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diff --git a/old/7jeev10.zip b/old/7jeev10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee81002 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7jeev10.zip diff --git a/old/7jeev10.zip~ b/old/7jeev10.zip~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee81002 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7jeev10.zip~ diff --git a/old/8164-8.txt b/old/8164-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a7de27 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8164-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7297 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: My Man Jeeves + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] +Release Date: May, 2005 +[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] +Last updated: August 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +MY MAN JEEVES + + + + +BY P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1919 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + +ABSENT TREATMENT + +HELPING FREDDIE + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + + +Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. +Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's +like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements +at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know +the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train +for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to +think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're +right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of +omniscience. + +As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond +Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I +felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address +of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the +hour. + +"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one +of Mr. Byng's." + +"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." + +"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." + +"Unsuitable for you, sir." + +Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came +home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I +nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a +music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in +absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and +that's all there is to it. + +But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, +though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows +everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." +I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, +red-hot tabasco. + +"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good +turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on +Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" + +He shook his head. + +"I'd rather not, sir." + +"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." + +"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second +place is what the stable is after." + +Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know +anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till +he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and +nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. + +"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. +From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." + +"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." + +And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean +would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, +don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with +Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, +when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to +ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. + +"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. + +I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my +cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square +way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I +left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to +stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got +the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound +scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and +having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out +to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm +bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody +was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going +on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced +me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before +I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses +up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly +around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy +coves. + +Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, +but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines +with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the +game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the +thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people +come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until +you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a +chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture +for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got +a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the +advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived +from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in +the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's +apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had +made quite an indecently large stack out of it. + +Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty +soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle +was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was +fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, +however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had +no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the +way the above Worple used to harry him. + +Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't +think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to +chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and +work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with +him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what +Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom +of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too +beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an +artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by +using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to +cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. + +He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple +was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the +American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. +When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he +just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start +being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was +what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called +_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More +American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that +he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds +gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let +him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked +with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so +these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the +time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the +frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when +broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. + +To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of +extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that +Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction +on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I +should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. + +So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl +in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancée, Miss +Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the +one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke +were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" + +The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking +anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but +can't think what the deuce to do with the body. + +"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you +might suggest a way of breaking it to him." + +Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a +way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were +the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it +yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me +as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man +isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of +feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, +little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was +nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those +innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your +system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out +to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to +tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, +you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and +dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I +felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. + +"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said +to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." + +Corky declined to cheer up. + +"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. +That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of +principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had +gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he +would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." + +I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. + +"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance +without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" + +"But how can I work it that way?" + +I saw his point. That was the catch. + +"There's only one thing to do," I said. + +"What's that?" + +"Leave it to Jeeves." + +And I rang the bell. + +"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy +things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very +seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies +in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in +a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they +want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he +says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite +bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh +of animals slain in anger and pie. + +The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful +attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost +child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him +that gave me confidence. + +Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye +gleams with the light of pure intelligence. + +"Jeeves, we want your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. + +"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way +by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting +on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, try to think of something." + +"I have thought of something already, sir." + +"You have!" + +"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may +seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial +outlay." + +"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an +idea, but it's going to cost a bit." + +Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the +whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting +gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. + +"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only +too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." + +"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's +attachment to ornithology." + +"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" + +"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite +unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the +flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. +Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I +have mentioned." + +"Oh! Well?" + +"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let +us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it +to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, +sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to +eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the +same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy +to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in +which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one +to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired +result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." + +I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage +when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had +betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me +down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to +hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's +brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. + +"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +The girl made an objection. + +"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even +write good letters." + +"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the +direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of +our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will +receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose +your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both +feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency +to kick like a steer." + +I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family +when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the +recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and +the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it +is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but +uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, +legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. + +But Jeeves had a solution, of course. + +"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious +author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for +a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should +appear on the title page." + +"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred +dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand +words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different +names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. +I'll get after him right away." + +"Fine!" + +"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent +fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number +now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while +a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real +work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the +old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny +book came along. + +I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The +Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was +there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang +at the door and the parcel was delivered. + +It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some +species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened +a copy at random. + +"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as +you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, +carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are +older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful +book--_American Birds_." + +You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later +there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed +cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap +who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. +I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the +world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a +certain disposition towards chumminess in him. + +"It's a cert!" I said. + +"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. + +And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to +tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so +dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. +Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author +of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would +be delighted to make her acquaintance. + +Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had +invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for +several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been +wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out +right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop +into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel +inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by +herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out +telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. + +"Well, well, well, what?" I said. + +"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" + +"Corky around?" + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" + +"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." + +It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a +kind of thingummy, you know. + +"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" + +"A row?" + +"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both +sides--er--and all that sort of thing." + +"Why, whatever makes you think that?" + +"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually +dined with him before you went to the theatre." + +"I've left the stage now." + +Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time +I had been away. + +"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" + +"Yes." + +"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." + +"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is +a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." + +I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of +healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he +looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. + +"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of +Bruce's, Alexander." + +The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from +hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. + +"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you +would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this +playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I +noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be +introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. +Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the +pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you +dined?" + +I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I +wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. + +When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I +called him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid +of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of +news for you." + +He came back with a tray and a long glass. + +"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." + +"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." + +"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You +remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by +writing the book on birds?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." + +He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. + +"That was always a development to be feared, sir." + +"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" + +"It crossed my mind as a possibility." + +"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" + +"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." + +Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer +frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to +it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a +cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the +same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky +again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of +soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few +months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was +beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather +up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the +healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on +it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple +had presented her husband with a son and heir. + +I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to +touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled +over. Absolutely. It was the limit. + +I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to +Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and +then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the +touch. I gave it him in waves. + +But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it +was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this +just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I +pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his +bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I +bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the +studio. + +I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting +away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle +age, holding a baby. + +A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. + +"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. + +Corky looked over his shoulder. + +"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will +be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby +and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. + +"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." + +Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and +began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for +granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as +awkward as it might have been. + +"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The +portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes +the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. +If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted +with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a +portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in +and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it +rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into +the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit +me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't +refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my +allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I +suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a +patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted +him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front +page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are +moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist +Beans Baby With Axe.'" + +I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was +too deep for words. + +I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't +seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm +bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally +of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. + +But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. + +"Bertie." + +"Halloa?" + +"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" + +"Nothing special." + +"You couldn't come down here, could you?" + +"What's the trouble? Anything up?" + +"I've finished the portrait." + +"Good boy! Stout work!" + +"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it +doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's +coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but +I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" + +I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The +sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. + +"You think he'll cut up rough?" + +"He may." + +I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the +restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too +easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. + +"I'll come," I said. + +"Good!" + +"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" + +"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves +is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" + +"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of +yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a +den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." + +"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang +for Jeeves, and explained the situation. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. + +We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up +in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. + +"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, +tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" + +The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good +look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I +went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite +so bad from there. + +"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. + +I hesitated a bit. + +"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a +moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I +remember rightly?" + +"As ugly as that?" + +I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. + +"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." + +Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort +of way. He groaned. + +"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned +thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked +that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of +the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put +the child's soul on canvas." + +"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how +he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" + +"I doubt it, sir." + +"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" + +"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. + +"I don't see how one could help noticing." + +"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. +But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." + +"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in +the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't +you think so, Jeeves?" + +"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." + +Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle +came in. + +For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy +shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't +think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his +stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't +notice him. + +"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really +finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a +wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" + +And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he +rocked back on his heels. + +"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the +scaliest silences I've ever run up against. + +"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about +sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. + +I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. + +"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. + +"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far +away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on +Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk +of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and +my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a +house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a +competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured +supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail +and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this +foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for +idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report +at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and +start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you +should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another +cent--not another--Boosh!" + +Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out +of the bombproof shelter. + +"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. + +Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was +a hunted look in his eye. + +"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You +heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." + +I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about +the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It +was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just +been sentenced to twenty years in quod. + +And then a soothing voice broke the silence. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" + +It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at +the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the +shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by +saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves +was there. + +"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby +Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? +He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite +saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him +use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which +he promoted." + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" + +"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects +a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he +did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of +Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. +It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a +billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial +fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage +for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks +into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always +a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In +the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a +coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable +one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a +likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly +consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. +Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been +for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold +and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly +popular." + +Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking +noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. + +And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. + +"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor +blighter was hysterical. + +He began to stagger about all over the floor. + +"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! +You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on +Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I +feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the +_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the +other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me +anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. +Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded +hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" + +Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal +muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to +smiling. + +"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the +series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" + +Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. +Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. + +"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished +looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an +optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with +Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest +before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the +swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for +instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the +eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the +neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" + +"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, +sir. Extremely diverting." + +"They have made a big hit, you know." + +"I anticipated it, sir." + +I leaned back against the pillows. + +"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a +commission on these things." + +"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has +been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." + +"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"But I rather fancy myself in it." