</p>
+
+<p>"A fellow called Twist."</p>
+
+<p>"Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Twist."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been chasing him."</p>
+
+<p>"Chasing Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I caught him burgling the house."</p>
+
+<p>They had been walking along, and now reached a spot where the light,
+freed from overhanging branches, was stronger. Mr. Fish became aware
+that his friend had sustained injuries.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," he said, "you've hurt your head."</p>
+
+<p>"I know I've hurt my head, you silly ass."</p>
+
+<p>"It's bleeding, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Bleeding?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bleeding."</p>
+
+<p>Blood is always interesting. Hugo put a hand to his wound, took it away
+again, inspected it.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove! I'm bleeding."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, bleeding. You'd better go in and have it seen to."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Hugo reflected. "I'll go and get old John to fix it. He once put
+six stitches in a cow."</p>
+
+<p>"What cow?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the cows. I forget its name."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do we find this John?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's in his room over the stables."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you walk it all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, rather,"</p>
+
+<p>Ronnie, relieved, lighted a cigarette, and approached an aspect of the
+affair which had been giving him food for thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Hugo, have you been having a few drinks or anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, buzzing about the place after non-existent burglars."</p>
+
+<p>"They weren't non-existent. I tell you I caught this man Twist...."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know it was Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've met him."</p>
+
+<p>"Who? Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"He runs a place called Healthward Ho near here."</p>
+
+<p>"What's Healthward Ho?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a place where fellows go to get fit. My uncle was there."</p>
+
+<p>"And Twist runs it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And you think this—dash it, this pillar of society was burgling the
+house?"</p>
+
+<p>"I caught him, I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Who? Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, where is he, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, old man," said Ronnie gently. "I think you'd better be pushing
+along and getting that bulb of yours repaired."</p>
+
+<p>He remained gazing after his friend, as he disappeared in the direction
+of the stable yard, with much concern. He hated to think of good old
+Hugo getting into a mental state like this, though, of course, it was
+only what you could expect if a man lived in the country all the time.
+He was still brooding when he heard footsteps behind him and looked
+round and saw Mr. Lester Carmody approaching.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody was in a condition which in a slimmer man might have
+been called fluttering. He, like John, had absented himself from the
+festivities in the village, wishing to be on the spot when Mr. Twist
+made his entry into the house. He had seen Chimp get through the
+dining-room window and had instantly made his way to the front hall,
+proposing to wait there and see the precious suitcase duly deposited
+in the cupboard under the stairs. He had waited, but no Chimp had
+appeared. And then there had come to his ears barkings and shoutings
+and uproar in the night. Mr. Carmody, like Othello, was perplexed in
+the extreme.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Carmody," said Mr. Fish.</p>
+
+<p>He waved a kindly cigarette holder at his host. The latter regarded
+him with tense apprehension. Was his guest about to announce that
+Mr. Twist, caught in the act, was now under lock and key? For some
+reason or other, it was plain, Hugo and this unspeakable friend of his
+had returned at an unexpectedly early hour from the village, and Mr.
+Carmody feared the worst.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a bit of bad news for you, Carmody," said Mr. Fish. "Brace
+up, my dear fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody gulped.</p>
+
+<p>"What—what—what...."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor old Hugo. Gone clean off his mental axis."</p>
+
+<p>"What! What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I found him just now running round in circles and dashing his head
+against trees. He said he was chasing a burglar. Of course there wasn't
+anything of the sort on the premises. For, mark this, my dear Carmody:
+according to his statement, which I carefully checked, the burglar was
+a most respectable fellow named Twist, who runs a sort of health place
+near here. You know him, I believe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Slightly," said Mr. Carmody. "Slightly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, would a man in that position go about burgling houses? Pure
+delusion, of course."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody breathed a deep sigh. Relief had made him feel a little
+faint.</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly," he said. "Hugo was always weak-minded from a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," said Mr. Fish, "did you by any chance get up at five in
+the morning the other day and climb a ladder to look for swallows'
+nests?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought as much. Hugo said he saw you. Delusion again. The whole
+truth of the matter is, my dear Carmody, living in the country has
+begun to soften poor old Hugo's brain. You must act swiftly. You don't
+want a gibbering nephew about the place. Take my tip and send him away
+to London at the earliest possible moment."</p>
+
+<p>It was rare for Lester Carmody to feel gratitude for the advice
+which this young man gave him so freely, but he was grateful now. He
+perceived clearly that a venture like the one on which he and his
+colleagues had embarked should never have been undertaken while the
+house was full of infernal, interfering young men. Such was his emotion
+that for an instant he almost liked Mr. Fish.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo was saying that you wished him to become your partner in some
+commercial enterprise," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"A night club. The Hot Spot. Situated just off Bond Street, in the
+heart of London's pleasure-seeking area."</p>
+
+<p>"You were going to give him a half share for five hundred pounds, I
+believe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Five hundred was the figure."</p>
+
+<p>"He shall have the cheque immediately," said Mr. Carmody. "I will go
+and write it now. And to-morrow you shall take him to London. The best
+trains are in the morning. I quite agree with you about his mental
+condition. I am very much obliged to you for drawing it to my notice."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mention it, Carmody," said Mr. Fish graciously. "Only too glad,
+my dear fellow. Always a pleasure, always a pleasure."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">VII</p>
+
+<p>John had returned to his work and was deep in it when Hugo and his
+wounded head crossed his threshold. He was startled and concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" he cried. "What's been happening?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fell down a bank and bumped the old lemon against a tree," said Hugo,
+with the quiet pride of a man who has had an accident. "I looked in to
+see if you had got some glue or something to stick it up with."</p>
+
+<p>John, as became one who thought nothing of putting stitches in cows,
+exhibited a cool efficiency. He bustled about, found water and cotton
+wool and iodine, and threw in sympathy as a make-weight. Only when the
+operation was completed did he give way to a natural curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"How did it happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it started when I found that bounder Twist burgling the house."</p>
+
+<p>"Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Twist. The Healthward Ho bird."</p>
+
+<p>"You found Doctor Twist burgling the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and I made him do bending and stretching exercises. And in the
+middle he legged it through the window, and Emily and I chivvied him
+about the garden. Then he disappeared, and I saw him again at the end
+of that path above the shrubberies, and I dashed after him and took a
+toss and it wasn't Twist at all, it was Ronnie."</p>
+
+<p>John forbore to ask further questions. This incoherent tale satisfied
+him that his cousin, if not delirious, was certainly on the borderland.
+He remembered the whole-heartedness with which Hugo had drowned his
+sorrows only a short while back in this very room, and he was satisfied
+that what the other needed was rest.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better go to bed," he said. "I think I've fixed you up pretty
+well, but perhaps you had better see the doctor to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Doc. Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not Doctor Twist," said John soothingly. "Doctor Bain, down in the
+village."</p>
+
+<p>"Something ought to be done about the man Twist," argued Hugo.
+"Somebody ought to pop it across him."</p>
+
+<p>"If I were you I'd just forget all about Twist. Put him right out of
+your mind."</p>
+
+<p>"But are we going to sit still and let perishers with waxed moustaches
+burgle the house whenever they feel inclined and not do a thing to
+bring their gray hairs in sorrow to the grave?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, I'd just go off and have a
+nice long sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo raised his eyebrows, and, finding that the process caused
+exquisite agony to his wounded head, quickly lowered them again. He
+looked at John with cold disapproval, pained at this evidence of
+supineness in a member of a proud family.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" he said. "Well, bung—oh, then!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good night."</p>
+
+<p>"Give my love to the Alpha Separator and all the little Separators."</p>
+
+<p>"I will," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He accompanied his cousin down the stairs and out into the stable yard.
+Having watched him move away and feeling satisfied that he could reach
+the house without assistance, he felt in his pocket for the materials
+for the last smoke of the day, and was filling his pipe when Emily came
+round the corner.</p>
+
+<p>Emily was in great spirits.</p>
+
+<p>"Such larks!" said Emily. "One of those big nights. Burglars dashing
+to and fro, people falling over banks and butting their heads against
+trees, and everything bright and lively. But let me tell you something.
+A fellow like your cousin Hugo is no use whatever to a dog in any real
+emergency. He's not a force. A broken reed. You should have seen him.
+He...."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop that noise and get to bed," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Right ho," said Emily. "You'll be coming soon, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>She charged up the stairs, glad to get to her basket after a busy
+evening. John lighted his pipe, and began to meditate. Usually he
+smoked the last pipe of the day to the accompaniment of thoughts about
+Pat, but now he found his mind turning to this extraordinary delusion
+of Hugo's that he had caught Doctor Twist, of Healthward Ho, burgling
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>John had never met Doctor Twist, but he knew that he was the proprietor
+of a flourishing health-cure establishment and assumed him to be a
+reputable citizen; and the idea that he had come all the way from
+Healthward Ho to burgle Rudge Hall was so bizarre that he could not
+imagine by what weird mental processes his cousin had been led to
+suppose that he had seen him. Why Doctor Twist, of all people? Why not
+the vicar or Chas. Bywater?</p>
+
+<p>Footsteps sounded on the gravel, and he was aware of the subject of his
+thoughts returning. There was a dazed expression on Hugo's face, and in
+his hand there fluttered a small oblong slip of paper.</p>
+
+<p>"John," said Hugo, "look at this and tell me if you see what I see. Is
+it a cheque?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"For five hundred quid, made out to me and signed by Uncle Lester?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then there <i>is</i> a Santa Claus!" said Hugo reverently. "John, old man,
+it's absolutely uncanny. Directly I got into the house just now Uncle
+Lester called me to his study, handed me this cheque, and told me that
+I could go to London with Ronnie to-morrow and help him start that
+night club. You remember me telling you about Ronnie's night club,
+the Hot Spot, situated just off Bond Street in the heart of London's
+pleasure-seeking area? Or did I? Well, anyway, he is starting a night
+club there, and he offered me a half share if I'd put up five hundred.
+By the way, Uncle Lester wants you to go to London to-morrow, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Me. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy he's got the wind up a bit about this burglary business
+to-night. He said something about wanting you to go and see the
+insurance people—to bump up the insurance a trifle, I suppose. He'll
+explain. But, listen, John. It really is the most extraordinary thing,
+this. Uncle Lester starting to unbelt, I mean, and scattering money all
+over the place. I was absolutely right when I told Pat this morning...."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen Pat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Met her this morning on the bridge. And I said to her ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she—er—ask after me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" said John hollowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I remember. I brought your name into the talk, and we had a
+few words about you, but I don't recollect her asking after you." Hugo
+laid a hand on his cousin's arm. "It's no use, John. Be a man! Forget
+her. Keep plugging away at that Molloy girl. I think you're beginning
+to make an impression. I think she's softening. I was watching her
+narrowly last night, and I fancied I saw a tender look in her eyes when
+they fell on you. I may have been mistaken, but that's what I fancied.
+A sort of shy, filmy look. I'll tell you what it is, John. You're much
+too modest. You underrate yourself. Keep steadily before you the fact
+that almost anybody can get married if they only plug away at it. Look
+at this man Bessemer, for instance, Ronnie's man that I told you about.
+As ugly a devil as you would wish to see outside the House of Commons,
+equipped with number sixteen feet and a face more like a walnut than
+anything. And yet he has clicked. The moral of which is that no one
+need ever lose hope. You may say to yourself that you have no chance
+with this Molloy girl, that she will not look at you. But consider the
+case of Bessemer. Compared with him, you are quite good looking. His
+ears alone...."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He knocked out his pipe and turned to the stairs. Hugo thought his
+manner abrupt.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">VIII</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery, that able and conscientious man, walked
+briskly up the main staircase of Healthward Ho. Outside a door off the
+second landing he stopped and knocked.</p>
+
+<p>A loud sneeze sounded from within.</p>
+
+<p>"Cub!" called a voice.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp Twist, propped up with pillows, was sitting in bed, swathed in
+a woollen dressing gown. His face was flushed, and he regarded his
+visitor from under swollen eyelids with a moroseness which would have
+wounded a more sensitive man. Sergeant-Major Flannery stood six feet
+two in his boots: he had a round, shiny face at which it was agony for
+a sick man to look, and Chimp was aware that when he spoke it would
+be in a rolling, barrack-square bellow which would go clean through
+him like a red-hot bullet through butter. One has to be in rude health
+and at the top of one's form to bear up against the Sergeant-Major
+Flannerys of this world.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he muttered thickly.</p>
+
+<p>He broke off to sniff at a steaming jug which stood beside his bed, and
+the Sergeant-Major, gazing down at him with the offensive superiority
+of a robust man in the presence of an invalid, fingered his waxed
+moustache. The action intensified Chimp's dislike. From the first he
+had been jealous of that moustache. Until it had come into his life
+he had always thought highly of his own fungoid growth, but one look
+at this rival exhibit had taken all the heart out of him. The thing
+was long and blond and bushy, and it shot heavenward into two glorious
+needle-point ends, a shining zareba of hair quite beyond the scope of
+any mere civilian. Non-army men may grow moustaches and wax them and
+brood over them and be fond and proud of them, but to obtain a waxed
+moustache in the deepest and holiest sense of the words you have to be
+a sergeant-major.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo-er!" said Mr. Flannery. "That's a nasty cold you've got."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp, as if to endorse this opinion, sneezed again.</p>
+
+<p>"A nasty, feverish cold," proceeded the Sergeant-Major in the tones in
+which he had once been wont to request squads of recruits to number off
+from the right. "You ought to do something about that cold."</p>
+
+<p>"I ab dog sobthig about it," growled Chimp, having recourse to the jug
+once more.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mean sniffing at jugs, sir. You won't do yourself no good
+sniffing at jugs, Mr. Twist. You want to go to the root of the matter,
+if you understand the expression. You want to attack it from the
+stummick. The stummick is the seat of the trouble. Get the stummick
+right and the rest follows natural."</p>
+
+<p>"Wad do you wad?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's some say quinine and some say a drop of camphor on a lump of
+sugar and some say cinnamon, but you can take it from me the best thing
+for a nasty feverish cold in the head is taraxacum and hops. There is
+no occasion to damn my eyes, Mr. Twist. I am only trying to be 'elpful.
+You send out for some taraxacum and hops, and before you know where you
+are...."</p>
+
+<p>"Wad do you wad?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm telling you. There's a gentleman below—a gentleman who's called,"
+said Sergeant-Major Flannery, making his meaning clear. "A gentleman,"
+being still more precise, "who's called at the front door in a
+nortermobile. He wants to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he can't."</p>
+
+<p>"Says his name's Molloy."</p>
+
+<p>"Molloy?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what he <i>said</i>," replied Mr. Flannery, as one declining to be
+quoted or to accept any responsibility.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? All right. Send him up."</p>
+
+<p>"Taraxacum and hops," repeated the Sergeant-Major, pausing at the door.</p>
+
+<p>He disappeared, and a few moments later returned, ushering in Soapy. He
+left the two old friends together, and Soapy approached the bed with
+rather an awe-struck air.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got a cold," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp sniffed—twice. Once with annoyance and once at the jug.</p>
+
+<p>"So would you have a code if you'd been sitting up to your neck in
+water for half an hour last night and had to ride home tweddy biles
+wriggig wet on a motorcycle."</p>
+
+<p>"Says which?" exclaimed Soapy, astounded.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp related the saga of the previous night, touching disparagingly on
+Hugo and saying some things about Emily which it was well she could not
+hear.</p>
+
+<p>"And that leds me out," he concluded.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm through."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say that."</p>
+
+<p>"I do say thad."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Chimpie, we've got it all fixed for you to get away with the
+stuff to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp stared at him incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"To-night? You thig I'm going out to-night with this code of mine, to
+clibe through windows and be run off my legs by ..."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Chimpie, there's no danger of that now. We've got everything set.
+That guy Hugo and his friend are going to London this morning, and so's
+the other fellow. You won't have a thing to do but walk in."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>He relapsed into silence, and took a thoughtful sniff at the jug.
+This information, he was bound to admit, did alter the complexion of
+affairs. But he was a business man.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if I do agree to go out and risk exposing this nasty, feverish
+code of mine to the night air, which is the worst thig a man can
+do—ask any doctor...."</p>
+
+<p>"Chimpie!" cried Mr. Molloy in a stricken voice. His keen intuition
+told him what was coming.</p>
+
+<p>"... I don't do it on any sigsdy-forty basis. Sigsdy-five—thirty-five
+is the figure."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy had always been an eloquent man—without a natural turn
+for eloquence you cannot hope to traffic successfully in the baser
+varieties of oil stocks; but never had he touched the sublime heights
+of oratory to which he soared now. Even the first few words would have
+been enough to melt most people. Nevertheless when at the end of five
+minutes he paused for breath, he knew that he had failed to grip his
+audience.</p>
+
+<p>"Sigsdy-five—thirty-five," said Chimp firmly. "You need me, or you
+wouldn't have brought me into this. If you could have worked the job by
+yourself, you'd never have tode me a word about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't work it by myself. I've got to have an alibi. I and the wife
+are going to a theatre to-night in Birmingham."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I'm saying. You can't get alog without me. And that's why
+it's going to be sigsdy-five—thirty-five."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy wandered to the window and looked hopelessly out over the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Think what Dolly will say when I tell her," he pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp replied ungallantly that Dolly and what she might say meant
+little in his life. Mr. Molloy groaned hollowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess if that's the way you feel...."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp assured him it was.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I suppose that's the way we'll have to fix it."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said Chimp. "Then I'll be there somewheres about eleven,
+or a little later, maybe. And you needn't bother to leave any window
+opud this time. Just have a ladder laying around and I'll bust the
+window of the picture gallery, where the stuff is. It'll be more
+trouble, but I dode bide takid a bidder trouble to make thigs look more
+natural. You just see thad ladder's where I can fide it, and then you
+can leave all the difficud part of it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Difficult!"</p>
+
+<p>"Difficud was what I said," returned Chimp. "Suppose I trip over
+somethig id the dark? Suppose I slip on the stairs? Suppose the ladder
+breaks? Suppose that dog gets after me again? That dog's not going to
+London, is it? Well, then! Besides, considering that I may quide ligely
+get pneumonia and pass in my checks.... What did you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy had not spoken. He had merely sighed wistfully.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>Although anxious thought for the comfort of his juniors was not
+habitually one of Lester Carmody's outstanding qualities, in planning
+his nephew John's expedition to London he had been considerateness
+itself. John, he urged, must on no account dream of trying to make the
+double journey in a single day. Apart from the fatigue inseparable from
+such a performance, he was a young man, and young men, Mr. Carmody
+pointed out, are always the better for a little relaxation, and an
+occasional taste of the pleasures which a metropolis has to offer. Let
+John have a good dinner in London, go to a theatre, sleep comfortably
+at a first-class hotel and return at his leisure on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, in spite of his uncle's solicitude nightfall found the
+latter hurrying back into Worcestershire in the Widgeon Seven. He did
+not admit that he was nervous, yet there had undoubtedly come upon
+him something that resembled uneasiness. He had been thinking a good
+deal during his ride to London about the peculiar behaviour of his
+cousin Hugo on the previous night. The supposition that Hugo had found
+Doctor Twist of Healthward Ho trying to burgle Rudge Hall was, of
+course, too absurd for consideration, but it did seem possible that he
+had surprised some sort of an attempt upon the house. Rambling and
+incoherent as his story had been, it had certainly appeared to rest
+upon that substratum of fact, and John had protested rather earnestly
+to his uncle against being sent to London, on an errand which could
+have been put through much more simply by letter, at a time when
+burglars were in the neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody had laughed at his apprehensions. It was most unlikely, he
+pointed out, that Hugo had ever seen a marauder at all. But assuming
+that he had done so, and that he had surprised him and pursued him
+about the garden, was it reasonable to suppose that the man would
+return on the very next night? And if, finally, he did return, the mere
+absence of John would make very little difference. Unless he proposed
+to patrol the grounds all night, John, sleeping as he did over the
+stable yard, could not be of much help, and even without him Rudge
+Hall was scarcely in a state of defencelessness. Sturgis, the butler,
+it was true, must, on account of age and flat feet, be reckoned a
+non-combatant, but apart from Mr. Carmody himself the garrison, John
+must recollect, included the intrepid Thomas G. Molloy, a warrior at
+the very mention of whose name Bad Men in Western mining camps had in
+days gone by trembled like aspens.</p>
+
+<p>It was all very plausible, yet John, having completed his business in
+London, swallowed an early dinner and turned the head of the Widgeon
+Seven homeward.</p>
+
+<p>It is often the man with smallest stake in a venture that has its
+interests most deeply at heart. His uncle Lester John had always
+suspected of a complete lack of interest in the welfare of Rudge Hall;
+and, as for Hugo, that urban-minded young man looked on the place as a
+sort of penitentiary, grudging every moment he was compelled to spend
+within its ancient walls. To John it was left to regard Rudge in the
+right Carmody spirit, the spirit of that Nigel Carmody who had once
+held it for King Charles against the forces of the Commonwealth. Where
+Rudge was concerned, John was fussy. The thought of intruders treading
+its sacred floors appalled him. He urged the Widgeon Seven forward at
+its best speed and reached Rudge as the clock over the stables was
+striking eleven.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing that met his eye as he turned in at the stable yard
+was the door of the garage gaping widely open and empty space in the
+spot where the Dex-Mayo should have stood. He ran the two-seater in,
+switched off the engine and the lights, and, climbing down stiffly,
+proceeded to ponder over this phenomenon. The only explanation he could
+think of was that his uncle must have ordered the car out after dinner
+on an expedition of some kind. To Birmingham, probably. The only place
+you ever went to from Rudge after nightfall was Birmingham.</p>
+
+<p>John thought he could guess what must have happened. He did not often
+read the Birmingham papers himself, but the <i>Post</i> came to the house
+every morning: and he seemed to see Miss Molloy, her appetite for
+entertainment whetted rather than satisfied by the village concert,
+finding in its columns the announcement that one of the musical
+comedies of her native land was playing at the Prince of Wales. No
+doubt she had wheedled his uncle into taking herself and her father
+over there, with the result that here the house was without anything in
+the shape of protection except butler Sturgis, who had been old when
+John was a boy.</p>
+
+<p>A wave of irritation passed over John. Two long drives in the Widgeon
+Seven in a single day had induced even in his whip-cord body a certain
+measure of fatigue. He had been looking forward to tumbling into bed
+without delay, and this meant that he must remain up and keep vigil
+till the party's return. Well, at least he would rout Emily out of her
+slumbers.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo?" said Emily sleepily, in answer to his whistle. "Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come down," called John.</p>
+
+<p>There was a scrabbling on the stairs. Emily bounded out, full of life.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, well!" she said. "You back?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come along."</p>
+
+<p>"What's up? More larks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make such a beastly noise," said John. "Do you know what time it
+is?"</p>
+
+<p>They walked out together and proceeded to make a slow circle of the
+house. And gradually the magic of the night began to soften John's
+annoyance. The grounds of Rudge Hall, he should have remembered, were
+at their best at this hour and under these conditions. Shy little
+scents were abroad which did not trust themselves out in the daytime,
+and you needed stillness like this really to hear the soft whispering
+of the trees.</p>
+
+<p>London had been stiflingly hot, and this sweet coolness was like balm.
+Emily had disappeared into the darkness, which probably meant that she
+would clump back up the stairs at two in the morning having rolled in
+something unpleasant, and ruin his night's repose by leaping on his
+chest, but he could not bring himself to worry about it. A sort of
+beatific peace was upon him. It was almost as though an inner voice
+were whispering to him that he was on the brink of some wonderful
+experience. And what experience the immediate future could hold except
+the possible washing of Emily when she finally decided to come home he
+was unable to imagine.</p>
+
+<p>Moving at a leisurely pace, he worked round to the back of the house
+again and stepped off the grass on to the gravel outside the stable
+yard. And as his shoes grated in the warm silence a splash of white
+suddenly appeared in the blackness before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie?"</p>
+
+<p>He came back on his heels as if he had received a blow. It was the
+voice of Pat, sounding in the warm silence like moonlight made audible.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that you, Johnnie?"</p>
+
+<p>John broke into a little run. His heart was jumping, and all the
+happiness which had been glowing inside him had leaped up into a
+roaring flame. That mysterious premonition had meant something, after
+all. But he had never dreamed it could mean anything so wonderful as
+this.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>The night was full of stars, but overhanging trees made the spot where
+they stood a little island of darkness in which all that was visible
+of Pat was a faint gleaming of white. John stared at her dumbly. Only
+once in his life before could he remember having felt as he felt now,
+and that was one raw November evening at school at the close of the
+football match against Marlborough when, after battling wearily through
+a long half hour to preserve the slenderest of all possible leads, he
+had heard the referee's whistle sound through the rising mists and had
+stood up, bruised and battered and covered with mud, to the realization
+that the game was over and won. He had had his moments since then: he
+had captained Oxford and played for England, and had touched happiness
+in other and milder departments of life, but never again till now had
+he felt that strange, almost awful ecstasy.</p>
+
+<p>Pat, for her part, appeared composed.</p>
+
+<p>"That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've
+been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a
+sound."</p>
+
+<p>"Emily's gone away somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for
+life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically
+cut me dead."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!" said John, thickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such
+a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling
+round?"</p>
+
+<p>It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The
+thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a
+thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step
+to prevent them.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just walking."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you surprised to see me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"We don't see much of each other nowadays."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know.... I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious! What made you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>Silence fell upon them again. John was harassed by a growing
+consciousness that he was failing to prove himself worthy of this
+golden moment which the Fates had granted to him. Was this all he was
+capable of—stiff, halting words which sounded banal even to himself?