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"Oh, all right, have it your own way." + +"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is +always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? + + + + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's +Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that +it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and +more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up +behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. +It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy +matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned +up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. + +It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from +under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of +fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had +asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you +know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming +a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much +mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's +judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when +he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like +a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in +the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who +was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but +the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John +Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by +another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after +a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how +things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of +manly and independent. + +Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for +breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and +sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and +opened the door an inch. + +"What ho without there!" + +"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. + +"Eh?" + +"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." + +"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for +I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well +there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be +when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" + +"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean +liner at an early hour this morning." + +This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had +arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at +some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a +foreign shore considerably before eight. + +"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" + +"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." + +"Is she alone?" + +"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his +lordship would be her ladyship's son." + +"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." + +"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." + +"Then lead me to it." + +While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern +could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and +was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. + +"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left +London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on +social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." + +"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" + +"Eh?" + +"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" + +It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather +a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work +the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. + +"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. +Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" + +"Too ornate, sir." + +"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." + +"Unsuitable, sir." + +"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" + +"Very good, sir." + +Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was +firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into +the sitting-room. + +"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" + +"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I +think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." + +Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed +female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet +from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as +if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing +arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging +eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about +fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb +a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and +had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say +how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would +wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. + +Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. +He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered +down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't +bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the +struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any +eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. + +"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a +long stay in America?" + +"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure +and call on you." + +I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to +come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, +when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie +from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you +that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only +married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, +you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I +simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find +that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to +make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked +America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my +natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone +to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I +braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the +assemblage. + +"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be +of assistance to us." + +"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" + +"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little +while." + +I didn't get this for a moment. + +"Put him up? For my clubs?" + +"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty +darling?" + +Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. + +"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. + +"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have +him to live with you while I am away." + +These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply +didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave +Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling +the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on +me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't +you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board +at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle +into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, +rolling placidly over me, as it were. + +There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. + +"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to +Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in +America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, +visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I +am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, +_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write +a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend +more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, +but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my +dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ +after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with +me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall +have to pick him up on my return." + +From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the +breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I +felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of +putting a stop to this woman. + +"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. +Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear +Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the +country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He +will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as +if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped +chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. +"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give +him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you +so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your +help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before +my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my +information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and +take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. +Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." + +They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. + +"Jeeves! What about it?" + +"Sir?" + +"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the +dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." + +"Pill, sir?" + +"The excrescence." + +"I beg your pardon, sir?" + +I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was +as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I +understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to +get his own back. + +"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said +coldly. + +"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." + +I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any +sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a +moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he +didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I +was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! + +But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a +pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the +more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty +out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt +Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or +later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to +get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a +stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the +fellow up and make the best of it. + +About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel +of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw +it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough +in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more +cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, +and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch +with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with +excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, +the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost +forgotten blighted Motty's existence. + +I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't +till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of +Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. + +It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still +there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after +seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. + +Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the +chappie's manner that he was still upset. + +"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and +what-not. + +"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." + +"Not returned? What do you mean?" + +"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, +went out again." + +At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of +scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the +woodwork. Then a sort of thud. + +"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He went out and came back again. + +"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able +to carry him in." + +"Carry him in?" + +"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." + +I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up +outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. + +"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. +"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" + +"Sir?" + +"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or +something. Call up a doctor!" + +"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his +lordship's legs, while I----" + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" + +"I am inclined to think so, sir." + +And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't +mistake it. Motty was under the surface. + +It was the deuce of a shock. + +"You never can tell, Jeeves!" + +"Very seldom, sir." + +"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" + +"It would seem so, sir." + +"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette +and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It +seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. + +Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went +into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a +wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading +Gingery stories. + +"What ho!" I said. + +"What ho!" said Motty. + +"What ho! What ho!" + +"What ho! What ho! What ho!" + +After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. + +"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. + +"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, +that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most +frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy +dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own +invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one +of the ones!" + +I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and +sucked his stick the day before. + +"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I +said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. +But he wouldn't have it, at any price. + +"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too +much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm +going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see +me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on +the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the +defect." + +"But I say, you know, what about me?" + +"What about you?" + +"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I +mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in +the soup somewhat." + +"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old +thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to +yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great +city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so +bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my +eyes open and collect impressions." + +I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. + +"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if +my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But +duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean +to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with +life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" + +Put like that, it did seem reasonable. + +"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in +the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've +been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The +only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught +sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about +it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up +a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only +chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old +sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent +chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to +discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" + + * * * * * + +I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close +to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a +damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was +being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye +he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him +along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful +sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand +the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I +mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I +think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled +eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing +are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all +over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when +you want to sit still and digest. + +Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made +up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about +with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once +when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had +to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ +for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie +peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. + +In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about +four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over +about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. +I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no +denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of +Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded +Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of +the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to +get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and +sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and +putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber +next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose +weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest +word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. + +And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man +was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't +rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the +pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. + +"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" + +"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. + +"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the +principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha +is!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well, then." + +I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. + +"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping +with this blighter?" + +"No, sir." + +And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, +don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that +Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much +admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he +left me flat. + +It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing +pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. +This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of +town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. +I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the +evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who +frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. +That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The +neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian +dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere +wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a +collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song +when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked +peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was +extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of +soothing. + +The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place +which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty +there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch +on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared +hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an +extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped +backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall +just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" + +"That would be Rollo, sir." + +"Eh?" + +"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come +in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet +settled down." + +"Who the deuce is Rollo?" + +"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, +and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will +go in and switch on the light." + +There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the +sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without +a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such +that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down +as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his +paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have +been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all +worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me +where he had left off. + +"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally +quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." + +"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, what am I to do?" + +"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will +learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." + +"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I +intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that +one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all +right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and +stop with Mr. Todd in the country." + +"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" + +"No." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." + +"Yes, sir." + + * * * * * + +As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I +went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the +wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing +goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a +few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New +York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. +The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't +get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you +have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I +thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they +have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I +went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked +round cautiously for Rollo. + +"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" + +"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the +porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal +on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." + +I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had +misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a +lot of intelligence in him. + +"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you expect him back to dinner?" + +"No, sir." + +"Where is he?" + +"In prison, sir." + +Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? +That's how I felt then. + +"In prison!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You don't mean--in prison?" + +"Yes, sir." + +I lowered myself into a chair. + +"Why?" I said. + +"He assaulted a constable, sir." + +"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" + +"Yes, sir." + +I digested this. + +"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" + +"Sir?" + +"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" + +"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." + +"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." + +"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out +by then." + +"But supposing it hasn't?" + +"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." + +"How?" + +"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that +his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." + +"Why Boston?" + +"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." + +"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." + +"I fancy so, sir." + +"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this +hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a +sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." + +"Exactly, sir." + +The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze +seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what +the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have +pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I +reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a +small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick +at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. +Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. +Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that +I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty +existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was +still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, +but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was +tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There +was a kind of grieved look in his eye. + +And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't +been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping +along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea +and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement +that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few +garments round me and went in. + +There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as +ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she +had done the first time. + +"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" + +"I have got back." + +There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had +swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she +probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that +I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a +fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've +engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. + +"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" + +"I have not yet breakfasted." + +"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or +something?" + +"No, thank you." + +She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for +the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. + +"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." + +"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" + +"Extremely, thank you." + +"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old +Grand Canyon, and what-not?" + +"I saw a great deal." + +There was another slightly _frappé_ silence. Jeeves floated +silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. + +"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" + +I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. + +"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." + +"You were his constant companion, then?" + +"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you +know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of +lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred +concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually +played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing +sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to +Boston." + +"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" + +"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where +you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, +don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. +Yes, Motty went off to Boston." + +"You're sure he went to Boston?" + +"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in +the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't +change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" + +"No, sir." + +"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." + +"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went +yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material +for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, +seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" + +I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has +to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like +this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar +and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, +because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my +system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling +it up, and now it came out with a rush: + +"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! +So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, +thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to +you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to +the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" + +I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of +Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the +hatchet against my return. + +"You deliberately----" + +Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: + +"If I might explain, your ladyship." + +Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized +on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't +do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. + +"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and +that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when +his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that +his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had +given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a +friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till +your ladyship informed him." + +Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. + +"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is +so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, +so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away +for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that +his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, +but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." + +"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore +went to prison voluntarily?" + +"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's +parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently +heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow +your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's +book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his +lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was +doing so little to help." + +"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. + +"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of +the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one +night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." + +Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I +could see her struggling with the thing. + +"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose +that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own +volition than that he committed some breach of the law which +necessitated his arrest?" + +Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. + +"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I +should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his +pure, fine spirit." + +"Absolutely!" I said. + +"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. + +I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. + +"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that +blighter into riotous living." + +"I fancy you are right, sir." + +I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, +by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that +this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I +hesitated. Then I made up my mind. + +"Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"That pink tie!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Burn it!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, Jeeves!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" + +"Thank you very much, sir." + +I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and +all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the +novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and +decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other +things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would +like?" + +"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." + +"Fifty dollars?" + +"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his +lordship." + +"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" + +"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship +was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable +method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship +was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me +for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering +him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the +eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." + +I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. + +"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, +you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" + +"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. + + + + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + + +Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup +of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting +out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do +if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad +now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There +used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak +him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered +him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's +got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to +look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry +eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! + +The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot +it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. + +I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. +And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself +on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances +knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, +of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. + +It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to +the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink +he said: + +"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were +out." + +"Oh?" I said. + +"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." + +"What, pipped?" + +"He gave that impression, sir." + +I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a +matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss +freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained +between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on +anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You +see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this +had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, +and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval +till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while +there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is +absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was +getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my +costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the +time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my +pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim +on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old +bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. + +"He said that he would call again later, sir." + +"Something must be up, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a +good deal, so I chucked it. + +"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on +the _Carmantic_." + +"Yes?" + +"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." + +This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one +knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species +of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my +arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I +rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in +fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so +we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort +in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and +what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily +gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though +we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him +was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the +strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. + +"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? +Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who +married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." + +Jeeves knows everything. + +"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Leave any money?" + +"No, sir." + +I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the +rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I +mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but +the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy +old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was +notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American +chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left +him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old +duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was +hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. +He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on +principle. + +At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky +came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. + +"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. +Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the +trouble, Bicky?" + +"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." + +"Say on, old lad!" + +"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +Bicky seemed a bit surprised. + +"Jeeves seems to know everything." + +"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." + +"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out +of the hole I'm in." + +Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the +table. + +"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you +to rally round." + +"Very good, sir." + +Bicky looked a bit doubtful. + +"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit +private and all that." + +"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it +already. Don't you, Jeeves?