+A night like this deserved, he felt, something better. He saw himself
+for an instant as he must be appearing to a girl like Pat, a girl who
+had been everywhere and met all sorts of men—glib, dashing men; suave,
+ingratiating men; men of poise and <i>savoir faire</i> who could carry
+themselves with a swagger. An aching humility swept over him.</p>
+
+<p>And yet she had come here to-night to see him. The thought a little
+restored his self-respect, and he was trying with desperate search in
+the unexplored recesses of his mind to discover some remark which would
+show his appreciation of that divine benevolence, when she spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie, let's go out on the moat."</p>
+
+<p>John's heart was singing like one of the morning stars. The suggestion
+was not one which he would have made himself, for it would not
+have occurred to him, but, now that it had been made, he saw how
+super-excellent it was. He tried to say so, but words would not come to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem very enthusiastic," said Pat. "I suppose you think I
+ought to be at home and in bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you want to go to bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come on then."</p>
+
+<p>They walked in silence down the yew-hedged path that led to the
+boathouse. The tranquil beauty of the night wrapped them about as in a
+garment. It was very dark here, and even the gleam of white that was
+Pat had become indistinct.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>He heard her utter a little exclamation. Something soft and scented
+stumbled against him, and for an instant he was holding her in his
+arms. The next moment he had very properly released her again, and he
+heard her laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry," said Pat. "I stumbled."</p>
+
+<p>John did not reply. He was incapable of speech. That swift moment of
+contact had had the effect of clarifying his mental turmoil. Luminously
+now he perceived what was causing his lack of eloquence. It was the
+surging, choking desire to kiss Pat, to reach out and snatch her up in
+his arms and hold her there.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said John.</p>
+
+<p>Prudence, the kill-joy, had whispered in his ear. He visualized
+Prudence as a thin, pale-faced female with down-drawn lips and
+mild, warning stare who murmured thinly, "Is it wise?" Before her
+whisper primitive emotions fled, abashed. The caveman in John fled
+back into the dim past whence he had come. Most certainly, felt the
+Twentieth-Century John, it would not be wise. Very clearly Pat had
+shown him, that night in London, that all that she could give him was
+friendship, and to gratify the urge of some distant ancestor who ought
+to have been ashamed of himself he had been proposing to shatter the
+delicate crystal of this friendship into fragments. He shivered at the
+narrowness of escape.</p>
+
+<p>He had heard stories. In stories girls drew their breath in sharply and
+said "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?" He decided not to
+spoil everything. Walking warily, he reached the little gate that led
+to the boathouse steps and opened it with something of a flourish.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What of?" said Pat. It seemed to John that she spoke a trifle flatly.</p>
+
+<p>"These steps are rather tricky."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said Pat.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>He followed her into the punt, oppressed once more by a feeling that
+something had gone wrong with what should have been the most wonderful
+night of his life. Girls are creatures of moods, and Pat seemed now
+to have fallen into one of odd aloofness. She said nothing as he
+pushed the boat out, and remained silent as it slid through the water
+with a little tinkling ripple, bearing them into a world of stars and
+coolness, where everything was still and the trees stood out against
+the sky as if carved out of cardboard.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you all right?" said John, at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid, thanks." Pat's mood seemed to have undergone another swift
+change. Her voice was friendly again. She nestled into the cushions.
+"This is luxury. Do you remember the old days when there was nothing
+but the weed-boat?"</p>
+
+<p>"They were pretty good days," said John wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>"They were, rather," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>The spell of the summer night held them silent again. No sound
+broke the stillness but the slap of tiny waves and the rhythmic dip
+and splash of the paddle. Then with a dry flittering a bat wheeled
+overhead, and out somewhere by the little island where the birds nested
+something leaped noisily in the water. Pat raised her head.</p>
+
+<p>"A pike?"</p>
+
+<p>"Must have been."</p>
+
+<p>Pat sat up and leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>"That would have excited Father," she said. "I know he's dying to get
+out here and have another go at the pike. Johnnie, I do wish somebody
+could do something to stop this absurd feud between him and Mr.
+Carmody. It's too silly. I know Father would be all over Mr. Carmody if
+only he would make some sort of advance. After all, he did behave very
+badly. He might at least apologize."</p>
+
+<p>John did not reply for a moment. He was thinking that whoever tried
+to make his uncle apologize for anything had a whole-time job on his
+hands. Obstinate was a mild word for the squire of Rudge. Pigs bowed
+as he passed, and mules could have taken his correspondence course.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Lester's a peculiar man," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But he might listen to you."</p>
+
+<p>"He might," said John doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, will you try? Will you go to him and say that all Father wants
+is for him to admit he was in the wrong? Good heavens! It isn't asking
+much of a man to admit that when he's nearly murdered somebody."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try."</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo says Mr. Carmody has gone off his head, but he can't have gone
+far enough off not to be able to see that Father has a perfect right
+to be offended at being grabbed round the waist and used as a dug-out
+against dynamite explosions."</p>
+
+<p>"I think Hugo's off his head," said John. "He was running round the
+garden last night, dashing himself against trees. He said he was
+chasing a burglar."</p>
+
+<p>Pat was not to be diverted into a discussion of Hugo's mental
+deficiencies.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, will you do your best, Johnnie? Don't just let things slide
+as if they didn't matter. I tell you, it's rotten for me. Father
+found me talking to Hugo the other day and behaved like something out
+of a super-film. He seemed sorry there wasn't any snow, so that he
+couldn't drive his erring daughter out into it. If he knew I was up
+here to-night he would foam with fury. He says I mustn't speak to you
+or Hugo or Mr. Carmody or Emily—not that I want to speak to Emily,
+the little blighter—nor your ox nor your ass nor anything that is
+within your gates. He's put a curse on the Hall. It's one of those
+comprehensive curses, taking in everything from the family to the mice
+in the kitchen, and I tell you I'm jolly well fed up. This place has
+always been just like a home to me, and you ..."</p>
+
+<p>John paused in the act of dipping his paddle into the water.</p>
+
+<p>"... and you have always been just like a brother ..."</p>
+
+<p>John dug the paddle down with a vicious jerk.</p>
+
+<p>"... and if Father thinks it doesn't affect me to be told I mustn't
+come here and see you, he's wrong. I suppose most girls nowadays would
+just laugh at him, but I can't. It isn't his being angry I'd mind—it
+would hurt his feelings so frightfully if I let him down and went
+fraternizing with the enemy. So I have to come here on the sly, and if
+there's one thing in the world I hate it's doing things on the sly. So
+do reason with that old pig of an uncle of yours, Johnnie. Talk to him
+like a mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Pat," said John fervently, "I don't know how it's going to be done,
+but if it can be done I'll do it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the stuff! You're a funny old thing, Johnnie. In some ways
+you're so slow, but I believe when you really start out to do anything
+you generally put it through."</p>
+
+<p>"Slow?" said John, stung. "How do you mean, slow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't you think you're slow?"</p>
+
+<p>"In what way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just slow."</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the fact that the stars were shining bravely, the night was
+very dark, much too dark for John to be able to see Pat's face; he got
+the impression that, could he have seen it, he would have discovered
+that she was smiling that old mocking smile of hers. And somehow,
+though in the past he had often wilted meekly and apologetically
+beneath this smile, it filled him now with a surge of fury. He plied
+the paddle wrathfully, and the boat shot forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go so fast," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I was slow," retorted John, sinking back through the years
+to the repartee of school days.</p>
+
+<p>Pat gurgled in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I wound you, Johnnie? I'm sorry. You aren't slow. It's just
+prudence, I expect."</p>
+
+<p>Prudence! John ceased to paddle. He was tingling all over, and there
+had come upon him a strange breathlessness.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean, prudence?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just prudence. I can't explain."</p>
+
+<p>Prudence! John sat and stared through the darkness in a futile effort
+to see her face. A water rat swam past, cleaving a fan-shaped trail.
+The stars winked down at him. In the little island a bird moved among
+the reeds. Prudence! Was she referring...? Had she meant...? Did she
+allude...?</p>
+
+<p>He came to life and dug the paddle into the water. Of course she
+wasn't. Of course she hadn't. Of course she didn't. In that little
+episode on the path, he had behaved exactly as he should have behaved.
+If he behaved as he should not have behaved, if he had behaved as that
+old flint-axe and bearskin John of the Stone Age would have had him
+behave, he would have behaved unpardonably. The swift intake of the
+breath and the "Oh, why must you spoil everything like this?"—that was
+what would have been the result of listening to the advice of a bounder
+of an ancestor who might have been a social success in his day, but
+naturally didn't understand the niceties of modern civilization.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, he worked with unnecessary vigour at the paddle, calling
+down another rebuke from his passenger.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't race along like that. Are you trying to hint that you want to
+get this over as quickly as you can and send me home to bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," was all John could find to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I suppose I ought to be thinking of bed. I'll tell you what.
+We'll do the thing in style. The Return by Water. You can take me out
+into the Skirme and down as far as the bridge and drop me there. Or is
+that too big a programme? You're probably tired."</p>
+
+<p>John had motored two hundred miles that day, but he had never felt less
+tired. His view was that he wished they could row on for ever.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Push on, then," said Pat. "Only do go slowly. I want to enjoy this. I
+don't want to whizz by all the old landmarks. How far to Ghost Corner?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's just ahead."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, take it easy."</p>
+
+<p>The moat proper was a narrow strip of water which encircled the Hall
+and had been placed there by the first Carmody in the days when
+householders believed in making things difficult for their visitors.
+With the gradual spread of peace throughout the land its original
+purposes had been forgotten, and later members of the family had
+broadened it and added to it and tinkered with it and sprinkled it with
+little islands with the view of converting it into something resembling
+as nearly as possible an ornamental lake. Apparently it came to an end
+at the spot where a mass of yew trees stood forbiddingly in a gloomy
+row, that haunted spot which Pat as a child had named Ghost Corner;
+but if you approached this corner intrepidly you found there a narrow
+channel. Which navigated, you came into a winding stream which led past
+meadows and under bridges to the upper reaches of the Skirme.</p>
+
+<p>"How old were you, Johnnie, when you were first brave enough to come
+past Ghost Corner at night all by yourself?" asked Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Sixteen."</p>
+
+<p>"I bet you were much more than that."</p>
+
+<p>"I did it on my sixteenth birthday."</p>
+
+<p>Pat stretched out a hand and the branches brushed her fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't do it even now," she said. "I know perfectly well a skinny
+arm covered with black hair would come out of the yews and grab me.
+There's something that looks like a skinny arm hovering at the back of
+your neck now, Johnnie. What made you such a hero that particular day?"</p>
+
+<p>"You had betted me I wouldn't, if you remember."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember. Did I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you egged me on with taunts."</p>
+
+<p>"And you went and did it? What a good influence I've been in your life,
+haven't I? Oh, dear! It's funny to think of you and me as kids on this
+very bit of water and here we are again now, old and worn and quite
+different people, and the water's just the same as ever."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not different."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you say I'm different?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>John stopped paddling. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you say I'm different?"</p>
+
+<p>"Those white things through the trees there must be geese."</p>
+
+<p>John was not interested in geese.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not different at all," he said, "I...." He broke off. He had been
+on the verge of saying that he had loved her then and that he loved her
+still—which, he perceived, would have spoiled everything. "I'm just
+the same," he concluded lamely.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why don't you sport with me on the green as you did when you
+were a growing lad? Here you have been back for days, and to-night is
+the first glimpse I get of you. And, even so, I had to walk a mile and
+fling gravel at your window. In the old days you used to live on my
+doorstep. Do you think I've enjoyed being left all alone all this time?"</p>
+
+<p>John was appalled. Put this way, the facts did seem to point to a
+callous negligence on his part. And all the while he had been supposing
+his conduct due to delicacy and a sense of what was fitting and would
+be appreciated. In John's code, it was the duty of a man who has told
+a girl he loved her and been informed that she does not love him to
+efface himself, to crawl into the background, to pass out of her life
+till the memory of his crude audacity shall have been blotted out by
+time. Why, half the big game shot in Africa owed their untimely end, he
+understood, to this tradition.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know...."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know you wanted to see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I wanted to see you. Look here, Johnnie. I'll tell you what.
+Are you doing anything to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then get out that old rattletrap of yours and gather me up at my
+place, and we'll go off and have a regular picnic like we used to do
+in the old days. Father is lunching out. You could come at about one
+o'clock. We could get out to Wenlock Edge in an hour. It would be
+lovely there if this weather holds up. What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>John did not immediately say anything. His feelings were too deep for
+words. He urged the boat forward, and the Skirme received it with that
+slow, grave, sleepy courtesy which made it for right-thinking people
+the best of all rivers.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!" said John at length, devoutly.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Will I!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right. That's splendid. I'll expect you at one."</p>
+
+<p>The Skirme rippled about the boat, chuckling to itself. It was a
+kindly, thoughtful river, given to chuckling to itself like an old
+gentleman who likes to see young people happy.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to have some topping picnics in the old days," said Pat
+dreamily.</p>
+
+<p>"We did," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"Though why on earth you ever wanted to be with a beastly, bossy,
+consequential, fractious kid like me, goodness knows."</p>
+
+<p>"You were fine," said John.</p>
+
+<p>The Old Bridge loomed up through the shadows. John had steered the
+boat shoreward, and it brushed against the reeds with a sound like the
+blowing of fairy bugles.</p>
+
+<p>Pat scrambled out and bent down to where he sat, holding to the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not nearly so beastly now, Johnnie," she said in a whisper.
+"You'll find that out some day, perhaps, if you're very patient. Good
+night, Johnnie, dear. Don't forget to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>She flitted away into the darkness, and John, releasing his hold on the
+bank and starting up as if he had had an electric shock, was carried
+out into mid-stream. He was tingling from head to foot. It could not
+have happened, of course, but for a moment he had suddenly received the
+extraordinary impression that Pat had kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!" he called, choking.</p>
+
+<p>There came no answer out of the night—only the sleepy chuckling of the
+Skirme as it pottered on to tell its old friend the Severn about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!"</p>
+
+<p>John drove the paddle forcefully into the water, and the Skirme,
+ceasing to chuckle, uttered two loud gurgles of protest as if resenting
+treatment so violent. The nose of the boat bumped against the bank,
+and he sprang ashore. He stood there, listening. But there was nothing
+to hear. Silence had fallen on an empty world.</p>
+
+<p>A little sound came to him in the darkness. The Skirme was chuckling
+again.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>John woke late next day, and in the moment between sleeping and waking
+was dimly conscious of a feeling of extraordinary happiness. For some
+reason, which he could not immediately analyze, the world seemed
+suddenly to have become the best of all possible worlds. Then he
+remembered, and sprang out of bed with a shout.</p>
+
+<p>Emily, lying curled up in her basket, her whole appearance that of a
+dog who has come home with the milk, raised a drowsy head. Usually it
+was her custom to bustle about and lend a hand while John bathed and
+dressed, but this morning she did not feel equal to it. Deciding that
+it was too much trouble even to tell him about the man she had seen in
+the grounds last night, she breathed heavily twice and returned to her
+slumbers.</p>
+
+<p>Having dressed and come out into the open, John found that he had
+missed some hours of what appeared to be the most perfect morning in
+the world's history. The stable yard was a well of sunshine: light
+breezes whispered in the branches of the cedars: fleecy clouds swam in
+a sea of blue: and from the direction of the home farm there came the
+soothing crooning of fowls. His happiness swelled into a feeling of
+universal benevolence toward all created things. He looked upon the
+birds and found them all that birds should be: the insects which hummed
+in the sunshine were, he perceived, a quite superior brand of insect:
+he even felt fraternal toward a wasp which came flying about his face.
+And when the Dex-Mayo rolled across the bridge of the moat and Bolt,
+applying the brakes, drew up at his side, he thought he had never seen
+a nicer-looking chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Bolt," said John, effusively.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Where have you been off to so early?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Carmody sent me to Worcester, sir, to leave a bag for him at Shrub
+Hill station. If you're going into the house, Mr. John, perhaps you
+wouldn't mind giving him the ticket?"</p>
+
+<p>John was delighted. It was a small kindness that the chauffeur was
+asking, and he wished it had been in his power to do something for him
+on a bigger scale. However, the chance of doing even small kindnesses
+was something to be grateful for on a morning like this. He took the
+ticket and put it in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you, Bolt?"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, thank you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"How's Mrs. Bolt?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's all right, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"How's the baby?"</p>
+
+<p>"The baby's all right."</p>
+
+<p>"And the dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"The dog's all right, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"That's splendid," said John. "That's great. That's fine. That's
+capital. I'm delighted."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled a radiant smile of cheeriness and good will, and turned
+toward the house. However much the heart may be uplifted, the animal in
+a man insists on demanding breakfast, and, though John was practically
+pure spirit this morning, he was not blind to the fact that a couple of
+eggs and a cup of coffee would be no bad thing. As he reached the door,
+he remembered that Mrs. Bolt had a canary and that he had not inquired
+after that, but decided that the moment had gone by. Later on, perhaps.
+He opened the back door and made his way to the morning room, where
+eggs abounded and coffee could be had for the asking. Pausing only to
+tickle a passing cat under the ear and make chirruping noises to it, he
+went in.</p>
+
+<p>The morning room was empty, and there were signs that the rest of the
+party had already breakfasted. John was glad of it. Genially disposed
+though he felt toward his species to-day, he relished the prospect
+of solitude. A man who is about to picnic on Wenlock Edge in perfect
+weather with the only girl in the world, wants to meditate, not to make
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>So thoroughly had his predecessors breakfasted that he found, on
+inspecting the coffee pot, that it was empty. He rang the bell.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Sturgis," he said affably, as the butler appeared. "You
+might give me some more coffee, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>The butler of Rudge Hall was a little man with snowy hair who had been
+placidly withering in Mr. Carmody's service for the last twenty years.
+John had known him ever since he could remember, and he had always been
+just the same—frail and venerable and kindly and dried-up. He looked
+exactly like the Good Old Man in a touring melodrama company.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mr. John! I thought you were in London."</p>
+
+<p>"I got back late last night. And very glad," said John heartily, "to be
+back. How's the rheumatism, Sturgis?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather troublesome, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>John was horrified. Could these things be on such a day as this?</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John. I was awake the greater portion of the night."</p>
+
+<p>"You must rub yourself with something and then go and lie down and have
+a good rest. Where do you feel it mostly?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the limbs, Mr. John. It comes on in sharp twinges."</p>
+
+<p>"That's bad. By Jove, yes, that's bad. Perhaps this fine weather will
+make it better."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, so do I," said John earnestly. "Tell me, where is everybody?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hugo and the young gentleman went up to London."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, yes. I was forgetting."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Molloy and Miss Molloy finished their breakfast some little time
+ago, and are now out in the garden."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes. And my uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is up in the picture gallery with the policeman, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>John stared.</p>
+
+<p>"With the what?"</p>
+
+<p>"With the policeman, Mr. John, who's come about the burglary."</p>
+
+<p>"Burglary?"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you hear, Mr. John, we had a burglary last night?"</p>
+
+<p>The world being constituted as it is, with Fate waiting round almost
+every corner with its sandbag, it is not often that we are permitted to
+remain for long undisturbed in our moods of exaltation. John came down
+to earth swiftly.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John. And if you could spare the time...."</p>
+
+<p>Remorse gripped John. He felt like a sentinel who, falling asleep at
+his post, has allowed the enemy to creep past him in the night.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go up and see about this."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, Mr. John. But if I might have a word...."</p>
+
+<p>"Some other time, Sturgis."</p>
+
+<p>He ran up the stairs to the picture gallery. Mr. Carmody and Rudge's
+one policeman were examining something by the window, and John, in the
+brief interval which elapsed before they became aware of his presence,
+was enabled to see the evidence of the disaster. Several picture
+frames, robbed of their contents, gaped at him like blank windows.
+A glass case containing miniatures had been broken and rifled. The
+Elizabethan salt cellar presented to Aymas Carmody by the Virgin Queen
+herself was no longer in its place.</p>
+
+<p>"Gosh!" said John.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody and his companion turned.</p>
+
+<p>"John! I thought you were in London."</p>
+
+<p>"I came back last night."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see, or observe or hear anything of this business?" asked the
+policeman.</p>
+
+<p>Constable Mould was one of the slowest-witted men in Rudge, and he had
+eyes like two brown puddles filmed over with scum, but he was doing his
+best to look at John keenly.</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't here."</p>
+
+<p>"You said you were, sir," Constable Mould pointed out cleverly.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, I wasn't anywhere near the house," replied John impatiently.
+"Immediately I arrived I went out for a row on the moat."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you did not see or observe anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>Constable Mould, who had been licking the tip of his pencil and holding
+a notebook in readiness, subsided disappointedly.</p>
+
+<p>"When did this happen?" asked John.</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible to say," replied Mr. Carmody. "By a most unfortunate
+combination of circumstances the house was virtually empty from almost
+directly after dinner. Hugo and his friend, as you know, left for
+London yesterday morning. Mr. Molloy and his daughter took the car
+to Birmingham to see a play. And I myself retired to bed early with
+a headache. The man could have effected an entrance without being
+observed almost any time after eight o'clock. No doubt he actually did
+break in shortly before midnight."</p>
+
+<p>"How did he get in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly through this window by means of a ladder."</p>
+
+<p>John perceived that the glass of the window had been cut out.</p>
+
+<p>"Another most unfortunate thing," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "is that the
+objects stolen, though so extremely valuable, are small in actual size.
+The man could have carried them off without any inconvenience. No doubt
+they are miles away by this time, possibly even in London."</p>
+
+<p>"Was this here stuff insured?" asked Constable Mould.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Curiously enough, the reason my nephew here went to London
+yesterday was to increase the insurance. You saw to that matter, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes." John spoke absently. Like everybody else who has ever found
+himself on the scene of a recently committed burglary, he was looking
+about for clues. "Hullo!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I saw it," said Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw it first," said Constable Mould.</p>
+
+<p>"The man must have cut his finger getting it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I thought," said Constable Mould.</p>
+
+<p>The combined Mould-Carmody-John discovery was a bloodstained
+fingerprint on the woodwork of the window sill: and, like so many
+things in this world, it had at first sight the air of being much
+more important than it really was. John said he considered it valuable
+evidence, and felt damped when Mr. Carmody pointed out that its value
+was decreased by the fact that it was not easy to search through the
+whole of England for a man with a cut finger.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said John.</p>
+
+<p>Constable Mould said he had seen it right away.</p>
+
+<p>"The only thing to be done, I suppose," said Mr. Carmody resignedly,
+"is to telephone to the police in Worcester. Not that they will
+be likely to effect anything, but it is as well to observe the
+formalities. Come downstairs with me, Mould."</p>
+
+<p>They left the room, the constable, it seemed to John, taking none
+too kindly to the idea that there were higher powers in the world of
+detection than himself. His uncle, he considered, had shown a good
+deal of dignity in his acceptance of the disaster. Many men would have
+fussed and lost their heads, but Lester Carmody remained calm. John
+thought it showed a good spirit.</p>
+
+<p>He wandered about the room, hoping for more and better clues. But the
+difficulty confronting the novice on these occasions is that it is so
+hard to tell what is a clue and what is not. Probably, if he only knew,
+there were clues lying about all over the place, shouting to him to
+pick them up. But how to recognize them? Sherlock Holmes can extract a
+clue from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash. Doctor Watson has to
+have it taken out for him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label
+attached. John was forced reluctantly to the conclusion that he was
+essentially a Doctor Watson. He did not rise even to the modest level
+of a Scotland Yard Bungler.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke from a reverie to find Sturgis at his side.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Sturgis," said John absently.</p>
+
+<p>He was not particularly pleased to see the butler. The man looked as if
+he were about to dodder, and in moments of intense thought one does not
+wish to have doddering butlers around one.</p>
+
+<p>"Might I have a word, Mr. John?"</p>
+
+<p>John supposed he might, though he was not frightfully keen about it. He
+respected Sturgis's white hairs, but the poor old ruin had horned in at
+an unfortunate moment.</p>
+
+<p>"My rheumatism was very bad last night, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>John recognized the blunder he had made in being so sympathetic just
+now. At the time, feeling, as he had done, that all mankind were his
+little brothers, to inquire after and display a keen interest in
+Sturgis's rheumatism had been a natural and, one might say, unavoidable
+act. But now he regretted it. He required every cell in his brain for
+this very delicate business of clue-hunting, and it was maddening to be
+compelled to call a number of them off duty to attend to gossip about
+a butler's swollen joints. A little coldly he asked Sturgis if he had
+ever tried Christian Science.</p>
+
+<p>"It kept me awake a very long time, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"I read in a paper the other day that bee stings sometimes have a good
+effect."</p>
+
+<p>"Bee stings, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"So they say. You get yourself stung by bees, and the acid or whatever
+it is in the sting draws out the acid or whatever it is in you."</p>
+
+<p>Sturgis was silent for a while, and John supposed he was about to
+ask if he could direct him to a good bee. Such, however, was not the
+butler's intention. It was Sturgis, the old retainer with the welfare
+of Rudge Hall nearest his heart—not Sturgis the sufferer from twinges
+in the limbs—who was present now in the picture gallery.</p>
+
+<p>"It is very kind of you, Mr. John," he said, "to interest yourself, but
+what I wished to have a word with you about was this burglary of ours
+last night."</p>
+
+<p>This was more the stuff. John became heartier.</p>
+
+<p>"A most mysterious affair, Sturgis. The man apparently climbed in
+through this window, and no doubt escaped the same way."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. John. That's what I wished to have a word with you about. He
+went away down the front stairs."</p>
+
+<p>"What! How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saw him, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"You saw him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John. Owing to being kept awake by my rheumatism."</p>
+
+<p>The remorse which had come upon John at the moment when he had first
+heard the news of the burglary was as nothing to the remorse which
+racked him now. Just because this fine old man had one of those mild,
+goofy faces and bleated like a sheep when he talked, he had dismissed
+him without further thought as a dodderer. And all the time the
+splendid old fellow, who could not help his face and was surely not to
+be blamed if age had affected his vocal chords, had been the God from
+the Machine, sent from heaven to assist him in getting to the bottom
+of this outrage. There is no known case on record of a man patting a
+butler on the head, but John at this moment came very near to providing
+one.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"What did he look like?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't say, Mr. John, not really definite."</p>
+
+<p>"Why couldn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I did not really see him."</p>
+
+<p>"But you said you did."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John, but only in a manner of speaking."</p>
+
+<p>John's new-born cordiality waned a little. His first estimate, he felt,
+had been right. This was doddering, pure and simple.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean, only in a manner of speaking?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it was like this, Mr. John...."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," said John. "Tell me the whole thing right from the start."</p>
+
+<p>Sturgis glanced cautiously at the door. When he spoke, it was in a
+lowered voice, which gave his delivery the effect of a sheep bleating
+with cotton wool in its mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"I was awake with my rheumatism last night, Mr. John, and at last it
+come on so bad I felt I really couldn't hardly bear it no longer. I
+lay in bed, thinking, and after I had thought for quite some time, Mr.
+John, it suddenly crossed my mind that Mr. Hugo had once remarked,
+while kindly interesting himself in my little trouble, that a glassful
+of whisky, drunk without water, frequently alleviated the pain."</p>
+
+<p>John nodded. So far, the story bore the stamp of truth. A glassful
+of neat whisky was just what Hugo would have recommended for any
+complaint, from rheumatism to a broken heart.</p>
+
+<p>"So I thought in the circumstances that Mr. Carmody would not object if
+I tried a little. So I got out of bed and put on my overcoat, and I had
+just reached the head of the stairs, it being my intention to go to the
+cellarette in the dining room, when what should I hear but a noise."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of noise?"</p>
+
+<p>"A sort of sneezing noise, Mr. John. As it might be somebody sneezing."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes? Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was stottled."</p>
+
+<p>"Stottled? Oh, yes, I see. Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"I remained at the head of the stairs. For quite a while I remained at
+the head of the stairs. Then I crope ..."</p>
+
+<p>"You what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I crope to the door of the picture gallery."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I see. Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because the sneezing seemed to have come from there. And then I heard
+another sneeze. Two or three sneezes, Mr. John. As if whoever was in
+there had got a nasty cold in the head. And then I heard footsteps
+coming toward the door."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I went back to the head of the stairs again, sir. If anybody had told
+me half an hour before that I could have moved so quick I wouldn't
+have believed him. And then out of the door came a man carrying a bag.
+He had one of those electric torches. He went down the stairs, but it
+was only when he was at the bottom that I caught even a glimpse of his
+face."</p>
+
+<p>"But you did then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John, for just a moment. And I was stottled."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? You mean he was somebody you knew?"</p>
+
+<p>The butler lowered his voice again.</p>
+
+<p>"I could have sworn, Mr. John, it was that Doctor Twist who came over
+here the other day from Healthward Ho."</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Twist!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. John. I didn't tell the policeman just now, and I wouldn't
+tell anybody but you, because after all it was only a glimpse, as
+you might say, and I couldn't swear to it, and there's defamation of
+character to be considered. So I didn't mention it to Mr. Mould when
+he was inquiring of me. I said I'd heard nothing, being in my bed at
+the time. Because, apart from defamation of character and me not being
+prepared to swear on oath, I wasn't sure how Mr. Carmody would like the
+idea of my going to the dining-room cellarette even though in agonies
+of pain. So I'd be much obliged if you would not mention it to him, Mr.
+John."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better leave me to think this over, Sturgis."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>"You were quite right to tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mr. John. Are you coming downstairs to finish your
+breakfast, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>John waved away the material suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I want to think."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, Mr. John."</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, John walked to the window and frowned meditatively out.
+His brain was now working with a rapidity and clearness which the most
+professional of detectives might have envied. For the first time since
+his cousin Hugo had come to him to have his head repaired he began to
+realize that there might have been something, after all, in that young
+man's rambling story. Taken in conjunction with what Sturgis had just
+told him, Hugo's weird tale of finding Doctor Twist burgling the house
+became significant.</p>
+
+<p>This Twist, now. After all, what about him? He had come from nowhere to
+settle down in Worcestershire, ostensibly in order to conduct a health
+farm. But what if that health farm were a mere blind for more dastardly
+work. After all, it was surely a commonplace that your scientific
+criminal invariably adopted some specious cover of respectability for
+his crimes....</p>
+
+<p>Into the radius of John's vision there came Mr. Thomas G. Molloy,
+walking placidly beside the moat with his dashing daughter. It seemed
+to John as if he had been sent at just this moment for a purpose.
+What he wanted above all things was a keen-minded sensible man of the
+world with whom to discuss these suspicions of his, and who was better
+qualified for this rôle than Mr. Molloy? Long since he had fallen
+under the spell of the other's magnetic personality, and had admired
+the breadth of his intellect. Thomas G. Molloy was, it seemed to him,
+the ideal confidant.</p>
+
+<p>He left the room hurriedly, and ran down the stairs.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy was still strolling beside the moat when John arrived. He
+greeted him with his usual bluff kindliness. Soapy, like John some half
+hour earlier, was feeling amiably disposed toward all mankind this
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, well!" said Soapy. "So you're back? Did you have a
+pleasant time in London?"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, thanks. I wanted to see you...."</p>
+
+<p>"You've heard about this unfortunate business last night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It was about that...."</p>
+
+<p>"I have never been so upset by anything in my life," said Mr. Molloy.
+"By pure bad luck Dolly here and myself went over to Birmingham
+after dinner to see a show, and in our absence the outrage must have
+occurred. I venture to say," went on Mr. Molloy, a stern look creeping
+into his eyes, "that if only I'd been on the spot the thing could never
+have happened. My hearing's good, and I'm pretty quick on a trigger,
+Mr. Carroll—pretty quick, let me tell you. It would have taken a right
+smart burglar to have gotten past me."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet it would," said Dolly. "Gee! It's a pity. And the man didn't
+leave a single trace, did he?"</p>
+
+<p>"A fingerprint—or it may have been a thumb print—on the sill of the
+window, honey. That was all. And I don't see what good that's going to
+do us. You can't round up the population of England and ask to see
+their thumbs."</p>
+
+<p>"And outside of that not so much as a single trace. Isn't it too bad!
+From start to finish not a soul set eyes on the fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they did," said John. "That's what I came to talk to you about.
+One of the servants heard a noise and came out and saw him going down
+the staircase."</p>
+
+<p>If he had failed up to this point to secure the undivided attention of
+his audience, he had got it now. Miss Molloy seemed suddenly to come
+all eyes, and so tremendous were the joy and relief of Mr. Molloy that
+he actually staggered.</p>
+
+<p>"Saw him?" exclaimed Miss Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sus-saw him?" echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twist?" said Mr. Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled
+his forehead. "Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?"</p>
+
+<p>"The name seems kind of familiar," admitted Miss Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My
+uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go
+to get into condition—a sort of health farm, I suppose you would call
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, yes. I have heard Mr. Carmody speak of his friend Twist.
+But...."</p>
+
+<p>"Apparently he called here the other day—to see my uncle, I
+suppose—and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced
+that he was the burglar."</p>
+
+<p>"Improbable, surely?" Mr. Molloy seemed still to be having a little
+trouble with his breath. "Surely not very probable. This man Twist,
+from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why,
+therefore.... Besides, if he owns a prosperous business...."</p>
+
+<p>John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument.
+Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a
+bloodhound for tenacity.</p>
+
+<p>"I've thought of all that. I admit it did seem curious at first. But
+if you come to look into it you can see that the very thing a burglar
+who wanted to operate in these parts would do is to start some business
+that would make people unsuspicious of him."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds far-fetched to me."</p>
+
+<p>John's opinion of his sturdy good sense began to diminish.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyhow," he said in his solid way, "this servant is sure he
+recognized Twist, and one can't do any harm by going over there and
+having a look at the man. I've got quite a good excuse for seeing him.
+My uncle's having a dispute about his bill, and I can say I came over
+to discuss it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Molloy in a strained voice. "But——"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you can," said Miss Molloy, with sudden animation. "Smart of you
+to think of that. You need an excuse, if you don't want to make this
+Twist fellow suspicious."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the girl with something resembling approval.</p>
+
+<p>"And there's another thing," proceeded Miss Molloy, warming to her
+subject. "Don't forget that this bird, if he's the man that did the
+burgling last night, has a cut finger or thumb. If you find this Twist
+is going around with sticking plaster on him, why then that'll be
+evidence."</p>
+
+<p>John's approval deepened.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a great idea," he agreed. "What I was thinking was that I
+wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head."</p>
+
+<p>"A kuk-kuk-kuk...?" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my
+informant tells me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, say, this begins to look like the goods," cried Miss Molloy
+gleefully. "If this fellow has a cut thumb <i>and</i> a cold in the head,
+there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false
+whiskers and saying 'I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!' Say, listen. You
+get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to
+Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the
+more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been
+whooping it up a little too heavily for some time past, and I want to
+make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the
+stuff for a while. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist
+is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a
+fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would
+settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get
+that car out, Mr. Carroll, and we'll be off right away."</p>
+
+<p>John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase,
+he could not forget that his time to-day was ear-marked for other and
+higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist, of
+Healthward Ho.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be back here by a quarter to one," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I must."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the week end with
+this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've
+done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police.
+It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said John. "You're perfectly right. I'll have the car out
+in a couple of minutes."</p>
+
+<p>He hurried off. His views concerning Miss Molloy now were definitely
+favourable. She might not be the sort of girl he could ever like,
+she might not be the sort of girl he wanted staying at the Hall, but
+it was idle to deny that she had her redeeming qualities. About her
+intelligence, for instance, there was, he felt, no doubt whatsoever.</p>
+
+<p>And yet it was with regard to this intelligence that Soapy Molloy was
+at this very moment entertaining doubts of the gravest kind. His eyes
+were protruding a little, and he uttered an odd, strangled sound.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, you poor sap," said Dolly, meeting his shocked gaze
+with a confident unconcern.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy found speech.</p>
+
+<p>"All right? You say it's all right? How's it all right? If you hadn't
+pulled all that stuff...."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, listen!" said Dolly urgently. "Where's your sense? He would have
+gone over to see Chimp anyway, wouldn't he? Nothing we could have done
+would have headed him off that, would it? And he'd noticed Chimp had a
+cut finger, without my telling him, wouldn't he? All I've done is to
+make him think I'm on the level and working in cahoots with him."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the use of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what use it is. I know what I'm doing. Listen, Soapy,
+you just race into the house and get those knock-out drops and give
+them to me. And make it snappy," said Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>As when on a day of rain and storm there appears among the clouds a
+tiny gleam of blue, so now, at those magic words "knock-out drops," did
+there flicker into Mr. Molloy's sombre face a faint suggestion of hope.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry, Soapy. I've got this thing well in hand. When we've
+gone you jump to the 'phone and get Chimp on the wire and tell him this
+guy and I are on our way over. Tell him I'm bringing the kayo drops and
+I'll slip them to him as soon as I arrive. Tell him to be sure to have
+something to drink handy and to see that this bird gets a taste of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I get you, pettie!" Mr. Molloy's manner was full of a sort of
+awe-struck reverence, like that of some humble adherent of Napoleon
+listening to his great leader outlining plans for a forthcoming
+campaign; but nevertheless it was tinged with doubt. He had always
+admired his wife's broad, spacious outlook, but she was apt sometimes,
+he considered, in her fresh young enthusiasm, to overlook details.
+"But, pettie," he said, "is this wise? Don't forget you're not in
+Chicago now. I mean, supposing you do put this fellow to sleep, he's
+going to wake up pretty soon, isn't he? And when he does won't he raise
+an awful holler?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've got that all fixed. I don't know what sort of staff Chimp keeps
+over at that joint of his, but he's probably got assistants and all
+like that. Well, you tell him to tell them that there's a young lady
+coming over with a brother that wants looking after, and this brother
+has got to be given a sleeping draught and locked away somewhere to
+keep him from getting violent and doing somebody an injury. That'll get
+him out of the way long enough for us to collect the stuff and clear
+out. It's rapid action now, Soapy. Now that Chimp has gummed the game
+by letting himself be seen we've got to move quick. We've got to make
+our getaway to-day. So don't you go off wandering about the fields
+picking daisies after I've gone. You stick round that 'phone, because
+I'll be calling you before long. See?"</p>
+
+<p>"Honey," said Mr. Molloy devoutly, "I always said you were the brains
+of the firm, and I always will say it. I'd never have thought of a
+thing like this myself in a million years."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>It was about an hour later that Sergeant-Major Flannery, seated at his
+ease beneath a shady elm in the garden of Healthward Ho, looked up
+from the novelette over which he had been relaxing his conscientious
+mind and became aware that he was in the presence of Youth and Beauty.
+Toward him, across the lawn, was walking a girl who, his experienced
+eye assured him at a single glance, fell into that limited division of
+the Sex which is embraced by the word "Pippin." Her willowy figure was
+clothed in some clinging material of a beige colour, and her bright
+hazel eyes, when she came close enough for them to be seen, touched in
+the Sergeant-Major's susceptible bosom a ready chord. He rose from his
+seat with easy grace, and his hand, falling from the salute, came to
+rest on the western section of his waxed moustache.</p>
+
+<p>"Nice morning, miss," he bellowed.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Sergeant-Major Flannery that this girl was gazing upon him
+as on some wonderful dream of hers that had unexpectedly come true, and
+he was thrilled. It was unlikely, he felt, that she was about to ask
+him to perform some great knightly service for her, but if she did he
+would spring smartly to attention and do it in a soldierly manner while
+she waited. Sergeant-Major Flannery was pro-Dolly from the first moment
+of their meeting.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you one of Doctor Twist's assistants?" asked Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am his only assistant, miss. Sergeant-Major Flannery is the name."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? Then you look after the patients here?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is you who will be in charge of my poor brother?" She uttered
+a little sigh, and there came into her hazel eyes a look of pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother, miss? Are you the lady...."</p>
+
+<p>"Did Doctor Twist tell you about my brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss. The fellow who's been...."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, appalled. Only by a hair's-breadth had he stopped himself
+from using in the presence of this divine creature the hideous
+expression "mopping it up a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Dolly. "I see you know about it."</p>
+
+<p>"All I know about it, miss," said Sergeant-Major Flannery, "is that the
+doctor had me into the orderly room just now and said he was expecting
+a young lady to arrive with her brother, who needed attention. He said
+I wasn't to be surprised if I found myself called for to lend a hand in
+a roughhouse, because this bloke—because this patient was apt to get
+verlent."</p>
+
+<p>"My brother does get very violent," sighed Dolly. "I only hope he won't
+do you any injury."</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery twitched his banana-like fingers and inflated
+his powerful chest. He smiled a complacent smile.</p>
+
+<p>"He won't do <i>me</i> an injury, miss. I've had experience with...." Again
+he stopped just in time, on the very verge of shocking his companion's
+ears with the ghastly noun "souses" ... "with these sort of nervous
+cases," he amended. "Besides, the doctor says he's going to give the
+gentleman a little sleeping draught, which'll keep him as you might say
+'armless till he wakes up and finds himself under lock and key."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. Yes, that's a very good idea."</p>
+
+<p>"No sense in troubling trouble till trouble troubles you, as the saying
+is, miss," agreed the Sergeant-Major. "If you can do a thing in a nice,
+easy, tactful manner without verlence, then why use verlence? Has the
+gentleman been this way long, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Four years."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have had him in a home sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"I have put him into dozens of homes. But he always gets out. That's
+why I'm so worried."</p>
+
+<p>"He won't get out of Healthward Ho, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"He's very clever."</p>
+
+<p>It was on the tip of Sergeant-Major Flannery's tongue to point out
+that other people were clever, too, but he refrained, not so much from
+modesty as because at this moment he swallowed some sort of insect.
+When he had finished coughing he found that his companion had passed on
+to another aspect of the matter.</p>
+
+<p>"I left him alone with Doctor Twist. I wonder if that was safe."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite safe, miss," the Sergeant-Major assured her. "You can see the
+window's open and the room's on the ground floor. If there's trouble
+and the gentleman starts any verlence, all the doctor's got to do is to
+shout for 'elp and I'll get to the spot at the double and climb in and
+lend a hand."</p>
+
+<p>His visitor regarded him with a shy admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"It's such a relief to feel that there's someone like you here, Mr.
+Flannery. I'm sure you are wonderful in any kind of an emergency."</p>
+
+<p>"People have said so, miss," replied the Sergeant-Major, stroking his
+moustache and smiling another quiet smile.</p>
+
+<p>"But what's worrying me is what's going to happen when my brother comes
+to after the sleeping draught and finds that he is locked up. That's
+what I meant just now when I said he was so clever. The last place he
+was in they promised to see that he stayed there, but he talked them
+into letting him out. He said he belonged to some big family in the
+neighbourhood and had been shut up by mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"He won't get round <i>me</i> that way, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure, miss. If there's one thing you get used to in a place like
+this, it's artfulness. You wouldn't believe how artful some of these
+gentlemen can be. Only yesterday that Admiral Sir Rigby-Rudd toppled
+over in my presence after doing his bending and stretching exercises
+and said he felt faint and he was afraid it was his heart and would
+I go and get him a drop of brandy. Anything like the way he carried
+on when I just poured half a bucketful of cold water down his back
+instead, you never heard in your life. I'm on the watch all the time, I
+can tell you, miss. I wouldn't trust my own mother if she was in here,
+taking the cure. And it's no use arguing with them and pointing out to
+them that they came here voluntarily of their own free will, and are
+paying big money to be exercised and kept away from wines, spirits, and
+rich food. They just spend their whole time thinking up ways of being
+artful."</p>
+
+<p>"Do they ever try to bribe you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss," said Mr. Flannery, a little wistfully. "I suppose they take
+a look at me and think—and see that I'm not the sort of fellow that
+would take bribes."</p>
+
+<p>"My brother is sure to offer you money to let him go."</p>
+
+<p>"How much—how much good," said Sergeant-Major Flannery carefully,
+"does he think that's going to do him?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't take it, would you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who, me, miss? Take money to betray my trust, if you understand the
+expression?"</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever he offers you, I will double. You see, it's so very important
+that he is kept here, where he will be safe from temptation, Mr.
+Flannery," said Dolly, timidly, "I wish you would accept this."</p>
+
+<p>The Sergeant-Major felt a quickening of the spirit as he gazed upon the
+rustling piece of paper in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, miss," he said, taking it. "It really isn't necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. But I would rather you had it. You see, I'm afraid my brother
+may give you a lot of trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Trouble's what I'm here for, miss," said Mr. Flannery bravely.
+"Trouble's what I draw my salary for. Besides, he can't give much
+trouble when he's under lock and key, as the saying is. Don't you
+worry, miss. We're going to make this brother of yours a different man.
+We...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" cried Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>A head and shoulders had shot suddenly out of the study window—the
+head and shoulders of Doctor Twist. The voice of Doctor Twist sounded
+sharply above the droning of bees and insects.</p>
+
+<p>"Flannery!"</p>
+
+<p>"On the spot, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, Flannery. I want you."</p>
+
+<p>"You stay here, miss," counselled Sergeant-Major Flannery paternally.
+"There may be verlence."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">V</p>
+
+<p>There were, however, when Dolly made her way to the study some five
+minutes later, no signs of anything of an exciting and boisterous
+nature having occurred recently in the room. The table was unbroken,
+the carpet unruffled. The chairs stood in their places, and not even a
+picture glass had been cracked. It was evident that the operations had
+proceeded according to plan, and that matters had been carried through
+in what Sergeant-Major Flannery would have termed a nice, easy, tactful
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything jake?" inquired Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Uh-hum," said Chimp, speaking, however, in a voice that quavered a
+little.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist was the only object in the room that looked in any way
+disturbed. He had turned an odd greenish colour, and from time to time
+he swallowed uneasily. Although he had spent a lifetime outside the
+law, Chimp Twist was essentially a man of peace and accustomed to look
+askance at any by-product of his profession that seemed to him to come
+under the heading of rough stuff. This doping of respectable visitors,
+he considered, was distinctly so to be classified; and only Mr.
+Molloy's urgency over the telephone wire had persuaded him to the task.
+He was nervous and apprehensive, in a condition to start at sudden
+noises.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I did what Soapy said. After you left us the guy and I talked
+back and forth for a while, and then I agreed to knock a bit off the
+old man's bill, and then I said 'How about a little drink?' and then we
+have a little drink, and then I slip the stuff you gave me in while he
+wasn't looking. It didn't seem like it was going to act at first."</p>
+
+<p>"It don't. It takes a little time. You don't feel nothing till you
+jerk your head or move yourself, and then it's like as if somebody has
+beaned you one with an iron girder or something. So they tell me," said
+Dolly.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess he must have jerked his head, then. Because all of a sudden
+he went down and out," Chimp gulped. "You—you don't think he's ... I
+mean, you're sure this stuff...?"</p>
+
+<p>Dolly had nothing but contempt for these masculine tremors.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. Do you suppose I go about the place croaking people? He's
+all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he didn't look it. If I'd been a life-insurance company I'd have
+paid up on him without a yip."</p>
+
+<p>"He'll wake up with a headache in a little while, but outside of that
+he'll be as well as he ever was. Where have you been all your life that
+you don't know how kayo drops act?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've never had occasion to be connected with none of this raw work
+before," said Chimp virtuously. "If you'd of seen him when he slumped
+down on the table, you wouldn't be feeling so good yourself, maybe. If
+ever I saw a guy that looked like he was qualified to step straight
+into a coffin, he was him."</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, be yourself, Chimp!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm being myself all right, all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, for Pete's sake, be somebody else. Pull yourself together,
+why can't you. Have a drink."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Twist, struck with the idea.</p>
+
+<p>His hand was still shaking, but he accomplished the delicate task of
+mixing a whisky and soda without disaster.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you with the remains?" asked Dolly, interested.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist, who had been raising the glass to his lips, lowered it
+again. He disapproved of levity of speech at such a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you kindly not call him 'the remains,'" he begged. "It's all
+very well for you to be so easy about it all and to pull this stuff
+about him doing nothing but wake up with a headache, but what I'm
+asking myself is, will he wake up at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cut it out! Sure, he'll wake up."</p>
+
+<p>"But will it be in this world?"</p>
+
+<p>"You drink that up, you poor dumb-bell, and then fix yourself another,"
+advised Dolly. "And make it a bit stronger next time. You seem to need
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist did as directed, and found the treatment beneficial.</p>
+
+<p>"You've nothing to grumble at," Dolly proceeded, still looking on the
+bright side. "What with all this excitement and all, you seem to have
+lost that cold of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," said Chimp, impressed. "It does seem to have got a
+whole lot better."</p>
+
+<p>"Pity you couldn't have got rid of it a little earlier. Then we
+wouldn't have had all this trouble. From what I can make of it, you
+seem to have roused the house by sneezing your head off, and a bunch of
+the help come and stood looking over the banisters at you."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp tottered. "You don't mean somebody saw me last night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure they saw you. Didn't Soapy tell you that over the wire?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could hardly make out all Soapy was saying over the wire. Say! What
+are we going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry. We've done it. The only difficult part is over. Now
+that we've fixed the remains...."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you please...!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, call him what you like. Now that we've fixed that guy the
+thing's simple. By the way, what did you do with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Flannery took him upstairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Where to?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's a room on the top floor. Must have been a nursery or
+something, I guess. Anyway, there's bars to the windows."</p>
+
+<p>"How's the door?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good solid oak. You've got to hand it to the guys who built these old
+English houses. They knew their groceries. When they spit on their
+hands and set to work to make a door, they made one. You couldn't push
+that door down, not if you was an elephant."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's all right, then. Now, listen, Chimp. Here's the low-down.
+We...." She broke off. "What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's what?" asked Mr. Twist, starting violently.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard someone outside in the corridor. Go and look."</p>
+
+<p>With an infinite caution born of alarm, Mr. Twist crept across the
+floor, reached the door and flung it open. The passage was empty. He
+looked up and down it, and Dolly, whose fingers had hovered for an
+instant over the glass which he had left on the table, sat back with an
+air of content.</p>
+
+<p>"My mistake," she said. "I thought I heard something."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp returned to the table. He was still much perturbed.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I'd never gone into this thing," he said, with a sudden gush of
+self-pity. "I felt all along, what with seeing that magpie and the new
+moon through glass...."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, listen!" said Dolly vigorously. "Considering you've stood Soapy
+and me up for practically all there is in this thing except a little
+small change, I'll ask you kindly, if you don't mind, not to stand
+there beefing and expecting me to hold your hand and pat you on the
+head and be a second mother to you. You came into this business because
+you wanted it. You're getting sixty-five per cent. of the gross. So
+what's biting you? You're all right so far."</p>
+
+<p>It was in Mr. Twist's mind to inquire of his companion precisely what
+she meant by this expression, but more urgent matter claimed his
+attention. More even than the exact interpretation of the phrase "so
+far," he wished to know what the next move was.</p>
+
+<p>"What happens now?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We go back to Rudge."</p>
+
+<p>"And collect the stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. And then make our getaway."</p>
+
+<p>No programme could have outlined more admirably Mr. Twist's own
+desires. The mere contemplation of it heartened him. He snatched
+his glass from the table and drained it with a gesture almost
+swash-buckling.</p>
+
+<p>"Soapy will have doped the old man by this time, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose he hasn't been able to?" said Mr. Twist with a return of
+his old nervousness. "Suppose he hasn't had an opportunity?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can always find an opportunity of doping people. You ought to know
+that."</p>
+
+<p>The implied compliment pleased Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," he chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded his head complacently. And immediately something which may
+have been an iron girder or possibly the ceiling and the upper parts of
+the house seemed to strike him on the base of the skull. He had been
+standing by the table, and now, crumpling at the knees, he slid gently
+down to the floor. Dolly, regarding him, recognized instantly what he
+had meant just now when he had spoken of John appearing like a total
+loss to his life-insurance company. The best you could have said of
+Alexander Twist at this moment was that he looked peaceful. She drew in
+her breath a little sharply, and then, being a woman at heart, took a
+cushion from the armchair and placed it beneath his head.</p>
+
+<p>Only then did she go to the telephone and in a gentle voice ask the
+operator to connect her with Rudge Hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Soapy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!"</p>
+
+<p>The promptitude with which the summons of the bell had been answered
+brought a smile of approval to her lips. Soapy, she felt, must have
+been sitting with his head on the receiver.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, sweetie."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm listening, pettie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything's set."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you fixed that guy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, precious. And Chimp, too."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that? Chimp?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. We don't want Chimp around, do we, with that
+sixty-five—thirty-five stuff of his? I just slipped a couple of drops
+into his highball and he's gone off as peaceful as a lamb. Say, wait
+a minute," she added, as the wire hummed with Mr. Molloy's low-voiced
+congratulations. "Hello!" she said, returning.</p>
+
+<p>"What were you doing, honey? Did you hear somebody?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I caught sight of a bunch of lilies in a vase, and I just slipped
+across and put one of them in Chimp's hand. Made it seem more sort of
+natural. Now listen, Soapy. Everything's clear for you at your end
+now, so go right ahead and clean up. I'm going to beat it in that guy
+Carroll's runabout, and I haven't much time, so don't start talking
+about the weather or nothing. I'm going to London, to the Belvidere.
+You collect the stuff and meet me there. Is that all straight?"</p>
+
+<p>"But, pettie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now what?"</p>
+
+<p>"How am I to get the stuff away?"</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake! You can drive a car, can't you? Old Carmody's car
+was outside the stable yard when I left. I guess it's there still. Get
+the stuff and then go and tell the chauffeur that old Carmody wants to
+see him. Then, when he's gone, climb in and drive to Birmingham. Leave
+the car outside the station and take a train. That's simple enough,
+isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause. Admiration seemed to have deprived Mr. Molloy
+of speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Honey," he said at length, in a hushed voice, "when it comes to the
+real smooth stuff you're there every time. Let me just tell you...."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, baby," said Dolly. "Save it till later. I'm in a hurry."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>Soapy Molloy replaced the receiver, and came out of the telephone
+cupboard glowing with the resolve to go right ahead and clean up as his
+helpmeet had directed. Like all good husbands, he felt that his wife
+was an example and an inspiration to him. Mopping his fine forehead,
+for it had been warm in the cupboard with the door shut, he stood for a
+while and mused, sketching out in his mind a plan of campaign.</p>
+
+<p>The prudent man, before embarking on any enterprise which may at a
+moment's notice necessitate his skipping away from a given spot like a
+scalded cat, will always begin by preparing his lines of retreat. Mr.
+Molloy's first act was to go to the stable yard in order to ascertain
+with his own eyes that the Dex-Mayo was still there.</p>
+
+<p>It was. It stood out on the gravel, simply waiting for someone to
+spring to its wheel and be off.</p>
+
+<p>So far, so good. But how far actually was it? The really difficult part
+of the operations, Mr. Molloy could not but recognize, still lay before
+him. The knock-out drops nestled in his waistcoat pocket all ready for
+use, but in order to bring about the happy ending it was necessary for
+him, like some conjuror doing a trick, to transfer them thence to the
+interior of Mr. Lester Carmody. And little by little, chilling his
+enthusiasm, there crept upon Soapy the realization that he had not a
+notion how the deuce this was to be done.</p>
+
+<p>The whole question of administering knock-out drops to a fellow
+creature is a very delicate and complex one. So much depends on the
+co-operation of the party of the second part. Before you can get
+anything in the nature of action, your victim must first be induced to
+start drinking something. At Healthward Ho, Soapy had gathered from the
+recent telephone conversation, no obstacles had arisen. The thing had
+been, apparently, from the start a sort of jolly carousal. But at Rudge
+Hall, it was plain, matters were not going to be nearly so simple.</p>
+
+<p>When you are a guest in a man's house, you cannot very well go about
+thrusting drinks on your host at half-past eleven in the morning.
+Probably Mr. Carmody would not think of taking liquid refreshment till
+lunchtime, and then there would be a butler in and out of the room all
+the while. Besides, lunch would not be for another two hours or more,
+and the whole essence of this enterprise was that it should be put
+through swiftly and at once.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy groaned in spirit. He wandered forth into the garden,
+turning the problem over in his mind with growing desperation, and had
+just come to the conclusion that he was mentally unequal to it, when,
+reaching the low wall that bordered the moat, he saw a sight which sent
+the blood coursing joyously through his veins once more—a sight which
+made the world a thing of sunshine and bird song again.</p>
+
+<p>Out in the middle of the moat lay the punt. In the punt sat Mr.
+Carmody. And in Mr. Carmody's hand was a fishing rod.</p>
+
+<p>Æsthetically considered, wearing as he did a pink shirt and a slouch
+hat which should long ago have been given to the deserving poor, Mr.
+Carmody was not much of a spectacle, but Soapy, eyeing him, felt that
+he had never beheld anything lovelier. He was not a fisherman himself,
+but he knew all about fishermen. They became, he was aware, when
+engaged on their favourite pursuit, virtually monomaniacs. Earthquakes
+might occur in their immediate neighbourhood, dynasties fall and
+pestilences ravage the land, but they would just go on fishing. As long
+as the bait held out, Lester Carmody, sitting in that punt, was for all
+essential purposes as good as if he had been crammed to the brim of the
+finest knock-out drops. It was as though he were in another world.</p>
+
+<p>Exhilaration filled Soapy like a tonic.</p>
+
+<p>"Any luck?" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>"Wah, wah, wah," replied Mr. Carmody inaudibly.</p>
+
+<p>"Stick to it," cried Soapy. "Atta-boy!"</p>
+
+<p>With an encouraging wave of the hand he hurried back to the house.
+The problem which a moment before had seemed to defy solution had now
+become so simple and easy that a child could have negotiated it—any
+child, that is to say, capable of holding a hatchet and endowed with
+sufficient strength to break a cupboard door with it.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm telling the birds, telling the bees," sang Soapy gaily, charging
+into the hall, "Telling the flowers, telling the trees how I love
+you...."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir?" said Sturgis respectfully, suddenly becoming manifest out of the
+infinite.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy gazed at the butler blankly, his wild wood-notes dying away in a
+guttural gurgle. Apart from the embarrassment which always comes upon
+a man when caught singing, he was feeling, as Sturgis himself would
+have put it, stottled. A moment before, the place had been completely
+free from butlers, and where this one could have come from was more
+than he could understand. Rudge Hall's old retainer did not look the
+sort of man who would pop up through traps, but there seemed no other
+explanation of his presence.</p>
+
+<p>And then, close to the cupboard door, Soapy espied another door,
+covered with green baize. This, evidently, was the Sturgis bolt-hole.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you called, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Lovely day, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Beautiful," said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed bulgily at this inconvenient old fossil. Once more, shadows
+had fallen about his world, and he was brooding again on the deep gulf
+that is fixed between artistic conception and detail work.</p>
+
+<p>The broad, artistic conception of breaking open the cupboard door and
+getting away with the swag while Mr. Carmody, anchored out on the moat,
+dabbled for bream or dibbled for chub or sniggled for eels or whatever
+weak-minded thing it is that fishermen do when left to themselves in
+the middle of a sheet of water, was magnificent. It was bold, dashing,
+big in every sense of the word. Only when you came to inspect it in
+detail did it occur to you that it might also be a little noisy.</p>
+
+<p>That was the fatal flaw—the noise. The more Soapy examined the scheme,
+the more clearly did he see that it could not be carried through in
+even comparative quiet. And the very first blow of the hammer or axe or
+chisel selected for the operation must inevitably bring Methuselah's
+little brother popping through that green baize door, full of inquiries.</p>
+
+<p>"Hell!" said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said Soapy. "I was just thinking."</p>
+
+<p>He continued to think, and to such effect that before long he had begun
+to see daylight. There is no doubt that in time of stress the human
+mind has an odd tendency to take off its coat and roll up its sleeves
+and generally spread itself in a spasm of unwonted energy. Probably if
+this thing had been put up to Mr. Molloy as an academic problem over
+the nuts and wine after dinner, he would have had to confess himself
+baffled. Now, however, with such vital issues at stake, it took him
+but a few minutes to reach the conclusion that what he required, as he
+could not break open a cupboard door in silence, was some plausible
+reason for making a noise.</p>
+
+<p>He followed up this line of thought. A noise of smashing wood. In what
+branch of human activity may a man smash wood blamelessly? The answer
+is simple. When he is doing carpentering. What sort of carpentering?
+Why, making something. What? Oh, anything. Yes, but what? Well, say for
+example a rabbit hutch. But why a rabbit hutch? Well, a man might very
+easily have a daughter who, in her girlish, impulsive way, had decided
+to keep pet rabbits, mightn't he? There actually were pet rabbits on
+the Rudge Hall estate, weren't there? Certainly there were. Soapy had
+seen them down at one of the lodges.</p>
+
+<p>The thing began to look good. It only remained to ascertain whether
+Sturgis was the right recipient for this kind of statement. The world
+may be divided broadly into two classes—men who will believe you when
+you suddenly inform them at half-past eleven on a summer morning that
+you propose to start making rabbit hutches, and men who will not.
+Sturgis looked as if he belonged to the former and far more likeable
+class. He looked, indeed, like a man who would believe anything.</p>
+
+<p>"Say!" said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"My daughter wants me to make her a rabbit hutch."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Soapy felt relieved. There had been no incredulity in the other's
+gaze—on the contrary, something that looked very much like a sort of
+senile enthusiasm. He had the air of a butler who had heard good news
+from home.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got such a thing as a packing case or a sugar box or
+something like that? And a hatchet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Then fetch them along."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, sir."</p>
+
+<p>The butler disappeared through his green baize door, and Soapy, to fill
+in the time of waiting, examined the cupboard. It appeared to be a
+very ordinary sort of cupboard, the kind that a resolute man can open
+with one well-directed blow. Soapy felt complacent. Though primarily a
+thinker, it pleased him to feel that he could be the man of action when
+the occasion called.</p>
+
+<p>There was a noise of bumping without. Sturgis reappeared, packing case
+in one hand, hatchet in the other, looking like Noah taking ship's
+stores aboard the Ark.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they are, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks."</p>
+
+<p>"I used to keep roberts when I was a lad, sir," said the butler. "Oh,
+dear, yes. Many's the robert I've made a pet of in my time. Roberts and
+white mice, those were what I was fondest of. And newts in a little
+aquarium."</p>
+
+<p>He leaned easily against the wall, beaming, and Soapy, with deep
+concern, became aware that the Last of the Great Victorians proposed to
+make this thing a social gathering. He appeared to be regarding Soapy
+as the nucleus of a salon.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let me keep you," said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"You aren't keeping me, sir," the butler assured him. "Oh, no, sir, you
+aren't keeping me. I've done my silver. It will be a pleasure to watch
+you, sir. Quite likely I can give you a hint or two if you've never
+made a robert hutch before. Many's the hutch I've made in my time. As a
+lad, I was very handy at that sort of thing."</p>
+
+<p>A dull despair settled upon Soapy. It was plain to him now that he had
+unwittingly delivered himself over into the clutches of a bore who
+had probably been pining away for someone on whom to pour out his
+wealth of stored-up conversation. Words had begun to flutter out of
+this butler like bats out of a barn. He had become a sort of human
+Topical Talk on rabbits. He was speaking of rabbits he had known in
+his hot youth—their manners, customs, and the amount of lettuce they
+had consumed per diem. To a man interested in rabbits but too lazy to
+look the subject up in the encyclopædia the narrative would have been
+enthralling. It induced in Soapy a feverishness that touched the skirts
+of homicidal mania. The thought came into his mind that there are
+other uses to which a hatchet may be put besides the making of rabbit
+hutches. England trembled on the verge of being short one butler.</p>
+
+<p>Sturgis had now become involved in a long story of his early manhood,
+and even had Soapy been less distrait he might have found it difficult
+to enjoy it to the full. It was about an acquaintance of his who had
+kept rabbits, and it suffered in lucidity from his unfortunate habit
+of pronouncing rabbits "roberts," combined with the fact that by a
+singular coincidence the acquaintance had been a Mr. Roberts. Roberts,
+it seemed, had been deeply attached to roberts. In fact, his practice
+of keeping roberts in his bedroom had led to trouble with Mrs. Roberts,
+and in the end Mrs. Roberts had drowned the roberts in the pond and
+Roberts, who thought the world of his roberts and not quite so highly
+of Mrs. Roberts, had never forgiven her.</p>
+
+<p>Here Sturgis paused, apparently for comment.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?" said Soapy, breathing heavily.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"In the pond?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the pond, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Like some Open Sesame, the word suddenly touched a chord in Soapy's
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, listen," he said. "All the while we've been talking I was
+forgetting that Mr. Carmody is out there on the pond."</p>
+
+<p>"The moat, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Call it what you like. Anyway, he's there, fishing, and he told me to
+tell you to take him out something to drink."</p>
+
+<p>Immediately, Sturgis, the lecturer, with a change almost startling in
+its abruptness, became Sturgis, the butler, once more. The fanatic
+rabbit-gleam died out of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I should hurry. His tongue was hanging out when I left him."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the butler wavered. The words had recalled to his mind a
+lop-eared doe which he had once owned, whose habit of putting out its
+tongue and gasping had been the cause of some concern to him in the
+late 'seventies. But he recovered himself. Registering a mental resolve
+to seek out this new-made friend of his later and put the complete
+facts before him, he passed through the green baize door.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy, alone at last, did not delay. With all the pent up energy which
+had been accumulating within him during a quarter of an hour which had
+seemed a lifetime, he swung the hatchet and brought it down. The panel
+splintered. The lock snapped. The door swung open.</p>
+
+<p>There was an electric switch inside the cupboard. He pressed it down
+and was able to see clearly. And, having seen clearly, he drew back,
+his lips trembling with half-spoken words of the regrettable kind which
+a man picks up in the course of a lifetime spent in the less refined
+social circles of New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago.</p>
+
+<p>The cupboard contained an old raincoat, two hats, a rusty golf club,
+six croquet balls, a pamphlet on stock-breeding, three umbrellas, a
+copy of the <i>Parish Magazine</i> for the preceding November, a shoe, a
+mouse, and a smell of apples, but no suitcase.</p>
+
+<p>That much Soapy had been able to see in the first awful, disintegrating
+instant.</p>
+
+<p>No bag, box, portmanteau, or suitcase of any kind or description
+whatsoever.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Hope does not readily desert the human breast. After the first numbing
+impact of any shock, we most of us have a tendency to try to persuade
+ourselves that things may not be so bad as they seem. Some explanation,
+we feel, will be forthcoming shortly, putting the whole matter in a
+different light. And so, after a few moments during which he stood
+petrified, muttering some of the comments which on the face of it the
+situation seemed to demand, Soapy cheered up a little.</p>
+
+<p>He had had, he reflected, no opportunity of private speech with his
+host this morning. If Mr. Carmody had decided to change his plans and
+deposit the suitcase in some other hiding place he might have done so
+in quite good faith without Soapy's knowledge. For all he knew, in
+mentally labelling Mr. Carmody as a fat, pop-eyed, crooked, swindling,
+pie-faced, double-crossing Judas, he might be doing him an injustice.
+Feeling calmer, though still anxious, he left the house and started
+toward the moat.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way down the garden, he encountered Sturgis, returning with an
+empty tray.</p>
+
+<p>"You must have misunderstood Mr. Carmody, sir," said the butler,
+genially, as one rabbit fancier to another. "He says he did not ask for
+any drink. But he came ashore and had it. If you're looking for him,
+you will find him in the boathouse."</p>
+
+<p>And in the boathouse Mr. Carmody was, lolling at his ease on the
+cushions of the punt, sipping the contents of a long glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo," said Mr. Carmody. "There you are."</p>
+
+<p>Soapy descended the steps. What he had to say was not the kind of thing
+a prudent man shouts at long range.</p>
+
+<p>"Say!" said Soapy in a cautious undertone. "I've been trying to get a
+word with you all the morning. But that darned policeman was around all
+the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Something on your mind?" said Mr. Carmody affably. "I've caught two
+perch, a bream, and a grayling," he added, finishing the contents of
+his glass with a good deal of relish.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the condition of Soapy's nervous system that he very nearly
+damned the perch, the bream, and the grayling, in the order named. But
+he checked himself in time. If ever, he felt, there was a moment when
+diplomacy was needed, this was it.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," he said, "I've been thinking."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been wondering if, after all, that closet you were going to put
+the stuff in is a safe place. Somebody might be apt to take a look in
+it. Maybe," said Soapy, tensely, "that occurred to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"It just crossed my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? I thought perhaps you might have been having a look in that
+cupboard yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Soapy moistened his lips, which had become uncomfortably dry.</p>
+
+<p>"But you locked it, surely?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I locked it," said Mr. Carmody. "But it struck me that after you
+had got the butler out of the way by telling him to bring me a drink,
+you might have thought of breaking the door open."</p>
+
+<p>In the silence which followed this devastating remark there suddenly
+made itself heard an odd, gurgling noise like a leaking cistern, and
+Soapy, gazing at his host, was shocked to observe that he had given
+himself up to an apoplectic spasm of laughter. Mr. Carmody's rotund
+body was quivering like a jelly. His eyes were closed, and he was
+rocking himself to and fro. And from his lips proceeded those hideous
+sounds of mirth.</p>
+
+<p>The hope which until this moment had been sustaining Soapy had never
+been a strong, robust hope. From birth it had been an invalid. And now,
+as he listened to this laughter, the poor, sickly thing coughed quietly
+and died.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear!" said Mr. Carmody, recovering. "Very funny. Very funny."</p>
+
+<p>"You think it's funny, do you?" said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"I do," said Mr. Carmody sincerely. "I wish I could have seen your face
+when you looked in that cupboard."</p>
+
+<p>Soapy had nothing to say. He was beaten, crushed, routed, and he knew
+it. He stared out hopelessly on a bleak world. Outside the boathouse
+the sun was still shining, but not for Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"I've seen through you all along, my man," proceeded Mr. Carmody, with
+ungenerous triumph. "Not from the very beginning, perhaps, because I
+really did suppose for a while that you were what you professed to be.
+The first thing that made me suspicious was when I cabled over to New
+York to make inquiries about a well-known financier named Thomas G.
+Molloy and was informed that no such person existed."</p>
+
+<p>Soapy did not speak. The bitterness of his meditations precluded words.
+His eyes were fixed on the trees and flowers on the other side of the
+water, and he was disliking these very much. Nature had done its best
+for the scene, and he thought Nature a washout.</p>
+
+<p>"And then," proceeded Mr. Carmody, "I listened outside the study window
+while you and your friends were having your little discussion. And
+I heard all I wanted to hear. Next time you have one of these board
+meetings of yours, Mr. Molloy, I suggest that you close the window and
+lower your voices."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah?" said Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>It was not, he forced himself to admit, much of a retort, but it was
+the best he could think of. He was in the depths, and men who are in
+the depths seldom excel in the matter of rapier-like repartee.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought the matter over, and decided that my best plan was to allow
+matters to proceed. I was disappointed, of course, to discover that
+that cheque of yours for a million or two million or whatever it was
+would not be coming my way. But," said Mr. Carmody philosophically,
+"there is always the insurance money. It should amount to a nice little
+sum. Not what a man like you, accustomed to big transactions with Mr.
+Schwab and Pierpont Morgan, would call much, of course, but quite
+satisfactory to me."</p>
+
+<p>"You think so?" said Soapy, goaded to speech. "You think you're going
+to clean up on the insurance?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, say, listen, let me tell you something. The insurance company
+is going to send a fellow down to inquire, isn't it? Well, what's to
+prevent me spilling the beans?"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's to keep me from telling him the burglary was a put-up job?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody smiled tranquilly.</p>
+
+<p>"Your good sense, I should imagine. How could you make such a story
+credible without involving yourself in more unpleasantness than I
+should imagine you would desire? I think I shall be able to rely on you
+for sympathetic silence, Mr. Molloy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so."</p>
+
+<p>And Soapy, reflecting, thought so, too. For the process of
+bean-spilling to be enjoyable, he realized, the conditions have to be
+right.</p>
+
+<p>"I am offering a little reward," said Mr. Carmody, gently urging the
+punt out into the open, "just to make everything seem more natural.
+One thousand pounds is the sum I am proposing to give for the recovery
+of this stolen property. You had better try for that. Well, I must not
+keep you here all the morning, chattering away like this. No doubt you
+have much to do."</p>
+
+<p>The punt floated out into the sunshine, and the roof of the boathouse
+hid this fat, conscienceless man from Soapy's eyes. From somewhere out
+in the great open spaces beyond came the sound of a paddle, wielded
+with a care-free joyousness. Whatever might be his guest's state of
+mind, Mr. Carmody was plainly in the pink.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy climbed the steps listlessly. The interview had left him weak
+and shaken. He brooded dully on this revelation of the inky depths of
+Lester Carmody's soul. It seemed to him that if this was what England's
+upper classes (who ought to be setting an example) were like, Great
+Britain could not hope to continue much longer as a first-class power,
+and it gave him in his anguish a little satisfaction to remember that
+in years gone by his ancestors had thrown off Britain's yoke. Beyond
+burning his eyebrows one Fourth of July, when a boy, with a maroon
+that exploded prematurely, he had never thought much about this affair
+before, but now he was conscious of a glow of patriotic fervour. If
+General Washington had been present at that moment Soapy would have
+shaken hands with him.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy wandered aimlessly through the sunlit garden. The little spurt
+of consolation caused by the reflection that some hundred and fifty
+years ago the United States of America had severed relations with a
+country which was to produce a man like Lester Carmody had long since
+ebbed away, leaving emptiness behind it. He was feeling very low, and
+in urgent need of one of those largely advertised tonics which claim to
+relieve Anæmia, Brain-Fag, Lassitude, Anxiety, Palpitations, Faintness,
+Melancholia, Exhaustion, Neurasthenia, Muscular Limpness, and
+Depression of Spirits. For he had got them all, especially brain-fag
+and melancholia; and the sudden appearance of Sturgis, fluttering
+toward him down the gravel path, provided nothing in the nature of a
+cure.</p>
+
+<p>He felt that he had had all he wanted of the butler's conversation.
+Even of the most stimulating society enough is enough, and to Soapy
+about half a minute of Sturgis seemed a good medium dose for an adult.
+He would have fled, but there was nowhere to go. He remained where he
+was, making his expression as forbidding as possible. A motion-picture
+director could have read that expression like a book. Soapy was
+registering deep disinclination to talk about rabbits.</p>
+
+<p>But for the moment, it appeared, Sturgis had put rabbits on one side.
+Other matters occupied his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but have you seen Mr. John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. who?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. John, sir."</p>
+
+<p>So deep was Soapy's preoccupation that for a moment the name conveyed
+nothing to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Carmody's nephew, sir. Mr. Carroll."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? Yes, he went off in his car with my daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Will he be gone long, do you think, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Soapy could answer that one.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said. "He won't be back for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"You see, when I took Mr. Carmody his drink, sir, he told me to tell
+Bolt, the chauffeur, to give me the ticket."</p>
+
+<p>"What ticket?" asked Soapy wearily.</p>
+
+<p>The butler was only too glad to reply. He had feared that this talk of
+theirs might be about to end all too quickly, and these explanations
+helped to prolong it. And, now that he knew that there was no need to
+go on searching for John, his time was his own again.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a ticket for a bag which Mr. Carmody sent Bolt to leave at the
+cloak room at Shrub Hill station, in Worcester, this morning, sir. I
+now ascertain from Bolt that he gave it to Mr. John to give to Mr.
+Carmody."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"And Mr. John has apparently gone off without giving it to him.
+However, no doubt it is quite safe. Did you make satisfactory progress
+with the hutch, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"The robert hutch, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>A look of concern came into Sturgis's face. His companion's manner was
+strange.</p>
+
+<p>"Is anything the matter, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I bring you something to drink, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Few men ever become so distrait that this particular question fails to
+penetrate. Soapy nodded feverishly. Something to drink was precisely
+what at this moment he felt he needed most. Moreover, the process of
+fetching it would relieve him for a time, at least, of the society of
+a butler who seemed to combine in equal proportions the outstanding
+characteristics of a porous plaster and a gadfly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, sir."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>Soapy's mind was in a whirl. He could almost feel the brains inside his
+head heaving and tossing like an angry ocean. So that was what that
+smooth old crook had done with the stuff—stored it away in a Left
+Luggage office at a railway station! If circumstances had been such
+as to permit of a more impartial and detached attitude of mind, Soapy
+would have felt for Mr. Carmody's resource and ingenuity nothing but
+admiration. A Left Luggage office was an ideal place in which to store
+stolen property, as good as the innermost recesses of some safe deposit
+company's deepest vault.</p>
+
+<p>But, numerous as were the emotions surging in his bosom, admiration was
+not one of them. For a while he gave himself up almost entirely to that
+saddest of mental exercises, the brooding on what might have been. If
+only he had known that John had the ticket...!</p>
+
+<p>But he was a practical man. It was not his way to waste time torturing
+himself with thoughts of past failures. The future claimed his
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>What to do?</p>
+
+<p>All, he perceived, was not yet lost. It would be absurd to pretend
+that things were shaping themselves ideally, but disaster might still
+be retrieved. It would be embarrassing, no doubt, to meet Chimp Twist
+after what had occurred, but a man who would win to wealth must learn
+to put up with embarrassments. The only possible next move was to go
+over to Healthward Ho, reveal to Chimp what had occurred, and with his
+co-operation recover the ticket from John.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy brightened. Another possibility had occurred to him. If he were
+to reach Healthward Ho with the minimum of delay, it might be that
+he would find both Chimp and John still under the influence of those
+admirable drops, in which case a man of his resource would surely be
+able to insinuate himself into John's presence long enough to be able
+to remove a Left Luggage ticket from his person.</p>
+
+<p>But if 'twere done, then, 'twere well 'twere done quickly. What he
+needed was the Dex-Mayo. And the Dex-Mayo was standing outside the
+stable yard, waiting for him. He became a thing of dash and activity.
+For many years he had almost given up the exercise of running, but he
+ran now like the lissom athlete he had been in his early twenties.</p>
+
+<p>And as he came panting round the back of the house the first thing he
+saw was the tail end of the car disappearing into the stable yard.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi!" shouted Soapy, using for the purpose the last remains of his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>The Dex-Mayo vanished. And Soapy, very nearly a spent force now,
+arrived at the opening of the stable yard just in time to see Bolt, the
+chauffeur, putting the key of the garage in his pocket after locking
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>Bolt was a thing of beauty. He gleamed in the sunshine. He was wearing
+a new hat, his Sunday clothes, and a pair of yellow shoes that might
+have been bits chipped off the sun itself. There was a carnation in his
+buttonhole. He would have lent tone to a garden party at Buckingham
+Palace.</p>
+
+<p>He regarded Soapy with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Been having a little run, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"The car!" croaked Soapy.</p>
+
+<p>"I've just put it away, sir. Mr. Carmody has given me the day off to
+attend the wedding of the wife's niece over at Upton Snodsbury."</p>
+
+<p>"I want the car."</p>
+
+<p>"I've just put it away, sir," said Bolt, speaking more slowly and with
+the manner of one explaining something to an untutored foreigner. "Mr.
+Carmody has given me the day off. Mrs. Bolt's niece is being married
+over at Upton Snodsbury. And she's got a lovely day for it," said the
+chauffeur, glancing at the sky with something as near approval as a
+chauffeur ever permits himself. "Happy the bride that the sun shines
+on, they say. Not that I agree altogether with these old sayings. I
+know that when I and Mrs. Bolt was married it rained the whole time
+like cats and dogs, and we've been very happy. Very happy indeed
+we've been, taking it by and large. I don't say we haven't had our
+disagreements, but, taking it one way and another...."</p>
+
+<p>It began to seem to Soapy that the staffs of English country houses
+must be selected primarily for their powers of conversation. Every
+domestic with whom he had come in contact in Rudge Hall so far had
+at his disposal an apparently endless flow of lively small-talk.
+The butler, if you let him, would gossip all day about rabbits,
+and here was the chauffeur apparently settling down to dictate his
+autobiography. And every moment was precious!</p>
+
+<p>With a violent effort he contrived to take in a stock of breath.</p>
+
+<p>"I want the car, to go to Healthward Ho. I can drive it."</p>
+
+<p>The chauffeur's manner changed. Up till now he had been the cheery
+clubman meeting an old friend in the smoking room and drawing him aside
+for a long, intimate chat, but at this shocking suggestion he froze. He
+gazed at Soapy with horrified incredulity.</p>
+
+<p>"Drive the Dex-Mayo, sir?" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Over to Healthward Ho."</p>
+
+<p>The crisis passed. Bolt swallowed convulsively and was himself once
+more. One must be patient, he realized, with laymen. They do not
+understand. When they come to a chauffeur and calmly propose that their
+vile hands shall touch his sacred steering-wheel they are not trying to
+be deliberately offensive. It is simply that they do not know.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid that wouldn't quite do, sir," he said with a faint,
+reproving smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think I can't drive?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not the Dex-Mayo you can't, sir." Bolt spoke a little curtly, for
+he had been much moved and was still shaken. "Mr. Carmody don't like
+nobody handling his car but me."</p>
+
+<p>"But I must go over to Healthward Ho. It's important. Business."</p>
+
+<p>The chauffeur reflected. Fundamentally he was a kindly man, who liked
+to do his Good Deed daily.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, there's an old push-bike of mine lying in the stables. You
+could take that if you liked. It's a little rusty, not having been used
+for some time, but I dare say it would carry you as far as Healthward
+Ho."</p>
+
+<p>Soapy hesitated for a moment. The thought of a twenty-mile journey on
+a machine which he had always supposed to have become obsolete during
+his knickerbocker days made him quail a little. Then the thought of his
+mission lent him strength. He was a desperate man, and desperate men
+must do desperate things.</p>
+
+<p>"Fetch it out!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Bolt fetched it out, and Soapy, looking upon it, quailed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that it?" he said dully.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it, sir," said the chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one adjective to describe this push-bike—the adjective
+"blackguardly." It had that leering air, shared by some parrots and the
+baser variety of cat, of having seen and been jauntily familiar with
+all the sin of the world. It looked low and furtive. Its handle-bars
+curved up instead of down, it had gaps in its spokes, and its pedals
+were naked and unashamed. A sans-culotte of a bicycle. The sort of
+bicycle that snaps at strangers.</p>
+
+<p>"H'm!" said Soapy, ruminating.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Soapy, still ruminating.</p>
+
+<p>Then he remembered again how imperative was the need of reaching
+Healthward Ho somehow.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said, with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>He climbed onto the machine, and after one majestic wobble passed
+through the gates into the park, pedalling bravely. As he disappeared
+from view, there floated back to Bolt, standing outside the stable
+yard, a single, agonized "Ouch!"</p>
+
+<p>Chauffeurs do not laugh, but they occasionally smile. Bolt smiled. He
+had been bitten by that bicycle himself.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>It was twenty minutes past one that butler Sturgis, dozing in his
+pantry, was jerked from slumber by the sound of the telephone bell.
+He had been hoping for an uninterrupted siesta, for he had had a
+perplexing and trying morning. First, on top of the most sensational
+night of his life, there had been all the nervous excitement of seeing
+policemen roaming about the place. Then the American gentleman, Mr.
+Molloy, had told him that Mr. Carmody wanted something to drink, and
+Mr. Carmody had denied having ordered it. Then Mr. Molloy had asked
+for a drink himself and had disappeared without waiting to get it.
+And, finally, there was the matter of the cupboard. Mr. Molloy, after
+starting to build a rabbit hutch, had apparently suspended operations
+in favour of smashing in the door of the cupboard at the foot of the
+stairs. It was all very puzzling to Sturgis, and, like most men of
+settled habit, he found the process of being puzzled upsetting.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the telephone, and a silver voice came to him over the wire.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the Hall? I want to speak to Mr. Carroll."</p>
+
+<p>Sturgis recognized the voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Wyvern?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Is that Sturgis? I say, Sturgis, what has become of Mr. Carroll?
+I was expecting him here half an hour ago. Have you seen him about
+anywhere?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen him since shortly after breakfast, miss. I understand
+that he went off in his little car with Miss Molloy."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss. Some time ago."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence at the other end of the wire.</p>
+
+<p>"With Miss Molloy?" said the silver voice flatly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss."</p>
+
+<p>Silence again.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he say when he would be back?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss. But I understand that he was not proposing to return till
+quite late in the day."</p>
+
+<p>More silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss. Any message I can give him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you.... No...! No, it doesn't matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, miss."</p>
+
+<p>Sturgis returned to his pantry. Pat, hanging up the receiver, went out
+into her garden. Her face was set, and her lips compressed.</p>
+
+<p>A snail crossed her path. She did not tread on it, for she had a kind
+heart, but she gave it a look. It was a look which, had it reached
+John, at whom it was really directed, would have scorched him.</p>
+
+<p>She walked to the gate and stood leaning on it, staring straight before
+her.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>It had been the opinion of Dolly Molloy, expressed during her
+conversation with Mr. Twist, that John, on awaking from his drugged
+slumber, would find himself suffering a headache. The event proved her
+a true prophet.</p>
+
+<p>John, as became one who prized physical fitness, had been all his life
+a rather unusually abstemious young man. But on certain rare occasions
+dotted through the years of his sojourn at Oxford he had permitted
+himself to relax. As for instance, the night of his twenty-first
+birthday ... Boat-Race Night in his freshman year ... and, perhaps
+most notable of all, the night of the university football match in
+the season when he had first found a place in the Oxford team and
+had helped to win one of the most spectacular games ever seen at
+Twickenham. To celebrate each of these events he had lapsed from his
+normal austerity, and every time had wakened on the morrow to a world
+full of grayness and horror and sharp, shooting pains. But never had he
+experienced anything to compare with what he was feeling now.</p>
+
+<p>He was dimly conscious that strange things must have been happening to
+him, and that these things had ended by depositing him on a strange
+bed in a strange room, but he was at present in no condition to give
+his situation any sustained thought. He merely lay perfectly still,
+concentrating all his powers on the difficult task of keeping his head
+from splitting in half.</p>
+
+<p>When eventually, moving with exquisite care, he slid from the bed and
+stood up, the first thing of which he became aware was that the sun
+had sunk so considerably that it was now shining almost horizontally
+through the barred window of the room. The air, moreover, which
+accompanied its rays through the window had that cool fragrance which
+indicates the approach of evening.</p>
+
+<p>Poets have said some good things in their time about this particular
+hour of the day, but to John on this occasion it brought no romantic
+thoughts. He was merely bewildered. He had started out from Rudge not
+long after eleven in the morning, and here it was late afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>He moved to the window, feeling like Rip van Winkle. And presently the
+sweet air, playing about his aching brow, restored him so considerably
+that he was able to make deductions and arrive at the truth. The last
+thing he could recollect was the man Twist handing him a tall glass. In
+that glass, it now became evident, must have lurked the cause of all
+his troubles. With an imbecile lack of the most elementary caution,
+inexcusable in one who had been reading detective stories all his life,
+he had allowed himself to be drugged.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bitter thought, but he was not permitted to dwell on it for
+long. Gradually, driving everything else from his mind, there stole
+upon him the realization that unless he found something immediately
+to slake the thirst which was burning him up he would perish of
+spontaneous combustion. There was a jug on the wash stand, and,
+tottering to it, he found it mercifully full to the brim. For the next
+few moments he was occupied, to the exclusion of all other mundane
+matters, with the task of seeing how much of the contents of this jug
+he could swallow without pausing for breath.</p>
+
+<p>This done, he was at leisure to look about him and examine the position
+of affairs.</p>
+
+<p>That he was a prisoner was proved directly he tested the handle of the
+door. And, as further evidence, there were those bars on the window.
+Whatever else might be doubtful, the one thing certain was that he
+would have to remain in this room until somebody came along and let him
+out.</p>
+
+<p>His first reaction on making this discovery was a feeling of irritation
+at the silliness of the whole business. Where was the sense of it? Did
+this man Twist suppose that in the heart of peaceful Worcestershire he
+could immure a fellow for ever in an upper room of his house?</p>
+
+<p>And then his clouded intellect began to function more nimbly. Twist's
+behaviour, he saw, was not so childish as he had supposed. It had been
+imperative for him to gain time in order to get away with his loot;
+and, John realized, he had most certainly gained it. And the longer
+he remained in this room, the more complete would be the scoundrel's
+triumph.</p>
+
+<p>John became active. He went to the door again and examined it
+carefully. A moment's inspection showed him that nothing was to be
+hoped for from that quarter. A violent application of his shoulder did
+not make the solid oak so much as quiver.</p>
+
+<p>He tried the window. The bars were firm. Tugging had no effect on them.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed to John only one course to pursue.</p>
+
+<p>He shouted.</p>
+
+<p>It was an injudicious move. The top of his head did not actually come
+off, but it was a very near thing. By a sudden clutch at both temples
+he managed to avert disaster in the nick of time, and tottered weakly
+to the bed. There for some minutes he remained while unseen hands drove
+red-hot rivets into his skull.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the agony abated. He was able to rise again and make his way
+feebly to the jug, which he had now come to look on as his only friend
+in the world.</p>
+
+<p>He had just finished his second non-stop draught when something
+attracted his notice out of the corner of his eye, and he saw that in
+the window beside him were framed a head and shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoy!" observed the head in a voice like a lorry full of steel girders
+passing over cobblestones. "I've brought you a cuppertea."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>The head was red in colour and ornamented half-way down by a large and
+impressive moustache, waxed at the ends. The shoulders were broad and
+square, the eyes prawn-like. The whole apparition, in short, one could
+tell at a glance, was a sample or first instalment of the person of
+a sergeant-major. And unless he had dropped from heaven—which, from
+John's knowledge of sergeant-majors, seemed unlikely—the newcomer
+must be standing on top of a ladder.</p>
+
+<p>And such, indeed, was the case. Sergeant-Major Flannery, though no
+acrobat, had nobly risked life and limb by climbing to this upper
+window to see how his charge was getting on and to bring him a little
+refreshment.</p>
+
+<p>"Take your cuppertea, young fellow," said Mr. Flannery.</p>
+
+<p>The hospitality had arrived too late. In the matter of tea-drinking
+John was handicapped by the fact that he had just swallowed
+approximately a third of a jug of water. He regretted to be compelled
+to reject the contribution for lack of space. But as what he desired
+most at the moment was human society and conversation, he advanced
+eagerly to the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Flannery's my name, young fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"How did I get here?"</p>
+
+<p>"In that room?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I put you there."</p>
+
+<p>"You did, did you?" said John. "Open this door at once, damn you!"</p>
+
+<p>The Sergeant-Major shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Language!" he said reprovingly. "Profanity won't do you no good, young
+man. Cursing and swearing won't 'elp you. You just drink your cuppertea
+and don't let's have no nonsense. If you'd made a 'abit in the past of
+drinking more tea and less of the other thing, you wouldn't be in what
+I may call your present predicament."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you open this door?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I will not open that door. There aren't going to be no doors
+opened till your conduct and behaviour has been carefully examined in
+the course of a day or so and we can be sure there'll be no verlence."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," said John, curbing a desire to jab at this man through the
+bars with the teaspoon. "I don't know who you are...."</p>
+
+<p>"Flannery's the name, sir, as I said before. Sergeant-Major Flannery."</p>
+
+<p>"... but I can't believe you're in this business...."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I am, sir. I am Doctor Twist's assistant."</p>
+
+<p>"But this man is a criminal, you fool...."</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery seemed pained rather than annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, sir. A little civility, if you please. This, what I may
+call contumacious attitude, isn't helping you. Surely you can see that
+for yourself? Always remember, sir, the voice with the smile wins."</p>
+
+<p>"This fellow Twist burgled our house last night. And all the while
+you're keeping me shut up here he's getting away."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so, sir? What house would that be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rudge Hall."</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard of it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's near Rudge-in-the-Vale. Twenty miles from here. Mr. Carmody's
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Lester Carmody who was here taking the cure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm his nephew."</p>
+
+<p>"His nephew, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"It so 'appens," said Mr. Flannery, with quiet satisfaction, removing
+one hand from the window bars in order to fondle his moustache, "that
+I've seen Mr. Carmody's nephew. Tallish, thinnish, pleasant-faced young
+fellow. He was over here to visit Mr. Carmody during the latter's
+temp'ry residence. I had him pointed out to me."</p>
+
+<p>Painful though the process was, John felt compelled to grit his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"That was Mr. Carmody's other nephew."</p>
+
+<p>"Other nephew, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"My cousin."</p>
+
+<p>"Your cousin, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"His name's Hugo."</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" cried John. "Are you a parrot?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery, if he had not been standing on a ladder, would no doubt
+have drawn himself up haughtily at this outburst. Being none too
+certain of his footing, he contented himself with looking offended.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," he said with a dignity which became him well, "in reply to
+your question, I am not a parrot. I am a salaried assistant at Doctor
+Twist's health-establishment, detailed to look after the patients and
+keep them away from the cigarettes and see that they do their exercises
+in a proper manner. And, as I said to the young lady, I understand
+human nature and am a match for artfulness of any description. What's
+more, it was precisely this kind of artfulness on your part that
+the young lady warned me against. 'Be careful, Sergeant-Major,' she
+said to me, clasping her 'ands in what I may call an agony of appeal,
+'that this poor, misguided young son of a what-not don't come it over
+you with his talk about being the Lost Heir of some family living in
+the near neighbourhood. Because he's sure to try it on, you can take
+it from me, Sergeant-Major,' she said. And I said to the young lady,
+'Miss,' I said, 'he won't come it over Egbert Flannery. Not him. I've
+seen too much of that sort of thing, miss,' I said. And the young lady
+said, 'Gawd's strewth, Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'I wish there was
+more men in the world like you, Sergeant-Major, because then it would
+be a dam' sight better place than it is, Sergeant-Major.'" He paused.
+Then, realizing an omission, added the words, "she said."</p>
+
+<p>John clutched at his throbbing head.</p>
+
+<p>"Young lady? What young lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know well enough what young lady, sir. The young lady what brought
+you here to leave you in our charge. That young lady."</p>
+
+<p>"That young lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. The one who brought you here."</p>
+
+<p>"Brought me here?"</p>
+
+<p>"And left you in our charge."</p>
+
+<p>"Left me in your charge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, sir!" said Mr. Flannery. "Are you a parrot?"</p>
+
+<p>The adroit thrust made no impression on John. His mind was too busy
+to recognize it for what it was—viz., about the cleverest repartee
+ever uttered by a non-commissioned officer of His Majesty's regular
+forces. A monstrous suspicion had smitten him, with the effect almost
+of a physical blow. Suspicion? It was more than a suspicion. If it was
+at Dolly Molloy's request that he was now locked up in this infernal
+room, then, bizarre as it might seem, Dolly Molloy must in some way be
+connected with the nefarious activities of the man Twist. The links
+that connected the two might be obscure, but as to the fact there could
+be no doubt whatever.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean ..." he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean your sister, sir, who brought you over here in her car."</p>
+
+<p>"What! That was my car."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, sir, that won't do. I saw her myself driving off in it some
+hours ago. She waved her 'and to me," said Mr. Flannery, caressing his
+moustache and allowing a note of tender sentiment to creep into his
+voice. "Yes, sir! She turned and waved her 'and."</p>
+
+<p>John made no reply. He was beyond speech. Trifling though it might seem
+to an insurance company in comparison with the loss of Rudge Hall's
+more valuable treasures, the theft of the two-seater smote him a blow
+from which he could not hope to rally. He loved his Widgeon Seven. He
+had nursed it, tended it, oiled it, watered it, watched over it in
+sickness and in health as if it had been a baby sister. And now it had
+gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here!" he cried feverishly. "You must let me out of here. At
+once!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I promised your sister...."</p>
+
+<p>"She isn't my sister! I haven't got a sister! Good heavens, man, can't
+you understand...."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand very well, sir. Artfulness! I was prepared for it."
+Sergeant-Major Flannery paused for an instant. "The young lady," he
+said dreamily, "was afraid, too, that you might try to bribe me. She
+warned me most particular."</p>
+
+<p>John did not speak. His Widgeon Seven! Gone!</p>
+
+<p>"Bribe me!" repeated Sergeant-Major Flannery, his eyes widening. It was
+evident that the mere thought of such a thing sickened this good man.
+"She said you would try to bribe me to let you go."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can make your mind easy," said John between his teeth. "I
+haven't any money."</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Flannery said "Ho!" in a rather
+short manner. And silence fell again.</p>
+
+<p>It was broken by the Sergeant-Major, in a moralizing vein.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a wonder to me," he said, and there was peevishness in his
+voice, "that a young fellow with a lovely sister like what you've got
+can bring himself to lower himself to the beasts of the field, as
+the saying is. Drink in moderation is one thing. Mopping it up and
+becoming verlent and a nuisance to all is another. If you'd ever seen
+one of them lantern slides showing what alcohol does to the liver of
+the excessive drinker maybe you'd have pulled up sharp while there
+was time. And not," said the Sergeant-Major, still with that oddly
+querulous note in his voice, "have wasted all your money on what could
+only do you 'arm. If you 'adn't of give in so to your self-indulgence
+and what I may call besottedness, you would now 'ave your pocket full
+of money to spend how you fancied." He sighed. "Your cuppertea's got
+cold," he said moodily.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want any tea."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll be leaving you," said Mr. Flannery. "If you require
+anything, press the bell. Nobody'll take any notice of it."</p>
+
+<p>He withdrew cautiously down the ladder, and, having paused at the
+bottom to shake his head reproachfully, disappeared from view.</p>
+
+<p>John did not miss him. His desire for company had passed. What
+he wanted now was to be alone and to think. Not that there was
+any likelihood of his thoughts being pleasant ones. The more he
+contemplated the iniquity of the Molloy family, the deeper did the iron
+enter into his soul. If ever he set eyes on Thomas G. Molloy again....</p>
+
+<p>He set eyes on him again, oddly enough, at this very moment. From where
+he stood, looking out through the bars of the window, there was visible
+to him a considerable section of the drive. And up the drive at this
+juncture, toiling painfully, came Mr. Molloy in person, seated on a
+bicycle.</p>
+
+<p>As John craned his neck and glared down with burning eyes, the rider
+dismounted, and the bicycle, which appeared to have been waiting for
+the chance, bit him neatly in the ankle with its left pedal. John was
+too far away to hear the faint cry of agony which escaped the suffering
+man, but he could see his face. It was a bright crimson face, powdered
+with dust, and its features were twisted in anguish.</p>
+
+<p>John went back to the jug and took another long drink. In the spectacle
+just presented to him he had found a faint, feeble glimmering of
+consolation.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>On leaving John, Sergeant-Major Flannery's first act was to go to
+what he was accustomed to call the orderly room and make his report.
+He reached it only a few minutes after its occupant's return to
+consciousness. Chimp Twist had opened his eyes and staggered to his
+feet at just about the moment when the Sergeant-Major was offering John
+the cup of tea.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist's initial discovery, like John's, was that he had a headache.
+He then set himself to try to decide where he was. His mind clearing
+a little, he was enabled to gather that he was in England ... and,
+assembling the facts by degrees, in his study at Healthward Ho
+(formerly Graveney Court), Worcestershire. After that, everything came
+back to him, and he stood holding to the table with one hand and still
+grasping the lily with the other, and gave himself up to scorching
+reflections on the subject of the resourceful Mrs. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>He was still busy with these when there was a forceful knock on the
+door and Sergeant-Major Flannery entered.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp's grip of the table tightened. He held himself together like one
+who sees a match set to a train of gunpowder and awaits the shattering
+explosion. His visitor's lips had begun to move, and Chimp could
+guess how that parade-ground voice was going to sound to a man with a
+headache like his.</p>
+
+<p>"H'rarp-h'm," began Mr. Flannery, clearing his throat, and Chimp with
+a sharp cry reeled to a chair and sank into it. The noise had hit him
+like a shell. He cowered where he sat, peering at the Sergeant-Major
+with haggard eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo-er!" boomed Mr. Flannery, noting these symptoms. "You aren't
+looking up to the mark, Mr. Twist."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp dropped the lily, feeling the necessity of having both hands
+free. He found he experienced a little relief if he put the palms over
+his eyes and pressed hard.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what it is, sir," roared the sympathetic Sergeant-Major.
+"What's 'appened 'ere is that that nasty, feverish cold of yours
+has gone and struck inwards. It's left your 'ead and has penetrated
+internally to your vitals. If only you'd have took taraxacum and hops
+like I told you...."</p>
+
+<p>"Go away!" moaned Chimp, adding in a low voice what seemed to him a
+suitable destination.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery regarded him with mild reproach.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing gained, Mr. Twist, by telling me to get to 'ell out of
+here. I've merely come for the single and simple reason that I thought
+you would wish to know I've had a conversation with the verlent case
+upstairs, and the way it looks to me, sir, subject to your approval, is
+that it 'ud be best not to let him out from under lock and key for some
+time to come. True, 'e did not attempt anything in the nature of actual
+physical attack, being prevented no doubt by the fact that there was
+iron bars between him and me, but his manner throughout was peculiar,
+not to say odd, and I recommend that all communications be conducted
+till further notice through the window."</p>
+
+<p>"Do what you like," said Chimp faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't what I like, sir," bellowed Mr. Flannery virtuously. "It's
+what you like and instruct, me being in your employment and only 'ere
+to carry out your orders smartly as you give them. And there's one
+other matter, sir. As perhaps you are aware, the young lady went off in
+the little car ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk to me about the young lady."</p>
+
+<p>"I was only about to say, Mr. Twist, that you will doubtless be
+surprised to hear that for some reason or another, having started to
+go off in the little car, the young lady apparently decided on second
+thoughts to continue her journey by train. She left the little car at
+Lowick Station, with instructions that it be returned 'ere. I found
+that young Jakes, the station-master's son, outside with it a moment
+ago. Tooting the 'orn, he was, the young rascal, and saying he wanted
+half a crown. Using my own discretion, I gave him sixpence. You may
+reimburse me at your leisure and when convenient. Shall I take the
+little car and put it in the garridge, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Chimp gave eager assent to this proposition, as he would have done
+to any proposition which appeared to carry with it the prospect of
+removing this man from his presence.</p>
+
+<p>"It's funny, the young lady leaving the little car at the station,
+sir," mused Mr. Flannery in a voice that shook the chandelier. "I
+suppose she happened to reach there at a moment when a train was
+signalled and decided that she preferred not to overtax her limited
+strength by driving to London. I fancy she must have had London as her
+objective."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp fancied so, too. A picture rose before his eyes of Dolly and
+Soapy revelling together in the metropolis, with the loot of Rudge Hall
+bestowed in some safe place where he would never, never be able to get
+at it. The picture was so vivid that he uttered a groan.</p>
+
+<p>"Where does it catch you, sir?" asked Mr. Flannery solicitously.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"The pain, sir. The agony. You appear to be suffering. If you take
+my advice, you'll get off to bed and put an 'ot-water bottle on your
+stummick. Lay it right across the abdomen, sir. It may dror the poison
+out. I had an old aunt...."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to hear about your aunt."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, sir. Just as you wish."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about her some other time."</p>
+
+<p>"Any time that suits you, sir," said Mr. Flannery agreeably. "Well,
+I'll be off and putting the little car in the garridge."</p>
+
+<p>He left the room, and Chimp, withdrawing his hands from his eyes,
+gave himself up to racking thought. A man recovering from knock-out
+drops must necessarily see things in a jaundiced light, but it is
+scarcely probable that, even had he been in robust health, Mr. Twist's
+meditations would have been much pleasanter. Condensed, they resolved
+themselves, like John's, into a passionate wish that he could meet
+Soapy Molloy again, if only for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>And he had hardly decided that such a meeting was the only thing which
+life now had to offer, when the door opened again and the maid appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Molloy to see you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp started from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Show him in," he said in a tense, husky voice.</p>
+
+<p>There was a shuffling noise without, and Soapy appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>The progress of Mr. Molloy across the threshold of Chimp Twist's study
+bore a striking resemblance to that of some spent runner breasting
+the tape at the conclusion of a more than usually gruelling Marathon
+race. His hair was disordered, his face streaked with dust and heat,
+and his legs acted so independently of his body that they gave him an
+odd appearance of moving in several directions at once. An unbiassed
+observer, seeing him, could not but have felt a pang of pity for this
+wreck of what had once, apparently, been a fine, upstanding man.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp was not an unbiassed observer. He did not pity his old business
+partner. Judging from a first glance, Soapy Molloy seemed to him to
+have been caught in some sort of machinery, and subsequently run over
+by several motor lorries, and Chimp was glad of it. He would have liked
+to seek out the man in charge of that machinery and the drivers of
+those lorries, and reward them handsomely.</p>
+
+<p>"So here you are!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy, navigating cautiously, backed and filled in the direction
+of the armchair. Reaching it after considerable difficulty, he
+gripped its sides and lowered himself with infinite weariness. A sharp
+exclamation escaped him as he touched the cushions. Then, sinking back,
+he closed his eyes and immediately went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp gazed down at him, seething with resentment that made his head
+ache worse than ever. That Soapy should have had the cold, callous
+crust to come to Healthward Ho at all after what had happened was
+sufficiently infuriating. That, having come, he should proceed without
+a word of explanation or apology to treat the study as a bedroom was
+more than Chimp could endure. Stooping down, he gripped his old friend
+by his luxuriant hair and waggled his head smartly from side to side
+several times. The treatment proved effective. Soapy sat up.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" he said, blinking.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Which...? Why...? Where am I?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you where you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Mr. Molloy, intelligence returning.</p>
+
+<p>He sank back among the cushions again. Now that the first agony of
+contact was over he was finding their softness delightful. In the
+matter of seats, a man who has ridden twenty miles on an elderly
+push-bicycle becomes an exacting critic.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee! I feel bad!" he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>It was a natural remark, perhaps, for a man in his condition to make,
+but it had the effect of adding several degrees Fahrenheit to his
+companion's already impressive warmth. For some moments Chimp Twist,
+wrestling with his emotion, could find no form of self-expression
+beyond a curious spluttering noise.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," proceeded Mr. Molloy, "I feel bad. All the way over here on
+a bicycle, Chimpie, that's where I've been. It's in the calf of the leg
+that it gets me principally. There and around the instep. And I wish I
+had a dollar for every bruise those darned pedals have made on me."</p>
+
+<p>"And what about me?" demanded Chimp, at last ceasing to splutter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, wistfully, "I certainly wish someone would
+come along and offer me even as much as fifty cents for every bruise
+I've gotten from the ankles upwards. They've come out on me like a rash
+or something."</p>
+
+<p>"If you had my headache...."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I've a headache, too," said Mr. Molloy. "It was the hot sun
+beating down on my neck that did it. There were times when I thought
+really I'd have to pass the thing up. Say, if you knew what I feel
+like...."</p>
+
+<p>"And how about what I feel like?" shrilled Mr. Twist, quivering with
+self-pity. "A nice thing that was that wife of yours did to me! A fine
+trick to play on a business partner! Slipping stuff into my highball
+that laid me out cold. Is that any way to behave? Is that a system?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy considered the point.</p>
+
+<p>"The madam is a mite impulsive," he admitted.</p>
+
+<p>"And leaving me laying there and putting a lily in my hand!"</p>
+
+<p>"That was her playfulness," explained Mr. Molloy. "Girls will have
+their bit of fun."</p>
+
+<p>"Fun! Say...."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy felt that it was time to point the moral.</p>
+
+<p>"It was your fault, Chimpie. You brought it on yourself by acting
+greedy and trying to get the earth. If you hadn't stood us up for that
+sixty-five—thirty-five of yours, all this would never have happened.
+Naturally no high-spirited girl like the madam wasn't going to stand
+for nothing like that. But listen while I tell you what I've come
+about. If you're willing to can all that stuff and have a fresh deal
+and a square one this time—one-third to me, one-third to you, and one-third to the madam—I'll put you hep to something that'll make you feel
+good. Yes, sir, you'll go singing about the house."</p>
+
+<p>"The only thing you could tell me that would make me feel good,"
+replied Chimp, churlishly, "would be that you'd tumbled off of that
+bicycle of yours and broken your damned neck."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy was pained.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that nice, Chimpie?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist wished to know if, in the circumstances and after what had
+occurred, Mr. Molloy expected him to kiss him. Mr. Molloy said No, but
+where was the sense of harsh words? Where did harsh words get anybody?
+When had harsh words ever paid any dividend?</p>
+
+<p>"If you had a headache like mine, Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy,
+reproachfully, "you'd know how it felt to sit and listen to an old
+friend giving you the razz."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp was obliged to struggle for a while with a sudden return of his
+spluttering.</p>
+
+<p>"A headache like yours? Where do you get that stuff? My headache's a
+darned sight worse than your headache."</p>
+
+<p>"It couldn't be, Chimpie."</p>
+
+<p>"If you want to know what a headache really is, you take some of those
+kayo drops you're so fond of."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, putting that on one side," said Mr. Molloy, wisely forbearing to
+argue, "let me tell you what I've come here about. Chimpie, that guy
+Carmody has double-crossed us. He was on to us from the start."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. I had it from his own lips in person. And do you know what
+he done? He took that stuff out of the closet and sent his chauffeur
+over to Worcester to put it in the Left Luggage place at the depôt
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Gee!" said Mr. Twist, impressed. "That was smooth. Then you haven't
+got it, do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I haven't got it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Twist had never expected to feel anything in the nature of elation
+that day or for many days to come, but at these words something like
+ecstasy came upon him. He uttered a delighted laugh, which, owing to
+sudden agony in the head, changed to a muffled howl.</p>
+
+<p>"So, after all your smartness," he said, removing his hands from his
+temples as the spasm passed, "you're no better off than what I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"We're both sitting pretty, Chimpie, if we get together and act quick."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that? Act how?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you. This chauffeur guy left the stuff and brought home the
+ticket...."</p>
+
+<p>"... and gave it to old man Carmody, I suppose? Well, where does that
+get us?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir! He didn't give it to old man Carmody. He gave it to that
+young Carroll fellow!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>The significance of the information was not lost upon Chimp. He stared
+at Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Carroll?" he said. "You mean the bird upstairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is he upstairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure he's upstairs. Locked in a room with bars on the window. You're
+certain he has the ticket?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know he has. So all we've got to do now is get it off him."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all."</p>
+
+<p>"And how," inquired Chimp, "do you propose to do it?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy made no immediate reply. The question was one which, in the
+intervals of dodging the pedals of his bicycle, he had been asking
+himself ever since he had left Rudge Hall. He had hoped that in the
+enthusiasm of the moment some spontaneous solution would leap from his
+old friend's lips, but it was plain that this was not to be.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought maybe you would think of a way, Chimpie," he was compelled
+to confess.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh? Me, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're smart," said Mr. Molloy, deferentially. "You've got a head.
+Whatever anyone's said about you, no one's ever denied that. You'll
+think of a way."</p>
+
+<p>"I will, will I? And while I'm doing it, you'll just sit back, I
+suppose, and have a nice rest? And all you're suggesting that I'm to
+get out of it...."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Chimpie!" quavered Mr. Molloy. He had feared this development.</p>
+
+<p>"... is a measly one-third. Say, let me tell you...."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Chimpie," urged Mr. Molloy, with unshed tears in his voice,
+"let's not start all that over again. We settled the terms. Gentlemen's
+agreement. It's all fixed."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it? Come down out of the clouds, you're scaring the birds. What I
+want now, if I'm going to do all the work and help you out of a tough
+spot, is seventy-thirty."</p>
+
+<p>"Seventy-thirty!' echoed Mr. Molloy, appalled.</p>
+
+<p>"And if you don't like it let's hear you suggest a way of getting that
+ticket off of that guy upstairs. Maybe you'd like to go up and have
+a talk with him? If he's feeling anything like the way I felt when I
+came to after those kayo drops of yours, he'll be glad to see you. What
+does it matter to you if he pulls your head off and drops it out of the
+window? You can only live once, so what the hell!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy gazed dismally before him. Never a very inventive man,
+his bicycle ride had left him even less capable of inspiration than
+usual. He had to admit himself totally lacking in anything resembling
+a constructive plan of campaign. He yearned for his dear wife's gentle
+presence. Dolly was the bright one of the family. In a crisis like this
+she would have been full of ideas, each one a crackerjack.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't keep him locked up in that room for ever," he said unhappily.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't have to—not if you agree to my seventy-thirty."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you thought of a way, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I've thought of a way."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy's depression became more marked than ever. He knew what this
+meant. The moment he gave up the riddle that miserable little Chimp
+would come out with some scheme which had been staring him in the face
+all along, if only he had had the intelligence to see it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said Chimp. "Think quick. And remember, thirty's better than
+nothing. And don't say, when I've told you, that it's just the idea
+you've had yourself from the start."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy urged his weary brain to one last spurt of activity, but
+without result. He was a specialist. He could sell shares in phantom
+oil wells better than anybody on either side of the Atlantic, but there
+he stopped. Outside his specialty he was almost a total loss.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Chimpie," he sighed, facing the inevitable.</p>
+
+<p>"Seventy-thirty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seventy-thirty. Though how I'm to break it to the madam, I don't know.
+She won't like it, Chimpie. It'll be a nasty blow for the madam."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope it chokes her," said Chimp, unchivalrously. "Her and her
+lilies! Well, then. Here's what we do. When Flannery takes the guy his
+coffee and eggs to-morrow, there'll be something in the pot besides
+coffee. There'll be some of those kayo drops of yours. And then all we
+have to do is just simply walk upstairs and dig the ticket out of his
+clothes and there we are."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy uttered an agonized cry. His presentiment had been correct.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd have thought of that myself ..." he wailed.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you would," replied Chimp, comfortably, "if you'd of had
+something that wasn't a hubbard squash or something where your head
+ought to be. Those just-as-good imitation heads never pay in the long
+run. What you ought to do is sell yours for what it'll fetch and get a
+new one. And next time," said Chimp, "make it a prettier one."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>The dawn of what promised to be an eventful day broke grayly over
+Healthward Ho. By seven o'clock, however, the sun had forced its way
+through the mists and at eight precisely one of its rays, stealing
+in at an upper window, fell upon Sergeant-Major Flannery, lovely in
+sleep. He grunted, opened his eyes, and, realizing that another morning
+had arrived with all its manifold tasks and responsibilities, heaved
+himself out of bed and after a few soldierly setting-up exercises began
+his simple toilet. This completed, he made his way to the kitchen,
+where a fragrant smell of bacon and coffee announced that breakfast
+awaited him.</p>
+
+<p>His companions in the feast, Rosa, the maid, and Mrs. Evans, the cook,
+greeted him with the respectful warmth due to a man of his position
+and gifts. However unpopular Mr. Flannery might be with the resident
+patients of Healthward Ho—and Admiral Sir James Rigby-Rudd, for one,
+had on several occasions expressed a wistful desire to skin him—he
+was always sure of a hearty welcome below stairs. Rosa worshipped his
+moustache, and Mrs. Evans found his conversation entertaining.</p>
+
+<p>To-day, however, though the moustache was present in all its pristine
+glory, the conversation was lacking. Usually it was his custom,
+before so much as spearing an egg, to set things going brightly with
+some entertaining remark on the state of the weather or possibly the
+absorbing description of a dream which he had had in the night, but
+this morning he sat silent—or as nearly silent as he could ever be
+when eating.</p>
+
+<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Flannery," said Mrs. Evans, piqued. The
+Sergeant-Major started. It came to him that he had been remiss.</p>
+
+<p>"I was thinking, ma'am," he said, poising a forkful of bacon, "of what
+I may call the sadness of life."</p>
+
+<p>"Life is sad," agreed Mrs. Evans.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Rosa, the maid, who, being a mere slip of a girl and only
+permitted to join in these symposia as a favour, should not have spoken
+at all.</p>
+
+<p>"That verlent case upstairs," proceeded Mr. Flannery, swallowing the
+bacon and forking up another load. "Now, there's something that makes
+your heart bleed, if I may use the expression at the breakfast table.
+That young fellow, no doubt, started out in life with everything
+pointing to a happy and prosperous career.</p>
+
+<p>"Good home, good education, everything. And just because he's allowed
+himself to fall into bad 'abits, there he is under lock and key, so to
+speak."</p>
+
+<p>"Can he get out?" asked Rosa. It was a subject which she and the cook
+discussed in alarmed whispers far into the night.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery raised his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he cannot get out. And, if he did, you wouldn't have nothing to
+fear, not with me around."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure it's a comfort feeling that you are around, Mr. Flannery,"
+said Mrs. Evans.</p>
+
+<p>"Almost the very words the young fellow's sister said to me when she
+left him here," rumbled Mr. Flannery complacently. "She said to me,
+'Sergeant-Major,' she said, 'it's such a relief to feel that there's
+someone like you 'ere, Sergeant-Major,' she said. 'I'm sure you're
+wonderful in any kind of an emergency, Sergeant-Major,' she said." He
+sighed. "It's thinking of 'er that brings home the sadness of it all to
+a man, if you understand me. What I mean, here's that beautiful young
+creature racked with anxiety, as the saying is, on account of this
+worthless brother of hers...."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa.</p>
+
+<p>An awful silence followed these words, the sort of silence that would
+fall upon a housekeeper's room if, supposing such a thing possible,
+some young under-footman were to contradict the butler. Sergeant-Major
+Flannery's eyes bulged, and he drank coffee in a marked manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you talk nonsense, my girl," he said shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"A girl can speak, can't she? A girl can make a remark, can't she?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly she can speak," replied Mr. Flannery. "Undoubtedly she can
+make a remark. But," he added with quiet severity, "let it be sense.
+That young lady was the most beautiful young lady I've ever seen. She
+had eyes"—he paused for a telling simile—"eyes," he resumed devoutly,
+"like twin stars." He turned to Mrs. Evans, "When you've got that
+case's breakfast ready, ma'am, perhaps you would instruct someone to
+bring it out to me in the garden and I'll take it up to him. I shall be
+smoking my pipe in the shrubbery."</p>
+
+<p>"You're not going already, Mr. Flannery?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"But you haven't finished your breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>"I have quite finished my breakfast, ma'am," said Sergeant-Major
+Flannery. "I would not wish to eat any more."</p>
+
+<p>He withdrew. To the pleading in the eyes of Rosa he pointedly paid
+no attention. He was not aware of the destructive effect which the
+moustache nestling between his thumb and forefinger had wrought on the
+girl's heart, but he considered rightly that if you didn't keep women
+in their place occasionally, where were you? Rosa was a nice little
+thing, but nice little things must not be allowed to speak lightly of
+goddesses.</p>
+
+<p>In the kitchen which he had left conversation had now resolved itself
+into a monologue by Mrs. Evans, on the Modern Girl. It need not be
+reported in detail, for Mrs. Evans on the Modern Girl was very like all
+the other members of the older generation who from time to time have
+given their views on the subject in the pulpit and the press. Briefly,
+Mrs. Evans did not know what girls were coming to nowadays. They spoke
+irreverently in the presence of their elders. They lacked respect. They
+thrust themselves forward. They annoyed good men to the extent of only
+half finishing their breakfasts. What Mrs. Evans's mother would have
+said if Mrs. Evans in her girlhood had behaved as Rosa had just behaved
+was a problem which Mrs. Evans frankly admitted herself unable to solve.</p>
+
+<p>And at the end of it all the only remark which Rosa vouchsafed was a
+repetition of the one which had caused Sergeant-Major Flannery to leave
+the table short one egg and a slice of bacon of his normal allowance.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't think she was so beautiful," said Rosa, tossing a bobbed
+auburn head.</p>
+
+<p>Whether this deplorable attitude would have reduced Mrs. Evans to
+a despairing silence or caused her to repeat her observations with
+renewed energy will never be known, for at this moment one of the bells
+above the dresser jangled noisily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Him," said Mrs. Evans. "Go and see what He wants." She usually
+referred to the proprietor of Healthward Ho by means of a pronoun with
+a capital letter, disapproving, though she recognized its aptness, of
+her assistant's preference for the soubriquet of Old Monkey Brand. "If
+it's His breakfast, tell Him it'll be ready in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>Rosa departed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not His breakfast," she announced, returning. "It's the Case
+Upstairs's breakfast. Old Monkey Brand wants to have a look at it
+before it's took him."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't call Him Old Monkey Brand."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's what he looks like, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," replied Mrs. Evans, and resumed her speculations as to
+what her mother would have said.</p>
+
+<p>"He's to have some bacon and eggs and toast and a potter coffee," said
+Rosa, showing rather a lack of interest in Mrs. Evans's mother. "And
+old Lord Twist wants to have a look at it before it's took him. It all
+depends what you call beautiful," said Rosa. "If you're going to call
+anyone beautiful that's got touched-up hair and eyes like one of those
+vamps in the pictures, well, all I can say is..."</p>
+
+<p>"That's enough," said Mrs. Evans.</p>
+
+<p>Silence reigned in the kitchen, broken only by the sizzling of bacon
+and the sniffs of a modern girl who did not see eye to eye with her
+elders on the subject of feminine beauty.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are," said Mrs. Evans at length. "Get me one of them trays
+and the pepper and salt and mustard and be careful you don't drop it."</p>
+
+<p>"Drop it? Why should I drop it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't."</p>
+
+<p>"There was a woman in <i>Hearts and Satins</i> that had eyes just like
+hers," said Rosa, balancing the tray and speaking with the cold scorn
+which good women feel for their erring sisters. "And what she didn't
+do! Apart from stealing all them important papers relating to the
+invention...."</p>
+
+<p>"You're spilling that coffee."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't," said Mrs. Evans.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Out in the garden, hidden from the gaze of any who might espy him and
+set him to work, Sergeant-Major Flannery lolled in the shrubbery,
+savouring that best smoke of the day, the after-breakfast pipe. He was
+still ruffled, for Dolly had made a deep impression on him and any
+statement to the effect that she was not a thing of loveliness ranked
+to his thinking under the head of blasphemy.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, he mused, there was this to be said for the girl Rosa,
+this rather important point to be put forward in extenuation of her
+loose speech—she worshipped the ground he walked on and had obviously
+spoken as she did under the sudden smart of an uncontrollable
+jealousy. Contemplated in this light her remarks became almost
+excusable, and, growing benevolent under the influence of tobacco, Mr.
+Flannery began to feel his resentment changing gradually into something
+approaching tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa, when you came to look at it squarely, was, he reflected, rather
+to be pitied than censured. Young girls, of course, needed suppressing
+at times, and had to be ticked off for their own good when they got
+above themselves, but there was no doubt that the situation must have
+been trying to one in her frame of mind. To hear the man she worshipped
+speaking with unrestrained praise of the looks of another of her sex
+was enough to upset any girl. Properly looked at, in short, Rosa's
+outburst had been a compliment, and Sergeant-Major Flannery, now
+definitely mollified, decided to forgive her.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment he heard footsteps on the gravel path that skirted the
+shrubbery, and became alert and vigilant. He was not supposed to smoke
+in the grounds at Healthward Ho because of the maddening effect the
+spectacle could not fail to have upon the patients if they saw him. He
+knocked out his pipe and peered cautiously through the branches. Then
+he perceived that he need have had no alarm. It was only Rosa. She
+was standing with her back to him holding a laden tray. He remembered
+now that he had left instructions that the Case's breakfast should be
+brought out to him, preliminary to being carried up the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Flanner-ee!" called Rosa, and scanned the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>It was not often that Sergeant-Major Flannery permitted himself any
+action that might be called arch or roguish, but his meditations in the
+shrubbery, added to the mellowing influence of tobacco, had left him in
+an unusually light-hearted mood. The sun was shining, the little birds
+were singing, and Mr. Flannery felt young and gay. Putting his pipe in
+his pocket, accordingly, he crept through the shrubbery until he was
+immediately behind the girl and then in a tender whisper uttered the
+single word:</p>
+
+<p>"Boo!"</p>
+
+<p>All great men have their limitations. We recognize the inevitability of
+this and do not hold it against them. One states, therefore, not in any
+spirit of reproach but simply as a fact of historical interest, that
+tender whispering was one of the things that Sergeant-Major Flannery
+did not do well. Between intention and performance there was, when Mr.
+Flannery set out to whisper tenderly, a great gulf fixed. The actual
+sound he now uttered was not unlike that which might proceed from the
+fog horn of an Atlantic liner or a toastmaster having a fit in a
+boiler shop, and, bursting forth as it did within a few inches of her
+ear without any warning whatsoever, it had on Rosa an effect identical
+with that produced on Colonel Wyvern at an earlier point in this
+chronicle by John Carroll's sudden bellow outside the shop of Chas.
+Bywater, Chemist. From trivial causes great events may spring. Rosa
+sprang about three feet. A sharp squeal escaped her and she dropped the
+tray. After which, she stood with a hand on her heart, panting.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant-Major Flannery recognized at once that he had done the wrong
+thing. His generous spirit had led him astray. If he had wished to
+inform Rosa that all was forgotten and forgiven he should have stepped
+out of the shrubbery and said so in a few simple words, face to face.
+By acting, as it were, obliquely and allowing himself to be for the
+moment a disembodied voice, he had made a mess of things. Among the
+things he had made a mess of were a pot of coffee, a pitcher of milk,
+a bowl of sugar, a dish of butter, vessels containing salt, mustard,
+and pepper, a rack of toast, and a plateful of eggs and bacon. All
+these objects now littered the turf before him; and, emerging from the
+shrubbery, he surveyed them ruefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo-er!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Oddly enough, relief rather than annoyance seemed to be the emotion
+dominating his companion. If ever there was an occasion when a girl
+might excusably have said some of the things girls are so good at
+saying nowadays, this was surely it. But Rosa merely panted at the
+Sergeant-Major thankfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you was the Case Upstairs!" she gasped. "When I heard that
+ghastly sound right in my ear I thought it was him got out."</p>
+
+<p>"You're all right, my girl," said Mr. Flannery. "I'm 'ere."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Flannery!"</p>
+
+<p>"There, there!" said the Sergeant-Major.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the feeling that he was behaving a little prematurely, he
+slipped a massive arm around the girl's waist. He also kissed her. He
+had not intended to commit himself quite so definitely as this, but it
+seemed now the only thing to do.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa became calmer.</p>
+
+<p>"I dropped the tray," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Flannery, who was quick at noticing things.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd better go and tell him."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell Mr. Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'd better, hadn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery demurred. To tell Mr. Twist involved explanations, and
+explanations, if they were to be convincing, must necessarily reveal
+him, Mr. Flannery, in a light none too dignified. It might be that,
+having learned the facts, Mr. Twist would decide to dispense with
+the services of an assistant who, even from the best motives, hid in
+shrubberies and said "Boo!" to maidservants.</p>
+
+<p>"You listen to me, my girl," he advised. "Mr. Twist is a busy gentleman
+that has many responsibilities and much to occupy him. He don't want
+to be bothered with no stories of dropped trays. All you just do is
+run back to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Evans to cook the Case some more
+breakfast. The coffee pot's broke, but the cup ain't broke and the
+plate ain't broke and the mustardan-pepperan-salt thing ain't broke.
+I'll pick 'em up and you take 'em back on the tray and don't say
+nothing to nobody. While you're gone I'll be burying what's left of
+them eggs."</p>
+
+<p>"But Mr. Twist put something special in the coffee."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"When I took him in the tray just now, he said, 'Is that the Case
+Upstairs' breakfast?' and I said Yes, it was, and Old Monkey Brand put
+something that looked like a aspirin tablet or something in the coffee
+pot. I thought it might be some medicine he had to have to make him
+quiet and keep him from breaking out and murdering all of us."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery smiled indulgently.</p>
+
+<p>"That Case Upstairs don't need nothing of that sort, not when I'm
+around," he said. "Doctor Twist's like all these civilians. He gets
+unduly nervous. He don't understand that there's no need or necessity
+or occasion whatsoever for these what I may call sedatives when I'm on
+the premises to lend a 'and in case of any verlence. Besides, it don't
+do anybody no good always to be taking these drugs and what not. The
+Case 'ad 'is sleeping draught yesterday, and you never know it might
+not undermine his 'ealth to go taking another this morning. So if Mr.
+Twist asks you has the Case had his coffee, you just say 'Yes, sir,' in
+a smart and respectful manner, and I'll do the same. And then nobody
+needn't be any the wiser."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery's opportunity of doing the same occurred not more than
+a quarter of an hour later. Returning from the task of climbing the
+ladder and handing in the revised breakfast at John's window, he
+encountered his employer in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Flannery," said Mr. Twist.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"The—er—the violent case. Has he had breakfast?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was eatin' it quite 'earty when I left him not five minutes ago,
+sir."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he drink his coffee?" he asked carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied Sergeant-Major Flannery in a smart and respectful
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I see. Thank you."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank <i>you</i>, sir," said Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>In describing John as eating his breakfast quite 'earty, Sergeant-Major
+Flannery, though not as a rule an artist in words, had for once
+undoubtedly achieved the <i>mot juste</i>. Hearty was the exact adjective to
+describe that ill-used young man's methods of approach to the eggs and
+bacon and coffee which his gaoler had handed in between the bars of the
+window. Neither his now rooted dislike of Mr. Flannery nor any sense of
+the indignity of accepting food like some rare specimen in a zoo could
+compete in John with an appetite which had been growing silently within
+him through the night watches. His headache had gone, leaving in its
+place a hunger which wolves might have envied. Placing himself outside
+an egg almost before the Sergeant-Major had time to say "Oo-er!" he
+finished the other egg, the bacon, the toast, the butter, the milk, and
+the coffee, and, having lifted the plate to see if any crumbs had got
+concealed beneath it and finding none, was compelled reluctantly to
+regard the meal as concluded.</p>
+
+<p>He now felt considerably better. Food and drink had stayed in him that
+animal ravenousness which makes food and drink the only possible object
+of a man's thoughts; and he was able to turn his mind to other matters.
+Having found and swallowed a lump of sugar which had got itself
+overlooked under a fold of the napkin, he returned to the bed and
+lay down. A man who wishes to think can generally do so better in a
+horizontal position. So John lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling,
+pondering.</p>
+
+<p>He certainly had sufficient material for thought to keep him occupied
+almost indefinitely. The more he meditated upon his present situation
+the less was he able to understand it. That the villain Twist, wishing
+to get away with the spoils of Rudge Hall, should have imprisoned
+him in this room in order to gain time for flight would have been
+intelligible. John would never have been able to bring himself to
+approve of such an action, but he had to admit its merits as a piece of
+strategy.</p>
+
+<p>But Twist had not flown. According to Sergeant-Major Flannery, he was
+still on the premises, and so, apparently, was his accomplice, the
+black-hearted Molloy. But why? What did they think they were doing? How
+long did they suppose they would be able to keep a respectable citizen
+cooped up like this, even though his only medium of communication with
+the outer world were a more than usually fat-headed sergeant-major? The
+thing baffled John completely.</p>
+
+<p>He next turned his mind to thoughts of Pat, and experienced a feverish
+concern. Here was something to get worried about. What, he asked
+himself, must Pat be thinking? He had promised to call for her in the
+Widgeon Seven at one o'clock yesterday. She would assume that he had
+forgotten. She would suppose....</p>
+
+<p>He would have gone on torturing himself with these reflections for
+a considerable time, but at this moment he suddenly heard a sharp,
+clicking sound. It resembled the noise a key makes when turning in
+a lock, and was probably the only sound on earth which at that
+particular point in his meditations would have had the power to arrest
+his attention.</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his head and looked around. Yes, the door was opening. And it
+was opening, what was more, in just the nasty, slow, furtive, sneaking
+way in which a door would open if somebody like the leper Twist had
+got hold of the handle.</p>
+
+<p>In this matter of the hell-hound Twist's mental processes John was
+now thoroughly fogged. The man appeared to be something very closely
+resembling an imbecile. When flight was the one thing that could do
+him a bit of good, he did not fly, and now, having with drugs and
+imprisonment and the small talk of sergeant-majors reduced a muscular
+young man to a condition of homicidal enthusiasm, he was apparently
+paying that young man a social call.</p>
+
+<p>However, the mental condition of this monkey-faced, waxed-moustached
+bounder and criminal was beside the point. What was important was to
+turn his weak-mindedness to profit. The moment was obviously one for
+cunning and craftiness, and John accordingly dropped his head on the
+pillow, cunningly closed his eyes, and craftily began to breathe like
+one deep in sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The ruse proved effective. After a moment of complete silence, a board
+creaked. Then another board creaked. And then he heard the door close
+gently. Finally, from the neighbourhood of the door, there came to him
+a sound of whispering. And across the years there floated into John's
+mind a dim memory. This whispering ... it reminded him of something.</p>
+
+<p>Then he got it. Ages ago ... when he was a child ... Christmas
+Eve ... His father and mother lurking in the doorway to make sure that
+he was asleep before creeping to the bed and putting the presents in
+his stocking.</p>
+
+<p>The recollection encouraged John. There is nothing like having done a
+thing before and knowing the technique. He never had been asleep on
+those bygone Christmas Eves, but the gift-bearers had never suspected
+it, and he resolved that, if any of the old skill and artistry still
+lingered with him, the Messrs. Twist and Molloy should not suspect it
+now. He deepened the note of his breathing, introducing into it a motif
+almost asthmatic.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right," said the voice of Mr. Twist.</p>
+
+<p>"Okay?" said the voice of Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Okay," said the voice of Mr. Twist.</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon, walking confidently and without any further effort at
+stealth, the two approached the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess he drank the whole potful," said Mr. Twist.</p>
+
+<p>Once more John found himself puzzling over the way this man's mind
+worked. By pot he presumably meant the coffee pot standing on the tray
+and why the contents of this should appear to him in the light of a
+soporific was more than John could understand.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, listen," said Mr. Twist. "You go and hang around outside the
+door, Soapy."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" inquired Mr. Molloy, and it seemed to John that he spoke coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"So's to see nobody comes along, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah?" said Mr. Molloy, and his voice was now unmistakably dry. "And
+you'll come out in a minute and tell me you're all broke up about it
+but he hadn't got the ticket on him after all."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't think...?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do think."</p>
+
+<p>"If you can't trust me that far...."</p>
+
+<p>"Chimpie," said Mr. Molloy, "I wouldn't trust you as far as a snail
+could make in three jumps. I wouldn't believe you not even if I knew
+you were speaking the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well if that's how you feel..." said Mr. Twist, injured. Mr.
+Molloy, still speaking in that unfriendly voice, replied that that was
+precisely how he did feel. And there was silence for a space.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well," said Mr. Twist at length.</p>
+
+<p>John's perplexity increased. He could make nothing of that "ticket."
+The only ticket he had in his possession was the one Bolt, the
+chauffeur, had given him to give to his uncle for some bag or other
+which he had left in the cloak room at Shrub Hill Station. Why should
+these men...!</p>
+
+<p>He became aware of fingers groping toward the inner pocket of his coat.
+And as they touched him he decided that the moment had come to act.
+Bracing the muscles of his back he sprang from the bed, and with an
+acrobatic leap hurled himself toward the door and stood leaning against
+it.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">IV</p>
+
+<p>In the pause which followed this brisk move it soon became evident to
+John, rubbing his shoulders against the oak panels and glowering upon
+the two treasure seekers, that if the scene was to be brightened by
+anything in the nature of a dialogue the ball of conversation would
+have to be set rolling by himself. Not for some little time, it was
+clear, would his companions be in a condition for speech. Chimp Twist
+was looking like a monkey that has bitten into a bad nut, and Soapy
+Molloy, like an American Senator who has received an anonymous telegram
+saying "All is discovered. Fly at once." This sudden activity on the
+part of one whom they had regarded as under the influence of some of
+the best knock-out drops that ever came out of Chicago had had upon
+them an effect similar to that which would be experienced by a group of
+surgeons in an operating theatre if the gentleman on the slab were to
+rise abruptly and begin to dance the Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>So it was John who was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then!" said John. "How about it?"</p>
+
+<p>The question was a purely rhetorical one, and received no reply. Mr.
+Molloy uttered an odd, strangled sound like a far-away cat with a
+fishbone in its throat, and Chimp's waxed moustache seemed to droop
+at the ends. It occurred to both of them that they had never realized
+before what a remarkably muscular, well-developed young man John was.
+It was also borne in upon them that there are exceptions to the rule
+which states that big men are always good-humoured. John, they could
+not help noticing, looked like a murderer who had been doing physical
+jerks for years.</p>
+
+<p>"I've a good mind to break both your necks," said John.</p>
+
+<p>At these unpleasant words, Mr. Molloy came to life sufficiently to be
+able to draw back a step, thus leaving his partner nearer than himself
+to the danger zone. It was a move strictly in accordance with business
+ethics. For if, Mr. Molloy was arguing, Chimp claimed seventy per cent.
+of the profits of their little venture, it was only fair that he should
+assume an equivalent proportion of its liabilities. At the moment, the
+thing looked like turning out all liabilities, and these Mr. Molloy was
+only too glad to split on a seventy-thirty basis. So he moved behind
+Chimp, and round the bulwark of his body, which he could have wished
+had been more substantial, peered anxiously at John.</p>
+
+<p>John, having sketched out his ideal policy, was now forced to descend
+to the practical. Agreeable as it would have been to take these two men
+and bump their heads together, he realized that such a course would be
+a deviation from the main issue. The important thing was to ascertain
+what they had done with the loot, and to this inquiry he now directed
+his remarks.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that stuff?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff?" said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what I mean. Those things you stole from the Hall."</p>
+
+<p>Chimp, who had just discovered that he was standing between Mr. Molloy
+and John, swiftly skipped back a pace. This caused Mr. Molloy to skip
+back, too. John regarded this liveliness with a smouldering disfavour.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand still!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Chimp stood still. Mr. Molloy, who had succeeded in getting behind him
+again, stood stiller.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said John. "Where are the things?"</p>
+
+<p>Even after the most complete rout on a stricken battle field a beaten
+general probably hesitates for an instant before surrendering his
+sword. And so now, obvious though it was that there was no other course
+before them but confession, Chimp and Soapy remained silent for a
+space. Then Chimp, who was the first to catch John's eye, spoke hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"They're in Worcester."</p>
+
+<p>"Whereabouts in Worcester?"</p>
+
+<p>"At the depôt."</p>
+
+<p>"What depôt?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one, isn't there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean the station?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. The station."</p>
+
+<p>"They're in the Left Luggage place at the station in Worcester," said
+Mr. Molloy. He spoke almost cheerfully, for it had suddenly come to
+him that matters were not so bad as he had supposed them to be, and
+that there was still an avenue unclosed which might lead to a peaceful
+settlement. "And you've got the ticket in your pocket."</p>
+
+<p>John stared.</p>
+
+<p>"That ticket is for a bag my uncle sent the chauffeur to leave at Shrub
+Hill."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. And the stuff's inside it."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what I mean," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Atta-boy!" said Chimp faintly. He, too, had now become aware of the
+silver lining. He sank upon the bed, and so profound was his relief
+that the ends of his moustache seemed to spring to life again and cease
+their drooping.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Mr. Molloy, "I'll tell you what I mean. It's about
+time you got hep to the fact that that old uncle of yours is one of
+the smoothest birds this side of God's surging Atlantic Ocean. He
+was sitting in with us all along, that's what he was doing. He said
+those heirlooms had never done him any good and it was about time they
+brought him some money. It was all fixed that Chimpie here should swipe
+them and then I was to give the old man a cheque and he was to clean up
+on the insurance, besides. That was when he thought I was a millionaire
+that ran a museum over in America and was in the market for antiques.
+But he got on to me, and then he started in to double-cross us. He took
+the stuff out of where we'd put it and slipped it over to the depôt at
+Worcester, meaning to collect it when he got good and ready. But the
+chauffeur gave the ticket to you, and you came over here, and Chimpie
+doped you and locked you up."</p>
+
+<p>"And you can't do a thing," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," agreed Mr. Molloy, "not a thing, not unless you want to
+bring that uncle of yours into it and have him cracking rocks in the
+same prison where they put us."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see that old bird cracking rocks, at that," said Chimp
+pensively.</p>
+
+<p>"So would I like to see him cracking rocks," assented Mr. Molloy
+cordially. "I can't think of anything I'd like better than to see him
+cracking rocks. But not at the expense of me cracking rocks, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Or me," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Or you," said Mr. Molloy, after a slight pause. "So there's the
+position, Mr. Carroll. You can go ahead and have us pinched, if you
+like, but just bear in mind that if you do there's going to be one of
+those scandals in high life you read about. Yes, sir, real front-page
+stuff."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet there is," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, you bet there is," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"You're dern tooting there is," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, you're dern tooting there is," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>And on this note of perfect harmony the partners rested their case and
+paused, looking at John expectantly.</p>
+
+<p>John's reaction to the disclosure was not agreeable. It is never
+pleasant for a spirited young man to find himself baffled, nor is it
+cheering for a member of an ancient family to discover that the head of
+that family has been working in association with criminals and behaving
+in a manner calculated to lead to rock-cracking.</p>
+
+<p>Not for an instant did it occur to him to doubt the story. Although the
+Messrs. Twist and Molloy were men whose statements the prudent would
+be inclined to accept as a rule with reserve, on this occasion it was
+evident that they were speaking nothing but the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, listen," cried Chimp, alarmed. He had been watching John's face
+and did not like the look of it. "No rough stuff!"</p>
+
+<p>John had been contemplating none. Chimp and his companion had ceased
+to matter, and the fury which was making his face rather an unpleasant
+spectacle for two peace-loving men shut up in a small room with him
+was directed exclusively against his uncle Lester. Rudge Hall and its
+treasures were sacred to John; and the thought that Mr. Carmody, whose
+trust they were, had framed this scheme for the house's despoilment was
+almost more than he could bear.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't us you ought to be sore at," urged Mr. Molloy. "It's that old
+uncle of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure it is," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure it is," echoed Mr. Molloy. Not for a long time had he and his old
+friend found themselves so completely in agreement. "He's the guy you
+want to soak it to."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll say he is," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll say he is," said Mr. Molloy. "Say listen, let me tell you
+something. Something that'll make you feel good. I happen to know that
+old man Carmody is throwing the wool over those insurance people's eyes
+by offering a reward for the recovery of that stuff. A thousand pounds.
+He told me so himself. If you want to get him good and sore, all you've
+got to do is claim it. He won't dare hold out on you."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly he won't," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly he won't," said Mr. Molloy. "And will that make him good and
+sore!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will it!" said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Will it!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Wake me up in the night and ask me," said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>"Me, too," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>Their generous enthusiasm seemed to have had its effect. The ferocity
+faded from John's demeanour. Something resembling a smile flitted
+across his face, as if some pleasing thought was entertaining him. Mr.
+Molloy relaxed his tension and breathed again. Chimp, in his relief,
+found himself raising a hand to his moustache.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said John slowly.</p>
+
+<p>He passed his fingers thoughtfully over his unshaven chin.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a car in your garage?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure there's a car in my garage," said Chimp. "Your car."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"But that girl went off in it."</p>
+
+<p>"She sent it back."</p>
+
+<p>So overwhelming was the joy of these tidings that John found himself
+regarding Chimp almost with liking. His car was safe after all. His
+Arab Steed! His Widgeon Seven!</p>
+
+<p>Any further conversation after this stupendous announcement would,
+he felt, be an anti-climax. Without a word he darted to the door and
+passed through, leaving the two partners staring after him blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you know about that?" said Chimp.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy's comment on the situation remained unspoken, for even as
+his lips parted for the utterance of what would no doubt have been a
+telling and significant speech, there came from the corridor outside a
+single, thunderous "Oo-er!" followed immediately by a sharp, smacking
+sound, and then a noise that resembled the delivery of a ton of coals.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Molloy stared at Chimp. Chimp stared at Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"Gosh!" said Chimp, awed.</p>
+
+<p>"Gosh!" said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+<p>"That was Flannery!" said Chimp, unnecessarily.</p>
+
+<p>"'Was,'" said Mr. Molloy, "is right."</p>
+
+<p>It was not immediately that either found himself disposed to leave
+the room and institute inquiries—or more probably, judging from that
+titanic crash, a post-mortem. When eventually they brought themselves
+to the deed and crept palely to the head of the stairs they were
+enabled to see, resting on the floor below, something which from
+its groans appeared at any rate for the moment to be alive. Then
+this object unscrambled itself and, rising, revealed the features of
+Sergeant-Major Flannery.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery seemed upset about something.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it you, sir?" he inquired in tones of deep reproach. "Was it you,
+Mr. Twist, that unlocked that Case's door?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to have a talk with him," said Chimp, descending the stairs
+and gazing remorsefully at his assistant.</p>
+
+<p>"I have the honour to inform you," said Mr. Flannery formally, "that
+the Case has legged it."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>"In reply to your question, sir," said Mr. Flannery in the same formal
+voice, "I <i>am</i> hurt."</p>
+
+<p>It would have been plain to the most casual observer that the man was
+speaking no more than the truth. How in the short time at his disposal
+John had managed to do it was a mystery which baffled both Chimp and
+his partner. An egg-shaped bump stood out on the Sergeant-Major's
+forehead like a rocky promontory, and already he was exhibiting one of
+the world's most impressive black eyes. The thought that there, but
+for the grace of God, went Alexander Twist filled the proprietor of
+Healthward Ho with so deep a feeling of thankfulness that he had to
+clutch at the banister to support himself.</p>
+
+<p>A similar emotion was plainly animating Mr. Molloy. To have been
+shut up in a room with a man capable of execution like that—a man,
+moreover, nurturing a solid and justifiable grudge against him, and to
+have escaped uninjured was something that seemed to him to call for
+celebration. He edged off in the direction of the study. He wanted a
+drink, and he wanted it quick.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Flannery, pressing a hand to his wounded eye, continued with the
+other to hold Chimp rooted to the spot. It was an eye that had much of
+the quality of the Ancient Mariner's, and Chimp did not attempt to move.</p>
+
+<p>"If you had listened to my advice, sir," said Mr. Flannery coldly,
+"this would never have happened. Did I or did I not say to you, Mr.
+Twist, did I or did I not repeatedly say that it was imperative and
+essential that that Case be kept securely under lock and key? And then
+you go asking for it, sir, begging for it, pleading for it, by opening
+the door and giving him the opportunity to roam the 'ouse at his sweet
+will and leg it when so disposed. I 'ad just reached the 'ead of the
+stairs when I see him. I said Oo-er! I said, and advanced smartly at
+the double to do my duty, that being what I am paid for, an' what I
+draw my salary for doing, and the next thing I know I'd copped it
+square in the eye and him and me was rolling down the stairs together.
+I bumped my 'ead against the woodwork at the bottom or it may have
+been that chest there, and for a moment all went black and I knew no
+more." Mr. Flannery paused. "All went black and I knew no more," he
+repeated, liking the phrase. "And when I came to, as the expression is,
+the Case had gone. Where he is now, Mr. Twist, 'oo can say? Murdering
+the patients as like as not or...."</p>
+
+<p>He broke off. Outside on the drive, diminishing in the distance,
+sounded the engine of a car.</p>
+
+<p>"That's him," said Mr. Flannery. "He's gorn!" He brooded for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Gorn!" he resumed. "Gorn to range the countryside and maybe 'ave 'alf
+a dozen assassinations on his conscience before the day's out. And
+you'll be responsible, Mr. Twist. On that Last Awful Day, Mr. Twist,
+when you and I and all of us come up before the Judgment Seat, do
+you know what'll 'appen? I'll tell you what'll 'appen. The Lord God
+Almighty will say, angry-like, ''Oo's responsible for all these corpses
+I see laying around 'ere?' and 'E'll look at you sort of sharp, and
+you'll have to rise up and say, 'It was me! I'm responsible for them
+corpses.' If I'd of done as Sergeant-Major Flannery repeatedly told me
+and kep' that Case under lock and key, as the saying is, there wouldn't
+have been none of these poor murdered blokes.' That's what you'll 'ave
+to rise and say, Mr. Twist. I will now leave you, sir, as I wish to go
+into the kitchen and get that young Rosa to put something on this nasty
+bruise and eye of mine. If you 'ave any further instructions for me,
+Mr. Twist, I'll be glad to attend to them. If not, I'll go up to my
+room and have a bit of a lay-down. Good morning, sir."</p>
+
+<p>The Sergeant-Major had said his say. He withdrew in good order along
+previously prepared lines of retreat. And Chimp, suddenly seized with
+the same idea which had taken Soapy to the study, moved slowly off down
+the passage.</p>
+
+<p>In the study he found Mr. Molloy, somewhat refreshed, seated at the
+telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Playing the flute," replied Mr. Molloy shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you 'phoning to?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dolly, if you want to know. I've got to tell her about all this
+business going bloo-ey, haven't I? I've got to break it to her that
+after all her trouble and pains she isn't going to get a cent out of
+the thing, haven't I?"</p>
+
+<p>Chimp regarded his partner with disfavour. He wished he had never seen
+Mr. Molloy. He wished he might never see him again. He wished he were
+not seeing him now.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you go up to London and tell her?" he demanded sourly.
+"There's a train in twenty minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather do it on the 'phone," said Mr. Molloy.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>The sun, whose rays had roused Sergeant-Major Flannery from his
+slumbers at Healthward Ho that morning, had not found it necessary to
+perform the same office for Lester Carmody at Rudge Hall. In spite of
+the fact that he had not succeeded in getting to sleep till well on in
+the small hours, Mr. Carmody woke early. There is no alarm clock so
+effective as a disturbed mind.</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Carmody's mind was notably disturbed. On the previous night he
+had received shock after shock, each more staggering than the last.
+First, Bolt, the chauffeur, had revealed the fact that he had given the
+fateful ticket to John. Then Sturgis, after letting fall in the course
+of his babblings the information that Mr. Molloy knew that John had the
+ticket, had said that that young man, when last seen, had been going
+off in the company of Dolly Molloy. And finally, John had not only
+failed to appear at dinner but was not to be discovered anywhere on the
+premises at as late an hour as midnight.</p>
+
+<p>In these circumstances, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Mr.
+Carmody's repose was not tranquil. To one who, like himself, had had
+the advantage of hearing the views of the Molloy family on the virtues
+of knock-out drops there could be no doubt as to what had happened.
+John, suspecting nothing, must have allowed himself to be lured into
+the trap, and by this time the heirlooms of Rudge Hall were probably in
+London.</p>
+
+<p>Having breakfasted, contrary to the habit of years, quickly and
+sketchily, Mr. Carmody, who had haunted the stable yard till midnight,
+went there again in the faint hope of finding that his nephew had
+returned. But except for Emily, who barked at him, John's room was
+empty. Mr. Carmody wandered out into the grounds, and for some half
+hour paced the gravel paths in growing desolation of soul. Then, his
+tortured nerves becoming more and more afflicted by the behaviour of
+one of the under-gardeners who, full of the feudal spirit, insisted on
+touching his hat like a clockwork toy every time his employer passed,
+he sought refuge in his study.</p>
+
+<p>It was there, about one hour later, that John found him.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody's first emotion on beholding his long-lost nephew was one
+of ecstatic relief.</p>
+
+<p>"John!" he cried, bounding from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>Then, chilling his enthusiasm, came the thought that there might be no
+occasion for joy in this return. Probably, he reflected, John, after
+being drugged and robbed of the ticket, had simply come home in the
+ordinary course of events. After all, there would have been no reason
+for those scoundrels to detain him. Once they had got the ticket, John
+would have ceased to count.</p>
+
+<p>"Where have you been?" he asked in a flatter voice.</p>
+
+<p>A rather peculiar smile came and went on John's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I spent the night at Healthward Ho," he said. "Were you worried about
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Extremely worried."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry. Doctor Twist is a hospitable chap. He wouldn't let me go."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody, on the point of speaking, checked himself. His position,
+he suddenly saw, was a delicate one. Unless he were prepared to lay
+claim to the possession of special knowledge, which he certainly was
+not, anything in the nature of agitation on his part must inevitably
+seem peculiar. To those without special knowledge Mr. Twist, Mr.
+Molloy, and Dolly were ordinary, respectable persons and there was no
+reason for him to exhibit concern at the news that John had spent the
+night at Healthward Ho.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" he said carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said John. "Most hospitable he was. I can't say I liked him,
+though."</p>
+
+<p>"No?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Perhaps what prejudiced me against him was the fact of his having
+burgled the Hall the night before last."</p>
+
+<p>More and more Mr. Carmody was feeling, as Ronnie Fish had no doubt
+felt at the concert, that he had been forced into playing a part to
+which he was not equal. It was obviously in the rôle that at this point
+he should register astonishment, and he did his best to do so. But
+the gasp he gave sounded so unconvincing to him that he hastened to
+supplement his words.</p>
+
+<p>"What! What are you saying? Doctor Twist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Twist."</p>
+
+<p>"But.... But...!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's come as quite a surprise to you, hasn't it?" said John. And for
+the first time since this interview had begun Mr. Carmody became alive
+to the fact that in his nephew's manner there was a subtle something
+which he did not like, something decidedly odd. This might, of course,
+simply be due to the circumstance that the young man's chin was
+bristling with an unsightly growth and his eyes red about the rims.
+Perhaps it was merely his outward appearance that gave the suggestion
+of the sinister. But Mr. Carmody did not think so. He noted now that
+John's eyes, besides being red, were strangely keen. Their expression
+seemed, to his sensitive conscience, accusing. The young man was
+looking at him—yes, undoubtedly the young man was looking at him most
+unpleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," said John, "Bolt gave me this ticket yesterday to give to
+you. I forgot about it till it was too late."</p>
+
+<p>The relatively unimportant question of whether or not there was a
+peculiar look in his nephew's eyes immediately ceased to vex Mr.
+Carmody. All he felt at this instant was an almost suffocating elation.
+He stretched out an unsteady hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," he heard himself saying. "That ticket. Quite so, of course.
+Bolt left a bag for me at Shrub Hill Station."</p>
+
+<p>"He did."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me the ticket."</p>
+
+<p>"Later," said John, and put it back in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody's elation died away. There was no question now about
+the peculiar look in his companion's eye. It was a grim look. A
+hard, accusing look. Not at all the sort of look a man with a tender
+conscience likes to have boring into him.</p>
+
+<p>"What—what do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>John continued to regard him with that unpleasantly fixed stare.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear you have offered a reward of a thousand pounds for the recovery
+of those things that were stolen, Uncle Lester."</p>
+
+<p>"Er—yes. Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll claim it."</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Lester," said John, and his voice made a perfect match for his
+eye, "before I left Healthward Ho I had a little talk with Mr. Twist
+and his friend Mr. Molloy. They told me a lot of interesting things. Do
+you get my meaning, or shall I make it plainer?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody, who had bristled for a moment with the fury of a
+parsimonious man who sees danger threatening his cheque book, sank
+slowly back into his chair like a balloon coming to rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" said John. "Write out a cheque and make it payable to Colonel
+Wyvern."</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Wyvern?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am passing the reward on to him. I have a particular reason for
+wanting to end all that silly trouble between you two, and I think this
+should do it. I know he is simply waiting for you to make some sort of
+advance. So you're going to make an advance—of a thousand pounds."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody gulped.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't five hundred be enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand."</p>
+
+<p>"It's such a lot of money."</p>
+
+<p>"A nice round sum," said John.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody did not share his nephew's views as to what constituted
+niceness and roundness in a sum of money, but he did not say so. He
+sighed deeply and drew his cheque book from its drawer. He supposed in
+a vague sort of way that he ought to be feeling grateful to the young
+man for not heaping him with reproaches and recrimination, but the
+agony of what he was about to do prevented any such emotion. All he
+could feel was that dull, aching sensation which comes to most of us
+when we sit down to write cheques for the benefit of others.</p>
+
+<p>It was as if some malignant fate had brooded over him, he felt, ever
+since this business had started. From the very first, life had been
+one long series of disbursements. All the expense of entertaining the
+Molloy family, not to mention the unspeakable Ronnie Fish.... The car
+going to and fro between Healthward Ho and Rudge at six shillings per
+trip.... The five hundred pounds he had had to pay to get Hugo out of
+the house.... And now this appalling, devastating sum for which he had
+just begun to write his cheque. Money going out all the time! Money ...
+money ... money ... And all for nothing!</p>
+
+<p>He blotted the cheque and held it out.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't give it to me," said John. "You're coming with me now to Colonel
+Wyvern's house, to hand it to him in person with a neat little speech."</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't know what to say."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well."</p>
+
+<p>"And after that," said John, "you and he are going to be like two
+love-birds." He thumped the desk. "Do you understand? Love-birds."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well."</p>
+
+<p>There was something in the unhappy man's tone as he spoke, something so
+crushed and forlorn that John could not but melt a little. He paused at
+the door. It crossed his mind that he might possibly be able to cheer
+him up.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Lester," he said, "how did you get on with Sergeant-Major
+Flannery at Healthward Ho?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody winced. Unpleasant memories seemed to be troubling him.</p>
+
+<p>"Just before I left," said John, "I blacked his eye and we fell
+downstairs together."</p>
+
+<p>"Downstairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right down the entire flight. He thumped his head against an oak
+chest."</p>
+
+<p>On Mr. Carmody's drawn face there hovered for an instant a faint
+flickering smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you'd be pleased," said John.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern hitched the celebrated eyebrows into a solid mass across
+the top of his nose, and from beneath them stared hideously at Jane,
+his parlour maid. Jane had just come into the morning room, where he
+was having a rather heated conversation with his daughter, Patricia,
+and had made the astounding statement that Mr. Lester Carmody was
+waiting in his front hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Who?" said Colonel Wyvern, rumbling like a thunder cloud.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, please, sir, Mr. Carmody."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Carmody?"</p>
+
+<p>"And Mr. Carroll, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Pat, who had been standing by the French windows, caught in her breath
+with a little click of her firm white teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Show them in, Jane," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not see that old thug," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>"Show them in, Jane," repeated Pat, firmly. "You must, Father," she
+said as the door closed. "He may have come to apologize about that
+dynamite thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Much more likely he's come about that business of yours. Well, I've
+told you already and I say it again that nothing will induce me..."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Father. We can talk about that later. I'll be out in the
+garden if you want me."</p>
+
+<p>She went out through the French windows, and almost simultaneously the
+door opened and John and his uncle came in.</p>
+
+<p>John paused in the doorway, gazing eagerly toward the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Was that Pat?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>"Was that Pat I thought I caught a glimpse of, going into the garden?"</p>
+
+<p>"My daughter has just gone into the garden," said Colonel Wyvern with
+cold formality.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" said John. He seemed about to follow her but a sudden bark from
+the owner of the house brought him to a halt.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said Colonel Wyvern, and the monosyllable was a verbal pistol
+shot. It brought John back instantly from dreamland, and, almost more
+than the spectacle of his host's eyebrows, told him that life was stern
+and life was earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Oh yes?"</p>
+
+<p>John advanced to the table, meeting the Colonel's gaze with a steady
+eye. There is this to be said for being dosed with knock-out drops and
+shut up in locked rooms and having to take your meals through bars from
+the hands of a sergeant-major whom only a mother could love—it fits
+a normally rather shy and diffident young man for the battles of life
+as few other experiences would be able to fit him. The last time he
+and this bushy-eyebrowed man had met, John had quailed. But now mere
+eyebrows meant nothing to him. He felt hardened, like one who has been
+through the furnace.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you are surprised to see us here?"</p>
+
+<p>"More surprised than pleased."</p>
+
+<p>"My uncle was anxious to have a few words with you."</p>
+
+<p>"I have not the slightest desire...."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will just let me explain...."</p>
+
+<p>"I repeat, I have not the slightest desire...."</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Sit Down!</span>" said John.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Wyvern sat down, rather as if he had been hamstrung. The action
+had been purely automatic, the outcome of that involuntary spasm of
+acquiescence which comes upon everybody when someone speaks very
+loudly and peremptorily in their presence. His obsequiousness was only
+momentary, and he was about to inquire of John what the devil he meant
+by speaking to him like that, when the young man went on.</p>
+
+<p>"My uncle has been very much concerned," said John, "about that
+unfortunate thing that happened in the park some weeks ago. It has been
+on his mind."</p>
+
+<p>The desire to say something almost inhumanely sarcastic and the
+difficulty of finding just the right words caused the Colonel to miss
+his chance of interrupting at this point. What should have been a
+searing retort became a mere splutter.</p>
+
+<p>"He feels he behaved badly to you. He admits freely that in grabbing
+you round the waist and putting you in between him and that dynamite he
+acted on the spur of an impulse to which he should never have yielded.
+He has been wondering ever since how best he might heal the breach.
+Haven't you, Uncle Lester?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody swallowed painfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"He says 'Yes'," said John, relaying the information to its receiving
+station. "You have always been his closest friend, and the thought that
+there was this estrangement has been preying on my uncle's mind. This
+morning, unable to endure it any longer, he came to me and asked my
+advice. I was very glad to give it him. And I am still more glad that
+he took it. My uncle will now say a few words.... Uncle Lester!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody rose haltingly from his seat. He was a man who stood on the
+verge of parting with one thousand pounds in cool cash, and he looked
+it. His face was haggard, and his voice, when he contrived to speak,
+thin and trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyvern, I...."</p>
+
+<p>"... thought ..." prompted John.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought," said Mr. Carmody, "that in the circumstances...."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be best...."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be best if...."</p>
+
+<p>Words—and there should have been sixty-three more of them—failed Mr.
+Carmody. He pushed a slip of paper across the table and resumed his
+seat, a suffering man.</p>
+
+<p>"I fail to...." began Colonel Wyvern. And then his eye fell on the slip
+of paper, and pomposity slipped from him like breath off a razor blade.
+"What—what——?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Moral and intellectual damages," said John. "My uncle feels he owes it
+to you."</p>
+
+<p>Silence fell upon the room. The Colonel had picked up the cheque and
+was scrutinizing it as if he had been a naturalist and it some rare
+specimen encountered in the course of his walks abroad. His eyebrows,
+disentangling themselves and moving apart, rose in an astonishment he
+made no attempt to conceal. He looked from the cheque to Mr. Carmody
+and back again.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" said Colonel Wyvern.</p>
+
+<p>With a sudden movement he tore the paper in two, burst into a crackling
+laugh and held his hand out.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" he cried jovially. "Do you think I want money? All I ever
+wanted was for you to admit you were an old scoundrel and murderer, and
+you've done it. And if you knew how lonely it's been in this infernal
+place with no one to speak to or smoke a cigar with...."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carmody had risen, in his eyes the look of one who sees visions and
+beholds miracles. He gazed at his old friend in awe. Long as he had
+known him, it was only now that he realized his true nobility of soul.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyvern!"</p>
+
+<p>"Carmody," said Colonel Wyvern, "how are the pike?"</p>
+
+<p>"The pike?" Mr. Carmody blinked, still dazed. "Pike?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the moat. Have you caught the big one yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come up and try for him this afternoon, shall I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"He says 'Yes'," said John, interpreting.</p>
+
+<p>"And only just now," said Colonel Wyvern, "I was savaging my daughter
+because she wanted to marry into your family!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" cried Mr. Carmody, and John clutched the edge of the
+table. His heart had given a sudden, ecstatic leap, and for an instant
+the room had seemed to rock about him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. He broke into another of his laughs, and
+John could not help wondering where Pat had got that heavenly tinkle of
+silver bells which served her on occasion when she was amused. Not from
+her father's side of the family.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Carmody.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Colonel Wyvern. "She came to me just before you arrived and
+told me that she wanted to marry your nephew Hugo."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+
+<h3 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h3>
+<p class="ph2">I</p>
+
+<p>Some years before, in pursuance of his duties as a member of the
+English Rugby Football fifteen, it had become necessary for John one
+rainy afternoon in Dublin to fall on the ball at a moment when five or
+six muscular Irish forwards full of Celtic enthusiasm were endeavouring
+to kick it. Until this moment he had always ranked that as the most
+unpleasant and disintegrating experience of his life.</p>
+
+<p>His fingers tightened their clutch on the table. He found its support
+grateful. He blinked, once very quickly as if he had just received a
+blow in the face, and then a second time more slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>He felt numbed, just as he had felt numbed in Dublin when what had
+appeared to be a flock of centipedes with cleated boots had made him
+the object of their attentions. All the breath had gone out of him, and
+though what he was suffering was at the present more a dull shock than
+actual pain, he realized dimly that there would be pain coming shortly
+in full measure.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Faintly blurred by the drumming of the blood in his ears, there came to
+him the sound of his uncle's voice. Mr. Carmody was saying that he was
+delighted. And the utter impossibility of remaining in the same room
+with a man who could be delighted at the news that Pat was engaged to
+Hugo swept over John like a wave. Releasing his grip on the table, he
+laid a course for the French windows and, reaching them, tottered out
+into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>Pat was walking on the little lawn, and at the sight of her his
+numbness left John. He seemed to wake with a start, and, waking, found
+himself in the grip of a great many emotions which, after seething and
+bubbling for a while, crystallized suddenly into a white-hot fury.</p>
+
+<p>He was hurt all over and through and through, but he was so angry that
+only subconsciously was he aware of this. Pat was looking so cool
+and trim and alluring, so altogether as if it caused her no concern
+whatever that she had made a fool of a good man, raising his hopes only
+to let them fall and encouraging him to dream dreams only to shatter
+them, that he felt he hated her.</p>
+
+<p>She turned as he stepped onto the grass, and they looked at one another
+in silence for a moment. Then John, in a voice which was strangely
+unlike his own, said, "Good morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning," said Pat, and there was silence again.</p>
+
+<p>She did not attempt to avoid his eye—the least, John felt, that she
+could have done in the circumstances. She was looking straight at him,
+and there was something of defiance in her gaze. Her chin was tilted.
+To her, judging from her manner, he was not the man whose hopes she had
+frivolously raised by kissing him that night on the Skirme, but merely
+an unwelcome intruder interrupting a pleasant reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"So you're back?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>John swallowed what appeared to be some sort of obstruction half-way
+down his chest. He was anxious to speak, but afraid that, if he spoke,
+he would stammer. And a man on an occasion like this does not wish to
+give away by stammering the fact that he is not perfectly happy and
+debonair and altogether without a care in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear you're engaged to Hugo," he said, speaking carefully and
+spacing the syllables so that they did not run into each other as they
+showed an inclination to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I congratulate you."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to congratulate him, oughtn't you, and just say to me that
+you hope I'll be happy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will be happy," said John, accepting this maxim from the
+Book of Etiquette.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks."</p>
+
+<p>"Very happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"It's—a little sudden, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"When did Hugo get back?"</p>
+
+<p>"This morning. His letter arrived by the first post, and he came in
+right on top of it."</p>
+
+<p>"His letter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He wrote asking me to marry him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?"</p>
+
+<p>Pat traced an arabesque on the grass with the toe of her shoe.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a beautiful letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very. I didn't think Hugo was capable of it."</p>
+
+<p>John remained for a moment without speaking. He searched his mind for
+care-free, debonair remarks, and found it singularly short of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo's a splendid chap," he contrived to say at length.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes—so bright!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Nice-looking fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"A thoroughly good chap."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>John found that he had exhausted the subject of Hugo's qualities.
+He relapsed into a gray silence and half thought of treading on an
+offensively cheerful worm which had just appeared beside his shoe and
+seemed to be asking for it.</p>
+
+<p>Pat stifled a little yawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you have a nice time yesterday?" she asked carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so very nice," said John. "I dare say you heard that we had a
+burglary up at the Hall? I went off to catch the criminals and they
+caught me!"</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"I was fool enough to let myself be drugged, and when I woke up I was
+locked in a room with bars on the windows. I only got out an hour or so
+ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie!"</p>
+
+<p>"However, it all ended happily. I've got back the stuff that was
+stolen."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Johnnie! I thought you had gone off picnicking with that Molloy
+girl."</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been her idea of picnicking. She was one of the gang.
+Quite the leading spirit, I gather."</p>
+
+<p>He had lowered his eyes, wondering once more whether it would not be
+judicious to put it across that worm after all, when an odd choking
+sound caused him to look up. Pat's mouth had opened, and she was
+staring at him wide-eyed. And if she had ever looked more utterly
+beautiful and marvellous, John could not remember the occasion.
+Something seemed to clutch at his throat, and the garden, seen
+indistinctly through a mist, danced a few steps in a tentative sort of
+way, as if it were trying out something new that had just come over
+from America.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as the mist cleared, John found that he and Pat were not, as
+he had supposed, alone. Standing beside him was a rugged and slightly
+unkempt person clad in a bearskin which had obviously not been made to
+measure, in whom he recognized at once that Stone Age Ancestor of his
+who had given him a few words of advice the other night on the path
+leading to the boathouse.</p>
+
+<p>The Ancestor was looking at him reproachfully. In appearance he was
+rather like Sergeant-Major Flannery, and when he spoke it was with that
+well-remembered voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo-er," said the Ancestor, peevishly twiddling a flint-axe in his
+powerful fingers. "Now you see, young fellow, what's happened or
+occurred or come about, if I may use the expression, through your not
+doing what I told you. Did I or did I not repeatedly urge and advise
+you to be'ave towards this girl in the manner which 'as been tested
+and proved the correct one by me and all the rest of your ancestors in
+the days when men were men and knew how to go about these matters? Now
+you've lost her, whereas if you'd done as I said...."</p>
+
+<p>"Stay!" said a quiet, saintly voice, and John perceived that another
+form had ranged itself beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, maybe it's not too late even now...."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said the newcomer, and John was now able to see that this was
+his Better Self, "I really must protest. Let us, please, be restrained
+and self-effacing. I deprecate these counsels of violence."</p>
+
+<p>"Tested and proved correct...." inserted the Ancestor. "I'm giving him
+good advice, that's what I'm doing. I'm pointing out to 'im, as you may
+say, the proper method."</p>
+
+<p>"I consider your advice subversive to a degree," said Better Self
+coldly, "and I disapprove of your methods. The obviously correct thing
+for this young man to do in the circumstances in which he finds himself
+is to accept the situation like a gentleman. This girl is engaged to
+another man, a good-looking, bright young man, the heir to a great
+estate and an excellent match...."</p>
+
+<p>"Mashed potatoes!" said the Stone Age Ancestor coarsely. "The 'ole
+thing 'ere, young fellow, is you just take this girl and grab her
+and 'old 'er in your arms, as the saying is, and never mind how many
+bright, good-looking young men she's engaged to. 'Strewth! When I was
+in me prime you wouldn't have found me 'esitating. You do as I say, me
+lad, and you won't regret it. Just you spring smartly to attention and
+grab 'er with both 'ands in a soldierly manner."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!" said Pat, and her voice was a wail.
+Her eyes were bright with dismay, and her hands fluttered in a helpless
+manner which alone would have been enough to decide a man already
+swaying toward the methods of the good old days when cavemen were
+cavemen.</p>
+
+<p>John hesitated no longer. Hugo be blowed! His Better Self be blowed!
+Everything and everybody be blowed except this really excellent old
+gentleman who, though he might have been better tailored, was so
+obviously a mine of information on what a young man should know.
+Drawing a deep breath and springing smartly to attention, he held out
+his arms in a soldierly manner, and Pat came into them like a little
+boat sailing into harbour after a storm. A faint receding sigh told
+him that his Better Self had withdrawn discomfited, but the sigh was
+drowned by the triumphant approval of the Ancestor.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo-er," boomed the Ancestor thunderously.</p>
+
+<p>"So this is how it feels!" said John to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Johnnie!" said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>The garden had learned that dance now. It was simple once you got the
+hang of it. All you had to do, if you were a tree, was to jump up and
+down, while, if you were a lawn, you just went round and round. So the
+trees jumped up and down and the lawn went round and round, and John
+stood still in the middle of it all, admiring it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Johnnie," said Pat. "What on earth shall I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Go on just like you are now."</p>
+
+<p>"But about Hugo, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo? Hugo? John concentrated his mind. Yes, he recalled now, there had
+been some little difficulty about Hugo. What was it? Ah, yes.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat," he said, "I love you. Do you love me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what on earth," demanded John, "did you go and do a silly thing
+like getting engaged to Hugo for?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke a little severely, for in some mysterious fashion all the
+awe with which this girl had inspired him for so many years had left
+him. His inferiority complex had gone completely. And it was due, he
+gathered, purely and solely to the fact that he was holding her in his
+arms and kissing her. At any moment during the last half-dozen years
+this childishly simple remedy had been at his disposal and he had not
+availed himself of it. He was astonished at his remissness, and his
+feeling of gratitude, toward that Ancestor of his in the baggy bearskin
+who had pointed out the way, became warmer than ever.</p>
+
+<p>"But I thought you didn't care a bit for me," wailed Pat.</p>
+
+<p>John stared.</p>
+
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't care for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"You thought I didn't care for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you had promised to take me to Wenlock Edge and you never turned
+up and I found you had gone out in your car with that Molloy girl.
+Naturally I thought...."</p>
+
+<p>"You shouldn't have."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I did. And so when Hugo's letter came it seemed such a wonderful
+chance of showing you that I didn't care. And now what am I to do? What
+can I say to Hugo?"</p>
+
+<p>It was a nuisance for John to have to detach his mind from what really
+mattered in life to trivialities like this absurd business of Hugo, but
+he supposed the thing, if only to ease Pat's mind, would have to be
+given a little attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugo thinks he's engaged to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he isn't."</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then that," said John, seeing the thing absolutely clearly, "is all
+we've got to tell him."</p>
+
+<p>"You talk as if it were so simple!"</p>
+
+<p>"So it is. What's hard about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you had it to do instead of me!"</p>
+
+<p>"But of course I'll do it," said John. It astonished him that she
+should have contemplated any other course. Naturally, when the great
+strong man becomes engaged to the timid, fluttering little girl he
+takes over all her worries and handles in his efficient, masculine way
+any problem that may be vexing her.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you really, Johnnie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel I can look him in the face."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't miss much. Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"He went off in the direction of the village."</p>
+
+<p>"Carmody Arms," diagnosed John. "I'll go and tell him at once." And he
+strode down the garden with strong, masterful steps.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">II</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was not in the Carmody Arms. He was standing on the bridge over
+the Skirme, his elbows resting on the parapet, his eyes fixed on the
+flowing water. For a suitor recently accepted by—presumably—the girl
+of his heart, he looked oddly downcast. His eye, when he turned at the
+sound of his name, was the eye of a fish that has had trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, John, old man," he said in a toneless voice.</p>
+
+<p>John began to feel his way into the subject he had come to discuss.</p>
+
+<p>"Nice day," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What is?" said Hugo.</p>
+
+<p>"This."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you think so. John," said Hugo, attaching himself sombrely
+to his cousin's coat sleeve, "I want your advice. In many ways you're
+a stodgy sort of a Gawd-help-us, but you're a level-headed kind of old
+bird, at that, and I want your advice. The fact is, John, believe me or
+believe me not, I've made an ass of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've gone and got engaged to Pat."</p>
+
+<p>Having exploded this bombshell, Hugo leaned against the parapet and
+gazed at his cousin with a certain moody satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" said John.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem much surprised," said Hugo, disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm astonished," said John. "How did it happen?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo, who had released his companion's coat sleeve, now reached out for
+it again. The feel of it seemed to inspire him.</p>
+
+<p>"It was that bloke Bessemer's wedding that started the whole trouble,"
+he said. "You remember I told you about Ronnie's man, Bessemer."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember you said he had remarkable ears."</p>
+
+<p>"Like airplane wings. Nevertheless, in spite of that, he got married
+yesterday. The wedding took place from Ronnie's flat."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugo sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know how it is, John, old man. There's something about a
+wedding, even the wedding of a gargoyle like Bessemer, that seems
+to breed sentimentality. It may have been the claret cup. I warned
+Ronnie from the first against the claret cup. A noxious drink. But he
+said—with a good deal of truth, no doubt—that if I thought he was
+going to waste champagne on a blighter who was leaving him in the lurch
+without a tear I was jolly well mistaken. So we more or less bathed in
+claret cup at the subsequent festivities, and it wasn't more than an
+hour afterward when something seemed to come over me all in a rush."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, a sort of aching, poignant feeling. All the sorrows of the world
+seemed to be laid out in front of me in a solid mass."</p>
+
+<p>"That sounds more like lobster."</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been the lobster," conceded Hugo. "But I maintain that the
+claret cup helped. Well, I just sat there, bursting with pity for the
+whole human race, and then suddenly it all seemed in a flash, as it
+were, to become concentrated on Pat."</p>
+
+<p>"You burst with pity for Pat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You see, an idea suddenly came to me. I thought about you and Pat
+and how Pat, in spite of all my arguments, wouldn't look at you, and
+all at once there flashed across me what I took to be the explanation.
+Something seemed to whisper to me that the reason Pat couldn't see you
+with a spy glass was that all these years she had been secretly pining
+for me."</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth made you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looking back on it now, in a clear and judicial frame of mind, I can
+see that it was the claret cup. That and the general ghastly, soppy
+atmosphere of a wedding. I sat straight down, John, old man, and I
+wrote a letter to Pat, asking her to marry me. I was filled with a sort
+of divine pity for the poor girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you call her the poor girl? She wasn't married to you."</p>
+
+<p>"And then I had a moment of sense, so I thought that before I posted
+the letter I'd go for a stroll and think it over. I left the letter on
+Ronnie's desk, and got my hat and took a turn round the Serpentine.
+And, what with the fresh air and everything, pretty soon I found Reason
+returning to her throne. I had been on the very brink, I realized, of
+making a most consummate chump of myself. Here I was, I reflected, on
+the threshold of a career, when it was vitally necessary that I should
+avoid all entanglements, and concentrate myself wholly on my life
+work, deliberately going out of my way to get myself hitched up. I'm
+not saying anything against Pat. Don't think that. We've always been
+the best of pals, and if I were backed into a corner and made to marry
+someone I'd just as soon it was her. It was the principle of the thing
+that was all wrong, if you see what I mean. Entanglements. I had to
+keep myself clear of them."</p>
+
+<p>Hugo paused and glanced down at the water of the Skirme, as if debating
+the advisability of throwing himself into it. After a while he resumed.</p>
+
+<p>"I was bunging a bit of wedding cake to the Serpentine ducks when I
+got this flash of clear vision, and I turned straight round and legged
+it back to the flat to destroy that letter. And when I got there the
+letter had gone. And the bride's mother, a stout old lady with a cast
+in the left eye, who was still hanging about the kitchen, finishing
+up the remains of the wedding feast, told me without a tremor in her
+voice, with her mouth full of lobster mayonnaise, that she had given it
+to Bessemer to post on his way to the station."</p>
+
+<p>"So there you were," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"So there," agreed Hugo, "I was. The happy pair, I knew, were to spend
+the honeymoon at Bexhill, so I rushed out and grabbed a taxi and
+offered the man double fare if he would get me to Victoria Station in
+five minutes. He did it with seconds to spare, but it was too late.
+The first thing I saw on reaching the platform was the Bexhill train
+pulling out. Bessemer's face was visible in one of the front coaches.
+He was leaning out of the window, trying to detach a white satin shoe
+which some kind friend had tied to the door handle. And I slumped back
+against a passing porter, knowing that this was the end."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I went back to Ronnie's flat to look up the trains to Rudge. Are
+you aware, John, that this place has the rottenest train service in
+England? After the five-sixteen, which I'd missed, there isn't anything
+till nine-twenty. And, what with having all this on my mind and getting
+a bit of dinner and not keeping a proper eye on the clock, I missed
+that, too. In the end, I had to take the 3 A.M. milk train. I
+won't attempt to describe to you what a hell of a journey it was, but I
+got to Rudge at last, and, racing like a hare, rushed to Pat's house. I
+had a sort of idea I might intercept the postman and get him to give me
+my letter back."</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't have done that."</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't have to, as things turned out. Just as I got to the house,
+he was coming out after delivering the letters. I think I must have
+gone to sleep then, standing up. At any rate, I came to with a deuce of
+a start, and I was leaning against Pat's front gate, and there was Pat
+looking at me, and I said, 'Hullo!' and she said, 'Hullo! and then she
+said in rather a rummy sort of voice that she'd got my letter and read
+it and would be delighted to marry me."</p>
+
+<p>"And then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I said, 'Thanks awfully,' or words to that effect, and tooled off
+to the Carmody Arms to get a bite of breakfast. Which I sorely needed,
+old boy. And then I think I fell asleep again, because the next thing
+I knew was old Judwin, the coffee-room waiter, trying to haul my head
+out of the marmalade. After that I came here and stood on this bridge,
+thinking things over. And what I want to know from you, John, is what
+is to be done."</p>
+
+<p>John reflected.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an awkward business."</p>
+
+<p>"Dashed awkward. It's imperative that I oil out, and yet I don't want
+to break the poor girl's heart."</p>
+
+<p>"This will require extraordinarily careful handling."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>John reflected again.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see," he said suddenly, "when did you say Pat got engaged to
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been around nine, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"You're sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that would be the time the first post would be delivered,
+wouldn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but you said you went to sleep after seeing the postman."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true. But what does it matter, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's most important. Well, look here, it was more than ten minutes
+ago, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it was."</p>
+
+<p>John's face cleared.</p>
+
+<p>"Then that's all right," he said. "Because ten minutes ago Pat got
+engaged to me."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+<p class="ph2">III</p>
+
+<p>A light breeze was blowing through the garden as John returned. It
+played with sunshine in Pat's hair as she stood by the lavender hedge.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" she said eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right," said John.</p>
+
+<p>"You told him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause. The bees buzzed among the lavender.</p>
+
+<p>"Was he——?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cut up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said John in a low voice. "But he took it like a sportsman. I
+left him almost cheerful."</p>
+
+<p>He would have said more, but at this moment his attention was diverted
+by a tickling sensation in his right leg. A suspicion that one of the
+bees, wearying of lavender, was exploring the surface of his calf, came
+to John. But, even as he raised a hand to swat the intruder, Pat spoke
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie."</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."</p>
+
+<p>John's suspicion grew. It felt like a bee. He believed it was a bee.</p>
+
+<p>"Thinking? What about?"</p>
+
+<p>"You."</p>
+
+<p>"Me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"What were you thinking about me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only that you were the most wonderful thing in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are, you know," said Pat, examining him gravely. "I don't know
+what it is about you, and I can't imagine why I have been all
+these years finding it out, but you're the dearest, sweetest, most
+angelic...."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me more," said John.</p>
+
+<p>He took her in his arms, and time stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"Pat!" whispered John.</p>
+
+<p>He was now positive that it was a bee, and almost as positive that it
+was merely choosing a suitable spot before stinging him. But he made no
+move. The moment was too sacred.</p>
+
+<p>After all, bee stings were good for rheumatism.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph2">THE END</p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONEY FOR NOTHING ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>