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. + +"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact +that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York +instead of in Colorado?" + +Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. + +"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" + +"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He +informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on +the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." + +Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. + +"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try +to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I +was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a +remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of +the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they +call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't +fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, +and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the +scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that +remittance." + +"I get you absolutely, dear boy." + +"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, +so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I +cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business +wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back +that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm +doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you +know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" + +"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was +coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always +given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I +can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." + +"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. + +"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you +prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" + +"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." + +"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. +Bickersteth----" + +"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, +and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast +that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of +course." + +"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this +flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was +the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I +was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be +residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would +occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this +answer satisfactorily, sir." + +Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed +sort of way. + +"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace +on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. +Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. +Will that meet the situation, sir?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. + +"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it +is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you +ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the +back!" + + * * * * * + +I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present +when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean +liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much +after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was +leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. +It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish +he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in +general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down +below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out +and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could +make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York +to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of +London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy +said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and +the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. + +"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"That'll be him at the door now." + +Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy +crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. + +"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of +sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must +have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of +Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. +Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." + +Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. + +"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" + +"Absolutely." + +"It must be terribly expensive." + +"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." + +He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at +it to restore his tissues, and nodded. + +"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight +shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look +round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how +much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" + +"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." + +"What! Forty pounds a month!" + +I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the +scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was +thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew +of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, +for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as +an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most +pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. + +"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York +often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you +wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. +Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, +when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite +different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in +commercial circles as quite the nib!" + +"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" + +"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and +Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. +"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads +elsewhere." + +Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. + +"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" + +"He's upstairs now, having some tea." + +"What does he think of it all?" + +"He's absolutely rattled." + +"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See +you later." + +"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." + +He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the +club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and +going down the other. + +It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for +dinner. + +"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering +about the place. "Gone out?" + +"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. +Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective +was Grant's Tomb." + +"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are +going--what?" + +"Sir?" + +"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." + +"Not altogether, sir." + +"What's his trouble now?" + +"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth +and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, +sir." + +"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in +business, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. +Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth +is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary +assistance." + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." + +"Somewhat disturbing, sir." + +"I never expected anything like this!" + +"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." + +"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." + +My heart bled for Bicky. + +"We must do something, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can you think of anything?" + +"Not at the moment, sir." + +"There must be something we can do." + +"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I +mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there +is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the +occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his +title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting +failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another +name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have +generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No +doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's +difficulty, sir." + +"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" + +"I will spare no pains, sir." + +I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was +when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a +dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time +than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill +of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. + +When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, +hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette +hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare +in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the +newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." + +"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. + +He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact +that it hadn't anything in it. + +"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. + +He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. + +"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money +was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been +reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can +make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars +and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a +hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every +day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep +of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every +seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. +Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have +more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep +in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd +make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get +quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair +at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no +good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." + +"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." + +"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." + +That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend +money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it +to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift +the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled +tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the +second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along +Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my +neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've +simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a +hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight +and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his +uppers, not taking any at any price. + +"Well, there's only one hope, then." + +"What's that?" + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of +shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting +in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you +look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little +uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. +He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves +now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my +tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" + +"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have +found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a +liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's +potentialities as a source of revenue." + +Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, +mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, +rather like a gargle. + +"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of +inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of +regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say +so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." + +Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't +get it myself. + +"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" + +"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a +prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you +are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent +personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might +know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two +dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including +handshake, to his grace." + +Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. + +"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid +cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" + +"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for +bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave +her social standing among the neighbours." + +Bicky wavered. + +"If you think it could be done----" + +"I feel convinced of it, sir." + +"What do you think, Bertie?" + +"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." + +"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." + +And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. + +Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making +proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock +Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays +I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market +opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened +quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest +the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the +week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper +down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in +sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of +light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money +down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, +owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to +kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me +the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things +take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as +a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. + +The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it +hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of +his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever +met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room +one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was +something doing. + +"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" + +"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." + +"Sir?" + +"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." + +"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." + +"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" + +"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." + +I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. + +"Birdsburg?" + +"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." + +"How did you get them?" + +"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be +absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into +conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. +I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his +buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for +Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a +gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the +auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to +inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming +a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if +Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was +purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at +some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. +It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and +pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had +shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to +broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I +have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention +shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." + +I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. + +"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" + +"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms +finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." + +I thought a bit. + +"Payable in advance?" + +"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not +successful." + +"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. +Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect +anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" + +"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not +bright." + +"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some +money." + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Right-o!" + +"Very good, sir." + +When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told +him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the +sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic +section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. + +"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? +I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you +know." + +The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. + +"There will be no reporters among them?" + +"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" + +"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive +young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while +the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this +persecution again." + +"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man +in the place." + +"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your +friends." + +"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" + +"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules +of civilized intercourse." + +Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, +where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. + +After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg +contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal +round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very +decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn +it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We +settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, +each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the +duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up +Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted +with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the +Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out +some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we +thanked him. + +Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the +cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every +respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth +up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and +what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of +apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be +brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. + +"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. + +The old boy seemed a bit rattled. + +"I have never been to Birdsburg." + +The chappie seemed pained. + +"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in +the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" + +"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. + +The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. + +"Say!" + +He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins +and a cold eye. + +The assemblage looked at him. + +"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not +questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict +business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on +record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." + +"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. + +"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but +there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here +says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're +the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read +English novels, and I know all about it." + +"This is monstrous!" + +"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to +know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should +see that we get our money's worth." + +The water-supply cove chipped in: + +"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the +agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to +reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here +a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want +to know----" + +Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the +water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. + +"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite +politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." + +"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens +of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands +with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my +friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. +Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are +the Duke of Chiswick at all." + +Old Chiswick gulped. + +"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that +I am the Duke of Chiswick." + +"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we +wanted to know. Let the thing go on." + +"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am +feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." + +"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at +this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." + +"I fear I must disappoint them." + +"But in that case the deal would have to be off." + +"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." + +The chappie seemed troubled. + +"You really won't meet the rest of them?" + +"No!" + +"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." + +They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick +turned to Bicky: + +"Well?" + +Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. + +"Was it true what that man said?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"What do you mean by playing this trick?" + +Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. + +"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." + +Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: + +"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of +money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if +you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every +day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five +cents. + +"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" + +"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a +substantial business man." + +"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. +"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance +of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly +in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the +ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." + +Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. + +"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your +financial status!" + +"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He +doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot +stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think +it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" + +"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a +penny!" + +"But----" + +"Not a penny!" + +There was a respectful cough in the background. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" + +Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. + +"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. + +"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a +little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might +secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this +afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and +enterprising newspapers." + +"By Jove!" I said. + +"By George!" said Bicky. + +"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. + +"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. +They eat that sort of stuff." + +Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. + +"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" + +"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't +get the money any other way----" + +"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange +something." + +"I won't go to that bally ranch." + +"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a +moment suggest it. I--I think----" + +He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, +on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I +might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to +utilize your services in some secretarial position." + +"I shouldn't mind that." + +"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in +English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" + +"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred +quid a year, paid quarterly." + +"My dear boy!" + +"Absolutely!" + +"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled +opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to +accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, +you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." + +"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, +that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. +It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens +has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen +chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's +a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. +Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till +they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a +future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" + +A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be +resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. + +"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." + +"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to +celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"It beats me how you do it." + +"Yes, sir." + +"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" + +"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify +his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to +assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position +to do so." + +"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. + +"Bring my shaving things." + +A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. + +"You mean, sir?" + +"And shave off my moustache." + +There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. + +"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped +off. + + + + +ABSENT TREATMENT + + +I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most +interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but +I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. +If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; +and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a +girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. + +If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be +surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for +the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who +have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised +when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. + +In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most +pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called +me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it +came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap +was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him +a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him +a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before +the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to +see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. +By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town +before my messenger arrived. + +The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. +Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, +once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that +stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. + +At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't +occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; +that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup +chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still +doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like +that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, +as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out +things. + +She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave +about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her +living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life +there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a +girl who works for her living. + +Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she +had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those +determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself +up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and +rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't +been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to +the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. + +Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he +introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my +name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. +My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He +left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but +I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a +girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being +an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat +for years. + +Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come +to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the +greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she +thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about +her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie +didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being +quite happy. + +Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't +really start till then. + +They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite +a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be +running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I +thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There +were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. + +But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here +that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. + +I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back +to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting +myself under police protection, I went. + +When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell +you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and +crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And +she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to +describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this +was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were +dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked +domesticity. + +"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have +a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it +up now--what?" + +She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned +scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little +laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree +about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. + +"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at +me. + +And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She +talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on +the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly +little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of +thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was +working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and +that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and +everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've +sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the +rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and +got away. + +Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie +at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely +gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. + +He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to +about it. + +"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. + +I didn't exactly. + +"About a year, isn't it?" + +"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" + +Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. + +"Yesterday was----?" + +"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the +Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. +I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through +dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd +forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" + +"Till your wife mentioned it?" + +He nodded---- + +"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. + +I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be +angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, +they aren't half-hearted about it. + +"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken +sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." + +There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat +there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the +window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and +watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then +walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an +instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a +certain stratum of sense. + + * * * * * + +It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem +of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in +one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; +but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the +average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable +mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently +through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a +chump of the first water. + +And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And +Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like +dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork +disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him +against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. +Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might +cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I +had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my +life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I +forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. + +For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet +little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read +somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to +Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big +enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. +Pretty soon he was back at the old game. + +It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was +frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew +it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married +one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's +married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to +do it now, before he began to drift away. + +I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he +was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't +remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was +something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a +book. + +"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she +knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about +everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." + +He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a +couple of sovereigns. + +"Oh, by the way," he said. + +"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. + +"I owe it you." + +"How's that?" I said. + +"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were +playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, +and Murray beat him by twenty odd." + +"So you do remember some things?" I said. + +He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter +who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after +knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. + +"Subside, laddie," I said. + +Then I spoke to him like a father. + +"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull +yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're +due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to +make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, +even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've +got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included +in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." + +"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks +such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot +what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the +cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a +memorizing freak at the halls." + +"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear +that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be +trouble." + +He chewed the knob of his stick. + +"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. + +"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. + + * * * * * + +I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing +in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, +and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But +no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. +I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to +anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. +If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the +only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After +that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. +But I thought a lot about him. + +Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, +and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a +kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had +been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that +he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the +thorax. + +I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out +over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and +down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed +Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, +waving a piece of paper in his hand. + +"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" + +"Gone!" I said. "Who?" + +"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" + +"Where?" I said. + +Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly +foamed at the mouth. + +"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." + +He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. + +"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." + +So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, +but it was all to the point. This is what it said: + + "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me + to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will + come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." + +I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" + +"Why don't I what?" + +"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to +ask." + +"But she says on her birthday." + +"Well, when is her birthday?" + +"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." + +"Forgotten!" I said. + +"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." + +"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the +twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" + +"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the +thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." + +"Think." + +"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've +been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." + +"And you can't remember?" + +"No." + +I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. + +"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an +untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes +and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's +birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know +enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his +deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself +out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For +instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What +sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." + +Bobbie shook his head. + +"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." + +"Warm?" + +"Warmish." + +"Or cold?" + +"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." + +I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young +Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An +invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without +which no home is complete." + +Bobbie seemed to be thinking. + +"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on +her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the +date when it was bought, and the thing's done." + +"Absolutely. What did you give her?" + +He sagged. + +"I can't remember," he said. + +Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's +as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever +had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did +it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the +undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a +brain-wave. + +Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? +There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, +your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. +Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we +found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the +month, and narrow it down a whole lot. + +A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied +out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. +As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we +saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, +but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly +hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December +people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." +Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite +extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born +with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed +up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful +memories"--Mary's speciality. + +We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. + +Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that +month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a +happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women +"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and +expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was +about as like Mary as anything could be. + +In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went +home. + +It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old +Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It +represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the +middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that +is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had +a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think +in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his +brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow +human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was +all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these +brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all +over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would +only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the +idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. + +I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he +came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I +never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. + +One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see +that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. + +"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I +shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went +together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" + +"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" + +"Why, they change the programme every week there." + +"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." + +"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's +Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing +it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this +minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out +of them, if I have to use a crowbar." + +So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like +brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the +pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. + +"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me +another time." + +"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." + +And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. + +Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. +I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It +was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. + +"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. +We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have +been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." + +"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." + +I heard him give a sort of howl. + +"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. + +"Well?" + +"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the +Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to +bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." + +"But I'm always writing cheques." + +"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up +your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the +Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." + +He gave a kind of gulp. + +"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe +you've got it. Hold the line." + +Presently he came back again. + +"Halloa!" he said. + +"I'm here," I said. + +"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" + +"Topping," I said. "Good night." + +It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as +well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel +near the Strand. + +"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. + +"It's late," said the man at the other end. + +"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." + +I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had +frozen hard, but I was past regrets. + +"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. + +"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that +particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." + +"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" + +"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." + +She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must +be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't +you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about +my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. + +"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" + +"No." + +Well, I hadn't. + +"Mr. Pepper." + +"Yes?" + +"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" + +I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the +party. + +"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. +He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has +started out to worry after breakfast, and----" + +Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should +pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the +wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, +don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she +bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in +that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it +means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. + +And then she began. + +"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and +see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from +you would have put everything right, I can't----" + +"But----" + +"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most +unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a +kind-hearted man." + +"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" + +"I thought it hateful, abominable." + +"But you said it was absolutely top----" + +"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't +wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to +be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to +separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by +gloating over his agony----" + +"But----!" + +"When one single word would have----" + +"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. + +"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to +break your promise?" + +I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the +receiver, and crawled into bed. + + * * * * * + +I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit +the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing +invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes +went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And +as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself +together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I +am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: +"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every +minute." + + + + +HELPING FREDDIE + + +I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but +I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at +literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give +the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all +right. + +Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for +years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him +sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and +generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I +was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and +soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of +thing. + +Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes +plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to +question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the +matter was. + +As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with +Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the +engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently +she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused +to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. + +I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once +in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact +that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my +autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. + +"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to +Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the +twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." + +"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I +knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl +wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; +suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never +answered at all." + +But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had +swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to +Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. + +Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a +fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day +there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll +out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on +the wounds and go to bed. + +It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze +sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a +rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round +waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers +the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. + +Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I +began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: +for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write +home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the +carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one +finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't +play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would +blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. + +He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. + +"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." + +"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" + +"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the +doorway. She cut me!" + +He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. + +"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go +away." + +"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that +could have happened. This is where you come out strong." + +"She cut me." + +"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." + +"She looked clean through me!" + +"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. +I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her +under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly +thanking you. What you want----" + +"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" + +I thought for a moment. + +"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. + +"I can't swim," said Freddie. + +That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a +thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. + +He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. + +I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. +There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear +old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in +happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a +backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a +man of enterprise. + +Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring +like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it +was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs +of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. +She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. +On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the +girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced +that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had +been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about +the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't +think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one +of those round, bulging kids. + +After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and +began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling +sweets at a stall. And I walked on. + +Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I +don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been +chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least +expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. +I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a +single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. + +It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, +when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. +The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in +sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought +the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of +the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was +her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young +heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully +anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly +appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the +effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and +practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make +her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid +and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of +reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by +George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. + +Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine +points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him +down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if +you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and +poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. + +"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? +What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" + +The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I +raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right +stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the +stuff. + +"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. +After a while it began to strike him. + +"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said +handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." + +And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to +scour the beach for Angela. + +I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie +that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again +made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was +leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down +the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still +with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. + +"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" + +"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow +laughs. + +"Well, then----?" + +Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. + +"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. + +"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the +beach. She had never seen him before in her life." + +"What! Who is he, then?" + +"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll +probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for +kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you +through the bars." + +"Tell me all, old boy," I said. + +It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the +middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered +gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he +told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually +call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of +way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping +stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had +crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. + +"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it +at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find +the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." + + * * * * * + +By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal +kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to +restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how +kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, +but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from +the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself +in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought +to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, +and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. + +I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody +answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody +came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way +that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I +wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from +somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" + +I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and +west of it, staring down from an upper window. + +"Hi!" it shouted again. + +"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. + +"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" + +"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you +Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." + +"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" + +The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face +reappeared. + +"Hi!" + +I churned the gravel madly. + +"Do you live here?" said the face. + +"I'm staying here for a few weeks." + +"What's your name?" + +"Pepper. But----" + +"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" + +"My uncle. But----" + +"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him +now." + +"I wish you were," I said. + +He beamed down at me. + +"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to +do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles +has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of +infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most +fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate +to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any +nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take +Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written +to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few +days." + +"May!" + +"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a +week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. +Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." + +"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a +bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to +escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. + +I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. + +The window flew up again. + +"Hi!" + +A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a +bomb. + +"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed +it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's +Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a +little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." + +My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. +Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat +from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. + +As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. + +The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at +her and said, "Wah!" + +The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. + +"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you +again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this +morning," she said to me. + +This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered +lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded +good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my +breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. + +I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out +what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more +manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his +head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he +began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, +dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such +expressions. + +"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, +why don't you say something?" + +"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can we do about it?" + +"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." + +He got up. + +"I'm going back to London," he said. + +"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you +desert a pal at a time like this?" + +"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." + +"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize +that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You +wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we +were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." + +He sat down again. + +"Oh, well," he said resignedly. + +"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you +know?" + +He looked at me in a curious way. + +"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good +deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." + +Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that +crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the +local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically +incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty +satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having +undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there +were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. + +Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew +what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere +matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I +stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which +might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like +nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. + +But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next +bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their +nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid +dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered +wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat +down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver +lining there had been to the cloud up to date. + +"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a +child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and +domestic--what!" + +Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he +had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a +much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, +the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. + +Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the +kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his +portmanteau. + +"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of +thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little +treasure?" + +I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. + +"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad +situation for act two of a farce." + +"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. + +"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll +rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." + +As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid +down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. + +"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the +old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping +child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. +Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the +piano?" + +"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." + +Jimmy shook his head. + +"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. +Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit +of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up +to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' +Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses +L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big +speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very +well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes +us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just +giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the +child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We +want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and +has the punch." + +"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, +that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts +Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." + +Jimmy frowned. + +"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set +instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, +when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First +rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." + +Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not +to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't +in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we +concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw +that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing +was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. + +"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first +rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his +line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two +words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got +a success." + +I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be +one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning +intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as +exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the +kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd +go all to pieces again. And time was flying. + +"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day +now and take him away." + +"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. +We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes +who would have learned the part quicker." + +I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't +discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash +at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was +after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have +been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first +opportunity, but Jimmy said no. + +"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said +'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might +do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." + +But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. + +It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie +had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the +house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along +came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual +yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. + +"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come +up?" + +She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that +sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the +kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the +sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At +any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the +veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. + +I tried to break up the scene. + +"We were just going down to the beach," I said. + +"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your +piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for +ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when +he's finished here?" + +"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be +disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell +him later." + +"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine +Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he +will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." + +"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. + +She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in +her pocket for something. + +"The beach," I babbled. + +"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't +you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of +toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. + +That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid +was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. + +And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for +all the world as if he had been taking a cue. + +He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the +ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" + +The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy +Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards +it. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. + +"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. + +"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on +till you do." + +She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still +stood there gaping, without a word. + +"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her +eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a +fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. +Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and +see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. +It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as +if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up +and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. + +"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. + +I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. +Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief +remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the +while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. + +And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. + +And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She +leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while +Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. + +Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it +seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in +my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a +word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. +What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? + +Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. + +"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? +We must have a big rehearsal to-day." + +"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor +dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." + +"Tell me," said Jimmy. + +I told him. + +"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's +always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things +look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now +a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" + +"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" + +In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow +from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite +projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the +road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, +about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as +if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped +in each other's arms. + + * * * * * + +Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his +business had certainly gone with a bang! + + + + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + + +I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the +course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, +was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, +don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. + +We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an +old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, +my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's +maid Pilbeam and George. + +George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him +into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who +was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to +hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he +had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was +a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a +sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a +chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and +had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it +struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at +Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix +up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George +had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were +anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. + + * * * * * + +Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the +thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from +a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my +state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed +and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, +which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly +recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd +expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently +relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my +midst at that hour was too much for me. + +"Voules!" I yelled. + +Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing +in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with +that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay +him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of +emotion in him. + +"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be +Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just +seven." + +"I understood you to summon me, sir." + +"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise +outside." + +"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment +I raised my voice." + +"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" + +"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." + +"What was all the trouble about?" + +"I was breaking our engagement, sir." + +I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with +engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his +secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. + +"I think I'll get up," I said. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right +away?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was +a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all +the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. +Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit +pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for +it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? + +"Seen George?" I asked. + +I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was +queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly +close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and +slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; +she loves muh!" + +"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. + +I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that +a.m. + +The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when +the morning papers arrived. + +Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. + +"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. + +"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. + +"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." + +Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was +full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness +the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these +chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on +his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed +the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking +advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable +vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible +in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his +yacht, where he still lay unconscious. + +"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for +slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" + +"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His +Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent +private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the +police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important +clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in +Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." + +About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move +off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man +came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old +Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. + +"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on +board--Mr. George Lattaker?" + +"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I +say?" + +"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on +somewhat urgent business." + +"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him +up." + +I went down to George's state-room. + +"George, old man!" I shouted. + +No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's +more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more +surprised. I went on deck. + +"He isn't there," I said. + +"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone +for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better +wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" + +The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped +down, leaving me alone on deck. + +I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought +I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked +over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in +evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old +George. + +"Great Scot!" I cried. + +"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" + +"They're all down at breakfast." + +He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I +regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. + +"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. + +He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. + +"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How +do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about +touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of +my body this morning, Reggie!" + +"Yes, old boy?" + +"I did a murder last night." + +"What?" + +"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella +Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" + +"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" + +"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I +proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was +just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming +along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's +maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, +Reggie?" + +"Never. I've been refused dozens----" + +"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I +hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest +thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It +wasn't. It was Pilbeam." + +"You kissed her?" + +"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened +and out came Stella." + +"Great Scott!" + +"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, +not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It +did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed +off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to +forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned +my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can +recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street +and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all +I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my +hat." + +I dived for the paper. + +"Read," I said. "It's all there." + +He read. + +"Good heavens!" he said. + +"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" + +"Reggie, this is awful." + +"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." + +"That doesn't matter." + +"It does to him." + +He read the paper again. + +"It says they've a clue." + +"They always say that." + +"But--My hat!" + +"Eh?" + +"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman +Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" + +"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" + +He jumped a foot in the air. + +"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the +matter?" + +"The man!" + +"What man?" + +"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you +did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted +to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the +look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." + +"No!" + +"I feel it. I'm sure of it." + +"Had he a hat?" + +"Of course he had a hat." + +"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" + +"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must +get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your +life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lèse-majesté_. +It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to +waste." + +"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or +something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire +my uncle to meet me in----" + +"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" + +He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, +carrying a letter on a tray. + +"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A +letter has arrived for him." + +"He isn't here." + +"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" + +"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to +see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" + +"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." + +"Ah! That's all, Voules." + +"Thank you, sir." + +He retired. I called to George, and he came out. + +"Who was it?" + +"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast +still. The sleuth's eating kippers." + +"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his +letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. + +"Reggie, this is a queer thing." + +"What's that?" + +He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he +had grunted. This is how it ran: + + "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I + think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious + situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which + your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are + expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have + reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard + your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or + kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both + babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it + was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a + letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos + Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has + only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on + his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like + other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile + his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can + hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a + thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take + some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we + meet.--Your affectionate uncle, + + "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." + +I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I +do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I +have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. + +"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." + +"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this +chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, +though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have +to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, +failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently +there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected +offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." + +"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of +your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to +stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." + +He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. + +"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." + +"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of +twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't +Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you +up that you have a brother Alfred." + +"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." + +"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your +life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective +off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." + +At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. + +"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. + +"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll +swear George hadn't one." + +"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making +things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." + +"No, no." + +"You _are_." + +"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." + +And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. + +"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." + +I looked at George. George looked at me. + +"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us +away, would you, Voules?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You would?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by +it?" + +"Financially, sir, nothing." + +"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding +your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old +fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." + +"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you +think that you can buy my self-respect?" + +"Oh, come!" I said. + +"How much?" said Voules. + +So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. +You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted +to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. +By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred +when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it +up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed +his clothes. + +He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. + +"Did you meet him?" I asked. + +"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. + +"George's twin-brother Alfred." + +"I didn't know George had a brother." + +"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in +infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his +uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George +has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, +Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a +brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it +_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." + +And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. + +They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at +him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite +certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. + +"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. + +"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. + +"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. + +"No one could tell you apart," I said. + +"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came +to a question of identification, there would be one way of +distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" + +"He's a dear old pal of mine." + +"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" + +"Every day last August." + +"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this +on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped +and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it +often when we were bathing together. + +"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. + +"No," I said. "Oh, no." + +"You would have noticed it if he had?" + +"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." + +"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able +to prove one's own identity." + +That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It +seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think +George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had +breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he +hadn't a care in the world. + +Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the +foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the +rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. + +"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" + +"What did you tell me?" + +"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for +George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the +trouble was. And then----" + +"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you +after knowing you for about two hours." + +"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became +him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she +told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a +pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down +for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." + +"And it's all right?" + +"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that +infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." + +"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and +is waiting for you." + +"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. + +We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a +boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. + +"It's my uncle," said George. + +A stout man came up the gangway. + +"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" + +"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is +Alfred Lattaker." + +"What's that?" + +"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" + +The stout man stared at him. + +"You're very like George," he said. + +"So everyone tells me." + +"And you're really Alfred?" + +"I am." + +"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." + +He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. + +At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I +should be glad to have the afternoon off." + +I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a +trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. + +I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was +waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" + +I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up +about it, so I told her. + +"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." + +She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm +hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" +which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. + +"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings +and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." + +I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my +state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of +this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going +about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was +at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. + +I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the +facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the +trouble. + +Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. +There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind +had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a +fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. + +I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says +about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of +care? George's was like that. He looked green. + +"Finished with your uncle?" I said. + +He grinned a ghostly grin. + +"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there +isn't any money." + +"Explain yourself, old top," I said. + +"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the +trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When +the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he +went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last +remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while +and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he +invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner +or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, +which he has done. He's on his way now." + +"You let him go?" + +"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis +around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding +prison is to be Alfred." + +"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, +anyway," I said, to cheer him up. + +"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. +How can I marry her?" + +I pondered. + +"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit +of a mess." + +"You've guessed it," said poor old George. + +I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what +a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you +see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, +and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You +can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. +Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, +getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what +I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about +it. + +It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. +We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old +Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when +he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was +suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was +worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and +I, only not for the same reason. + +We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a +well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. + +"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Cöslin, equerry to His +Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the +Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." + +Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. + +"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You +remember?" + +"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I +suppose not?" + +"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" + +Stella shook hands with him. + +"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a +terrible thing to have happened!" + +"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained +consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." + +"That's good," said old Marshall. + +"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your +permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." + +"Mr. Who?" + +The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. + +"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." + +"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" + +"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his +services----" + +"I know. But what's he doing here?" + +"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." + +"Eh?" + +"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. + +"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like +now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." + +"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" + +George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. + +"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can +tell me by my mole." + +He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. + +The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. + +"I am sorry," he said. + +George didn't offer to console him, + +"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." + +"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." + +"What?" shouted George. + +"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, +saved my high-born master from the assassin." + +George sat down suddenly. + +"I don't understand," he said feebly. + +"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the +conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was +also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard +the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a +dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he +had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. +My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he +lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing +the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the +assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His +Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His +gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, +you should be proud of your brother, sir!" + +"Thanks," said George limply. + +"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search +the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." + +"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. + +It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his +head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. + +"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. + +He glared at George, who was staring at him. + +"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this +afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours +without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll +learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this +morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on +you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged +that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. +And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his +mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That +man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." + +George got up. + +"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." + +"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." + +"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had +rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only +remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the +conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." + +"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. + +"I am." + +"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. + +"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of +Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." + +"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the +girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's +chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. + +"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot +yourself." + +He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed +to think better of it and fell into the clinch. + +It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. + +"Voules, you're sacked," I said. + +"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman +of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get +your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." + +"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the +presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his +preserver." + +"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" + +There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a +smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and +Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. + +"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so +happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." + +"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that +way now." + +I coughed and he turned round. + +"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. + +"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." + +"Beautiful," said Stella. + +"The moon," I said. + +"Ripping," said George. + +"Lovely," said Stella. + +"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" + +George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. + +I popped. + + + + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + + +Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean +really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, +or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly +bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my +notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty +few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the +Yeardsley "Venus." + +To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I +shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and +myself. + +When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire +family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at +Oxford with me. + +I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was +a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just +as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture +catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played +"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month +later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence +Yeardsley, an artist. + +What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the +club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I +got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the +book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me +that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the +country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, +by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I +was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to +be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it +had done. + +This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue +sky, as it were. It ran like this: + + "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of + you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old + house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. + Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be + so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you + again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. + Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. + --Yours most sincerely, + + ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. + + "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! + + "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has + ever played on. + + "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says + it is better than St. Andrews. + + "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" + +Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a +head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite +easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. + +However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he +was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must +be something special. So I went. + +Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him +for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was +glad to see me. + +"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just +about at my last grip." + +"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. + +"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere +mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be +so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" + +"Pictures?" + +"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an +artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like +when one gives her her head?" + +I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my +time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the +period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had +had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though +pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had +never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after +marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere +sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to +old Bill. + +"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a +chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" + +"A few days." + +"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there +to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was +that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me +back with a lasso." + +I tried to point out the silver lining. + +"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links +near here." + +He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. + +"You don't mean honestly she said that?" + +"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." + +"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" + +"Well, wasn't it enough?" + +"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" + +"No, she forgot to tell me that." + +"It's the worst course in Great Britain." + +I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have +got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily +allowance of golf when I'm not in London. + +I took another whirl at the silver lining. + +"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's +good." + +"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch +cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended +it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve +the thing as a billiard-table." + +"But she said you said----" + +"Must have been pulling your leg." + +We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well +back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I +couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read +about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and +hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to +know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she +had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was +what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought +me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going +to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married +women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was +nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's +father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as +she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. + +"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot +of that sort stopping here, are there?" + +"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." + +As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure +appeared. + +"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind +struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady +Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. + +"Do you mean me?" I said. + +She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same +as in the old days. + +"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid +you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come +along in and have some tea." + + * * * * * + +Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and +then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt +when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you +hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." +Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have +preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on +Clarence. + +He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His +hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore +pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells +myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, +mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. +Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. + +"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said +Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. + +"Eh?" I said. + +"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" + +While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old +gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was +an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. +Elizabeth introduced us. + +"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel +positive I heard a cat mewing." + +"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." + +"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my +nerves!" + +"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. + +"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. + +That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think +they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to +pictures. + +We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At +least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of +picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and +then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I +was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a +valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the +first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with +any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the +pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. + +"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" + +They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. +Elizabeth grabbed the paper. + +"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of +Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" + +"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" + +"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I +noticed her eyes were sparkling. + +"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been +the 'Venus'!" + +Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. + +"The 'Venus'!" he cried. + +They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the +evening's chat had made quite a hit. + +Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth +showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley +"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed +impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing +it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the +foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I +was aware of its existence. + +She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley +was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were +rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry +effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when +Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent +towards me and said, "Reggie." + +And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You +know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it +then. + +"What-o?" I said nervously. + +"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." + +"Yes?" + +She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back +to me: + +"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the +world for me?" + +There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as +a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she +would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that +sort of thing, what? + +Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. +I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't +appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who +may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to +her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction +when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man +who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. + +I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." + +"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me +everlastingly grateful." + +"Yes," I said. + +"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago +Clarence was very fond of cats?" + +"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" + +"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." + +"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" + +"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants +to get rid of something." + +"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" + +"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. + +She looked up and caught my bulging eye. + +"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. + +"Not that I remember." + +"Well, come into the dining-room." + +We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. + +"There," she said. + +On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed +it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It +was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, +you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ +noticed it. + +"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. + +She nodded. + +"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to +a meal?" + +"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry +through all right." + +She jerked her head impatiently. + +"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." + +And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't +understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old +Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It +explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, +which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send +you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're +absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped +into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a +teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and +go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, +the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. + +And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. + +It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and +that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have +known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding +present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so +far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a +professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at +the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. +He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. +He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to +look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything +rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to +store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the +picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent +that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. + +"Now you see," she said. + +"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy +weather over a trifle?" + +"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in +church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next +to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" + +She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, +or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It +was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other +one. + +Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a +dash at it. + +"Er--'Venus'?" I said. + +Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the +evidence, I mean. + +"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see +you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. +When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have +been at your club." + +This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up +to me, and put her hand on my arm. + +"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you +understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let +us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit +and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after +day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that +with Clarence. Now you see?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" + +"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to +do?" + +"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" + +I looked at her. + +"You want me to----?" + +"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you +see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the +idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of +the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the +last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his +feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! +One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take +his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, +Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of +the frame, and it's done." + +"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, +but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in +fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" + +"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." + +"But if I'm caught?" + +"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of +the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." + +It sounded simple enough. + +"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" + +"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." + +"But----" + +She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. + +"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." + +She looked at me. + +"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, +don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow +me?" + +"All right," I said. "I'll do it." + +I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped +in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. +If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job +I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done +when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed +easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, +and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for +one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be +pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. +I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my +knife, and slunk downstairs. + +The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the +window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of +local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. +I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, +when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have +said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. +Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and +things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling +something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that +sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" + +I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill +kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. + +"What happened?" I said. + +"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I +came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a +chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I +just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think +you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" + +"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she +had told you." + +"You don't mean----" + +"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." + +"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about +repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I +hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to +do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after +all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm +sorry." + +"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was +still on. + +"Are you feeling better now?" + +"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." + +"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this +job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made +a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on +the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." + +"Heads." + +"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the +light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." + +It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and +the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old +Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, +collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. + +"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture +of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the +thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him +a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of +Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." + +We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our +drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and +shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness +of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good +by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days +when we used to brew in my study at school. + +We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and +gripped my arm. + +"I heard something," he said. + +I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over +the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy +footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. + +"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. + +There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively +chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would +have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't +really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and +believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, +a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one +jump. + +"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." + +I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the +knife. We crept downstairs. + +"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. + +"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" + +"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. + +Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. + +Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. +And then we pulled up sharp, staring. + +The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the +near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," +holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, +was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He +had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he +stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down +in a heap together. The candle went out. + +"What on earth?" said Bill. + +I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most +fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly +collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I +could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, +it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at +me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I +saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But +we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped +short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old +Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. + +"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. +It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down +to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" + +It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among +those present. + +"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. + +"He's in bed," I said. + +"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself +on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who +sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." + +He gave a gulp. + +"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you +understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two +years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It +was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then +Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You +cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The +thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the +picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. +And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I +could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from +a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never +suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals +who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. +I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down +here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this +time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," +he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" + +I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this +time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him +straight instead of breaking it by degrees. + +"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite +understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort +of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" + +I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, +staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling +at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. + +"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have +taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My +Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, +but he had to know the truth. + +"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." + +He started, poor old chap. + +"Eh? What do you mean?" + +"They _did_ take your Venus." + +"But I have it here." + +I shook my head. + +"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. + +He jumped at it and straightened it out. + +"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own +picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can +you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" + +And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! + + * * * * * + +Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled +down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was +my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's +fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected +to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive +silence for a bit. + +"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing +Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" + +"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." + +"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving +Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to +London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how +about it?" + + + + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + +Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time +during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought +that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of +being baffled. + +Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages +for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's +more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who +was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; +philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely +on him at every turn. + +So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't +hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. + +The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was +in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the +dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower +ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and +generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first +impression was that it was some horrid dream. + +Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from +New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once +that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. +Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a +walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He +was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of +his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He +told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and +wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. + +He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a +month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three +hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there +was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in +which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to +young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, +American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things +once. It began: + + Be! + Be! + The past is dead. + To-morrow is not born. + Be to-day! + To-day! + Be with every nerve, + With every muscle, + With every drop of your red blood! + Be! + +It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of +scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, +with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said +they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four +in the afternoon for over a month. + +As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he +had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had +been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his +position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the +money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem +recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all +its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the +mantelpiece. + +And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! + +"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or +something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" + +I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped +for the bell. + +Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me +how he does it. + +"Tea, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression +of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky +was surging round with his beastly letter again. + +"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" + +"Read it!" + +"I can't. I haven't had my tea." + +"Well, listen then." + +"Who's it from?" + +"My aunt." + +At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: + +"So what on earth am I to do?" + +Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering +over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. + +"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. +Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want +your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, +and Rocky started again: + + "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a + long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been + very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made + up my mind to do now." + +"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" + +"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes +cleared at a later point in the communication." + +"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. + +"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. + + "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see + for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I + fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I + am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." + +"Sad, Jeeves, what?" + +"Extremely, sir." + +"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last +Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself +that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist +that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a +fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's +been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." + +"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of +the deer,' Jeeves?" + +"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." + +"Carry on, Rocky, dear +boy." + + "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the + city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly + thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the + Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a + certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to + enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." + +"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do +in ten years." + + "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now + I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I + have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a + firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you + quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you + live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. + I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as + I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic + life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant + supper parties. + + "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me + letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all + you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may + enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying + for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no + detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, + + "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." + +"What about it?" said Rocky. + +"What about it?" I said. + +"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" + +It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude +of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the +right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind +it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here +the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar +plexus. It amazed me. + +"Aren't you bucked?" I said. + +"Bucked!" + +"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider +this pretty soft for you." + +He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to +talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer +chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, +and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an +hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty +straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the +place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a +publicity agent for the old metrop.! + +"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have +to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole +of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to +mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. +Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because +they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I +loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got +to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral +delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than +a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" + +I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in +for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of +the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. + +"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to +share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars +and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I +suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a +ghastly notion!" + +I was shocked, absolutely shocked. + +"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. + +"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" + +"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by +the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" + +"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" + +"Three." + +"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear +the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." + +"And shirts?" + +"Four dozen, sir." + +"And white ties?" + +"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely +filled with our white ties, sir." + +I turned to Rocky. + +"You see?" + +The chappie writhed like an electric fan. + +"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on +earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't +get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put +on an old sweater?" + +I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his +finest feelings. + +"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. + +"That's what I want to know." + +"You might write and explain to your aunt." + +"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid +leaps and cut me out of her will." + +I saw his point. + +"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. + +Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. + +"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is +obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his +possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters +relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be +accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of +remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party +to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes +reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful +report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his +imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." + +Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked +at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as +I have, and he isn't on to his curves. + +"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the +start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the +idea?" + +"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. +All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you +and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. +That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a +startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. + +"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart +sort of man, a man who would notice things." + +"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." + +"But would he?" + +"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" + +For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost +smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and +for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. + +"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have +already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening +out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." + +"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She +wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, +Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will +show you the way." + +Jeeves shook his head. + +"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The +place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." + +"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." + +It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans +happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of +the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything +went absolutely right from the start. + +Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, +and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. +I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table +on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a +fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so +nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he +was making notes in a small book. + +As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond +of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was +perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his +pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to +death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to +be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it +was full of life. + +But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck +anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, +loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired +feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: + + "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. + I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The + cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's + everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, + + "BERTIE. + + "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" + +Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't +have got the confounded thing on to the second page. + +Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: + + "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving + me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems + more wonderful every day. + + "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are + magnificent!" + +Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an +authority. + + "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other + night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new + place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie + Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie + Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks + did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was + there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The + show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. + + "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" + +And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic +temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie +who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a +punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's +no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in +and congratulated him. + +"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell +you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." + +"It's just a knack, sir." + +"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, +what?" + +"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. + +And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to +say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month +after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old +bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence +like a bomb. + +It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices +that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It +was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. + +"Miss Rockmetteller!" + +And in came a large, solid female. + +The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt +much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd +come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that +it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I +stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an +attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should +have been rallying round the young master, it was now. + +Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, +except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as +a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if +put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly +regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor +old Rocky had been pulling on her. + +"Good afternoon," I managed to say. + +"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" + +"Er--no." + +"Mr. Fred Stone?" + +"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie +Wooster." + +She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean +nothing in her life. + +"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" + +She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I +couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. + +There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the +respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak +without having been spoken to. + +"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party +in the afternoon." + +"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he +say when he would be back?" + +"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in +returning." + +He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer +her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It +made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended +to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, +has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails +to make my spine curl. + +"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of +Rockmetteller's?" + +"Oh, yes, rather!" + +She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. + +"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your +own!" + +I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the +power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing +host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, +mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered +my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously +looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come +to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. + +At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being +about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old +stand-by. + +"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. + +"Tea?" + +She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. + +"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit +of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you +know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." + +I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the +evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. + +"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" + +I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve +centres had had the deuce of a shock. + +"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put +that into her head?" + +Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. + +"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my +suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from +this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good +central residence in the city." + +I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. + +"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an +intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about +here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." + +"Yes, sir." + +"It's pretty rotten, you know." + +"Most disturbing, sir." + +"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got +to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the +tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come +up by the next train." + +"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message +and dispatching it by the lift attendant." + +"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" + +"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. +Thank you." + +I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still +bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a +hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There +was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I +suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. + +"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful +silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. + +"What is a surprise?" + +"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." + +She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. + +"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. + +Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. + +"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" + +Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad +to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for +one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool +about with I felt happier. + +"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. + +It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal +more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her +out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. + +"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me +to drink this stuff?" + +"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." + +"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" + +"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." + +"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" + +I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way +that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was +brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had +had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. + +Conversation languished again after that. + +Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you +can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, +especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. + +"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. + +"At which hotel?" + +"The hotel you're staying at." + +"I am not staying at an hotel." + +"Stopping with friends--what?" + +"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." + +I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. + +"What! Here?" I gurgled. + +"Certainly! Where else should I go?" + +The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't +see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't +Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because +she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in +the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock +and produce some results when she spoke again. + +"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I +wish to lie down." + +"Your nephew's man-servant?" + +"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile +ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish +to be alone with me when he returns." + +I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for +me. I crept into Jeeves's den. + +"Jeeves!" I whispered. + +"Sir?" + +"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." + +"Very good, sir." + +"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, +and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and +keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, +and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants +you to prepare her bed." + +He looked wounded. + +"It is hardly my place, sir----" + +"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to +that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and +have to go to an hotel, what?" + +"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for +clothes?" + +"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag +when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" + +"I will endeavour to do so, sir." + +"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd +where I am when he gets here." + +"Very good, sir." + +I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. +The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive +chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. + +"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +And I staggered out. + + * * * * * + +You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher +Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he +has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, +you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more +sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's +misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. + +As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white +tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole +squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to +look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural +phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, +there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own +clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the +morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I +mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful +privations the poor have to stick. + +I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. +Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't +make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what +somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. + +I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but +nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go +on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the +hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've +felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as +if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I +should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang +I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end +of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. + +It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. + +"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" + +"Where are you speaking from?" + +"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a +fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a +friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life +written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and +I'm nearly crazy." + +"Tell me all, old top," I said. + +"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the +river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of +thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was +just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when +about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There +are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder +than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram +arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of +absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two +miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top +of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. +And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of +yours." + +I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky +was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. + +"You'll ruin them!" + +"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles +seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to +get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're +about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. +I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't +breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out +and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by +now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure +Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I +dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could +I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even +to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She +keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's +simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting +two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to +think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me +into it." + +"Me! What do you mean?" + +"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested +leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that +did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me +about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where +she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of +New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled +herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some +miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! +It's got to end!" + +"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" + +"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of +help that is!" + +"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is +for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a +lot of money." + +"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" + +"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying +all the expenses now, isn't she?" + +"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the +lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no +necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's +simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've +examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver +lining it's some little dissembler!" + +"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what +I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get +back to the flat." + +"Don't come near the flat." + +"But it's my own flat." + +"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you +did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said +she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless +and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget +it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. +Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated +noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. + +"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your +personal belongings." + +He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. + +"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" + +"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is +a remarkably alert lady." + +"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" + +"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my +notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic +conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour +to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." + +"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." + +"We must hope for the best, sir." + +"Can't you think of anything to do?" + +"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far +without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the +light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." + +"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" + +"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the +tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case +and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." + +"You understate it, Jeeves." + +He gazed meditatively out of the window. + +"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine +who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are +much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great +city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever +the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and +spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has +broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable +her to gratify this desire." + +"I love to have these little chats with you about your female +relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me +down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got +to do with my trouble." + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on +the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I +should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." + +Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. + + * * * * * + +I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a +habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit +them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and +sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, +and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in +it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you +might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of +Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at +least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. +What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets +once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. + +New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up +just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks +began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at +Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except +the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the +ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to +see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled +for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for +myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under +the strain. + +It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took +it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to +surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless +spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I +had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the +impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York +night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a +cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the +shutters. + +The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that +I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on +the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort +of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the +chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without +disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the +proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had +helped a bit. + +For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his +aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in +again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were +something the management ought to be complained to about. + +"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, +"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good +turn if you asked me?" + +"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. + +"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest +of the evening." + +Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. + +"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" + +"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to +divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that +for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't +understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A +few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know +fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt +Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect +has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to +be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a +nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the +love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." + +I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was +sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had +lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore +Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about +rather unpleasant things. + +"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. + +"I have." + +There was something in her eye that seemed to say: + +"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" + +"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. + +And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, +bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and +then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this +wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light +of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had +gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged +home with ropes. + +It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. + +"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" + +I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't +anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with +the woman, so I went along. + +Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the +feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A +massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, +though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his +best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. + +I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his +lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something +told me that I was about to need him. + +The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the +decanter. + +"Say when, Bertie." + +"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. + +I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye +of one who sees it coming. + +"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it +there. + +"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see +a young man going to perdition!" + +Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the +whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. + +"Eh?" he said, blinking. + +The aunt proceeded. + +"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But +now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder +at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you +into contact with this wicked city." + +I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a +look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his +feelings. + +"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go +to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing +Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." + +"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. + +You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and +you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to +understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. +I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off +to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front +of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. + +The aunt gave me a withering up and down. + +"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp +having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing +men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would +have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. +He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque +phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I +first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How +often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! + +"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; +so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked +your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little +intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he +did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square +Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a +seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I +discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle +of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many +people, so I remained." + +She gulped. + +"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. +Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the +sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I +feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in +a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me +New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of +sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people +should be in bed. + +"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to +drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more +sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient +revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed +right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could +have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you +must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen +that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you +to dance in those places of wickedness?" + +Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. + +"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." + +"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is +not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. +You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find +that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour +and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, +Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the +struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" + +I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused +dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him +the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being +cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let +go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. + +"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" + +"Yes." + +"Not to live in the country?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller." + +"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New +York?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there +can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will +you--for my sake?" + +Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement +from that table. + +"I will!" he said. + + * * * * * + +"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying +in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just +come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour +before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was +the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like +home--what?" + +"Very true, sir." + +"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +I lit another cigarette. + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were +baffled." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? +It was pure genius!" + +"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I +was thinking of my aunt, sir." + +"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" + +"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks +coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always +found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her +mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might +prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." + +I was stunned by the man's resource. + +"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, +Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat +a lot of fish, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born +that way there's no use worrying." + +"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I +should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you +a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the +red domino pattern instead, sir." + +"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Wodehouse + +Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] +Release Date: May, 2005 +[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] +Last updated: August 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +MY MAN JEEVES + + + + +BY P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1919 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + +ABSENT TREATMENT + +HELPING FREDDIE + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + + +Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. +Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's +like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements +at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know +the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train +for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to +think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're +right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of +omniscience. + +As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond +Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I +felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address +of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the +hour. + +"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one +of Mr. Byng's." + +"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." + +"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." + +"Unsuitable for you, sir." + +Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came +home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I +nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a +music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in +absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and +that's all there is to it. + +But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, +though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows +everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." +I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, +red-hot tabasco. + +"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good +turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on +Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" + +He shook his head. + +"I'd rather not, sir." + +"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." + +"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second +place is what the stable is after." + +Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know +anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till +he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and +nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. + +"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. +From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." + +"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." + +And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean +would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, +don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with +Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, +when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to +ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. + +"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. + +I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my +cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square +way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I +left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to +stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got +the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound +scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and +having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out +to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm +bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody +was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going +on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced +me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before +I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses +up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly +around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy +coves. + +Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, +but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines +with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the +game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the +thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people +come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until +you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a +chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture +for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got +a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the +advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived +from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in +the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's +apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had +made quite an indecently large stack out of it. + +Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty +soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle +was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was +fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, +however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had +no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the +way the above Worple used to harry him. + +Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't +think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to +chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and +work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with +him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what +Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom +of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too +beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an +artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by +using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to +cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. + +He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple +was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the +American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. +When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he +just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start +being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was +what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called +_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More +American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that +he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds +gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let +him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked +with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so +these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the +time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the +frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when +broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. + +To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of +extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that +Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction +on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I +should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. + +So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl +in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancée, Miss +Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the +one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke +were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" + +The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking +anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but +can't think what the deuce to do with the body. + +"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you +might suggest a way of breaking it to him." + +Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a +way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were +the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it +yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me +as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man +isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of +feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, +little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was +nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those +innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your +system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out +to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to +tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, +you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and +dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I +felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. + +"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said +to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." + +Corky declined to cheer up. + +"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. +That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of +principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had +gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he +would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." + +I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. + +"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance +without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" + +"But how can I work it that way?" + +I saw his point. That was the catch. + +"There's only one thing to do," I said. + +"What's that?" + +"Leave it to Jeeves." + +And I rang the bell. + +"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy +things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very +seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies +in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in +a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they +want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he +says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite +bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh +of animals slain in anger and pie. + +The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful +attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost +child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him +that gave me confidence. + +Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye +gleams with the light of pure intelligence. + +"Jeeves, we want your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. + +"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way +by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting +on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, try to think of something." + +"I have thought of something already, sir." + +"You have!" + +"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may +seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial +outlay." + +"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an +idea, but it's going to cost a bit." + +Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the +whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting +gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. + +"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only +too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." + +"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's +attachment to ornithology." + +"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" + +"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite +unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the +flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. +Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I +have mentioned." + +"Oh! Well?" + +"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let +us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it +to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, +sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to +eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the +same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy +to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in +which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one +to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired +result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." + +I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage +when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had +betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me +down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to +hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's +brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. + +"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +The girl made an objection. + +"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even +write good letters." + +"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the +direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of +our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will +receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose +your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both +feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency +to kick like a steer." + +I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family +when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the +recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and +the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it +is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but +uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, +legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. + +But Jeeves had a solution, of course. + +"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious +author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for +a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should +appear on the title page." + +"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred +dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand +words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different +names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. +I'll get after him right away." + +"Fine!" + +"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent +fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number +now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while +a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real +work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the +old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny +book came along. + +I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The +Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was +there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang +at the door and the parcel was delivered. + +It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some +species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened +a copy at random. + +"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as +you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, +carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are +older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful +book--_American Birds_." + +You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later +there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed +cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap +who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. +I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the +world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a +certain disposition towards chumminess in him. + +"It's a cert!" I said. + +"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. + +And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to +tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so +dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. +Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author +of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would +be delighted to make her acquaintance. + +Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had +invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for +several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been +wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out +right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop +into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel +inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by +herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out +telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. + +"Well, well, well, what?" I said. + +"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" + +"Corky around?" + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" + +"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." + +It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a +kind of thingummy, you know. + +"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" + +"A row?" + +"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both +sides--er--and all that sort of thing." + +"Why, whatever makes you think that?" + +"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually +dined with him before you went to the theatre." + +"I've left the stage now." + +Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time +I had been away. + +"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" + +"Yes." + +"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." + +"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is +a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." + +I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of +healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he +looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. + +"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of +Bruce's, Alexander." + +The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from +hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. + +"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you +would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this +playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I +noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be +introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. +Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the +pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you +dined?" + +I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I +wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. + +When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I +called him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid +of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of +news for you." + +He came back with a tray and a long glass. + +"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." + +"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." + +"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You +remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by +writing the book on birds?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." + +He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. + +"That was always a development to be feared, sir." + +"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" + +"It crossed my mind as a possibility." + +"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" + +"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." + +Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer +frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to +it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a +cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the +same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky +again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of +soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few +months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was +beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather +up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the +healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on +it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple +had presented her husband with a son and heir. + +I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to +touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled +over. Absolutely. It was the limit. + +I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to +Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and +then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the +touch. I gave it him in waves. + +But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it +was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this +just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I +pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his +bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I +bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the +studio. + +I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting +away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle +age, holding a baby. + +A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. + +"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. + +Corky looked over his shoulder. + +"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will +be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby +and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. + +"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." + +Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and +began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for +granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as +awkward as it might have been. + +"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The +portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes +the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. +If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted +with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a +portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in +and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it +rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into +the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit +me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't +refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my +allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I +suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a +patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted +him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front +page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are +moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist +Beans Baby With Axe.'" + +I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was +too deep for words. + +I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't +seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm +bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally +of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. + +But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. + +"Bertie." + +"Halloa?" + +"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" + +"Nothing special." + +"You couldn't come down here, could you?" + +"What's the trouble? Anything up?" + +"I've finished the portrait." + +"Good boy! Stout work!" + +"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it +doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's +coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but +I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" + +I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The +sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. + +"You think he'll cut up rough?" + +"He may." + +I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the +restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too +easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. + +"I'll come," I said. + +"Good!" + +"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" + +"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves +is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" + +"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of +yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a +den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." + +"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang +for Jeeves, and explained the situation. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. + +We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up +in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. + +"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, +tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" + +The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good +look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I +went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite +so bad from there. + +"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. + +I hesitated a bit. + +"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a +moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I +remember rightly?" + +"As ugly as that?" + +I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. + +"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." + +Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort +of way. He groaned. + +"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned +thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked +that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of +the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put +the child's soul on canvas." + +"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how +he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" + +"I doubt it, sir." + +"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" + +"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. + +"I don't see how one could help noticing." + +"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. +But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." + +"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in +the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't +you think so, Jeeves?" + +"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." + +Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle +came in. + +For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy +shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't +think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his +stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't +notice him. + +"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really +finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a +wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" + +And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he +rocked back on his heels. + +"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the +scaliest silences I've ever run up against. + +"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about +sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. + +I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. + +"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. + +"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far +away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on +Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk +of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and +my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a +house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a +competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured +supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail +and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this +foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for +idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report +at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and +start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you +should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another +cent--not another--Boosh!" + +Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out +of the bombproof shelter. + +"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. + +Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was +a hunted look in his eye. + +"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You +heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." + +I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about +the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It +was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just +been sentenced to twenty years in quod. + +And then a soothing voice broke the silence. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" + +It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at +the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the +shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by +saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves +was there. + +"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby +Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? +He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite +saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him +use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which +he promoted." + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" + +"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects +a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he +did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of +Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. +It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a +billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial +fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage +for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks +into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always +a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In +the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a +coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable +one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a +likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly +consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. +Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been +for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold +and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly +popular." + +Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking +noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. + +And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. + +"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor +blighter was hysterical. + +He began to stagger about all over the floor. + +"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! +You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on +Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I +feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the +_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the +other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me +anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. +Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded +hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" + +Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal +muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to +smiling. + +"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the +series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" + +Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. +Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. + +"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished +looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an +optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with +Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest +before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the +swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for +instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the +eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the +neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" + +"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, +sir. Extremely diverting." + +"They have made a big hit, you know." + +"I anticipated it, sir." + +I leaned back against the pillows. + +"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a +commission on these things." + +"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has +been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." + +"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"But I rather fancy myself in it." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"Oh, all right, have it your own way." + +"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is +always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? + + + + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's +Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that +it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and +more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up +behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. +It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy +matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned +up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. + +It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from +under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of +fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had +asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you +know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming +a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much +mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's +judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when +he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like +a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in +the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who +was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but +the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John +Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by +another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after +a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how +things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of +manly and independent. + +Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for +breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and +sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and +opened the door an inch. + +"What ho without there!" + +"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. + +"Eh?" + +"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." + +"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for +I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well +there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be +when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" + +"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean +liner at an early hour this morning." + +This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had +arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at +some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a +foreign shore considerably before eight. + +"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" + +"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." + +"Is she alone?" + +"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his +lordship would be her ladyship's son." + +"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." + +"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." + +"Then lead me to it." + +While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern +could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and +was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. + +"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left +London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on +social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." + +"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" + +"Eh?" + +"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" + +It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather +a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work +the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. + +"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. +Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" + +"Too ornate, sir." + +"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." + +"Unsuitable, sir." + +"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" + +"Very good, sir." + +Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was +firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into +the sitting-room. + +"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" + +"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I +think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." + +Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed +female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet +from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as +if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing +arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging +eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about +fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb +a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and +had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say +how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would +wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. + +Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. +He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered +down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't +bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the +struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any +eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. + +"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a +long stay in America?" + +"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure +and call on you." + +I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to +come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, +when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie +from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you +that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only +married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, +you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I +simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find +that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to +make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked +America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my +natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone +to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I +braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the +assemblage. + +"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be +of assistance to us." + +"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" + +"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little +while." + +I didn't get this for a moment. + +"Put him up? For my clubs?" + +"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty +darling?" + +Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. + +"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. + +"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have +him to live with you while I am away." + +These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply +didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave +Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling +the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on +me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't +you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board +at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle +into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, +rolling placidly over me, as it were. + +There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. + +"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to +Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in +America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, +visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I +am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, +_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write +a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend +more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, +but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my +dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ +after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with +me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall +have to pick him up on my return." + +From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the +breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I +felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of +putting a stop to this woman. + +"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. +Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear +Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the +country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He +will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as +if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped +chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. +"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give +him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you +so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your +help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before +my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my +information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and +take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. +Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." + +They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. + +"Jeeves! What about it?" + +"Sir?" + +"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the +dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." + +"Pill, sir?" + +"The excrescence." + +"I beg your pardon, sir?" + +I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was +as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I +understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to +get his own back. + +"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said +coldly. + +"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." + +I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any +sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a +moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he +didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I +was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! + +But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a +pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the +more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty +out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt +Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or +later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to +get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a +stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the +fellow up and make the best of it. + +About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel +of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw +it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough +in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more +cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, +and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch +with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with +excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, +the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost +forgotten blighted Motty's existence. + +I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't +till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of +Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. + +It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still +there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after +seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. + +Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the +chappie's manner that he was still upset. + +"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and +what-not. + +"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." + +"Not returned? What do you mean?" + +"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, +went out again." + +At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of +scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the +woodwork. Then a sort of thud. + +"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He went out and came back again. + +"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able +to carry him in." + +"Carry him in?" + +"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." + +I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up +outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. + +"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. +"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" + +"Sir?" + +"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or +something. Call up a doctor!" + +"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his +lordship's legs, while I----" + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" + +"I am inclined to think so, sir." + +And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't +mistake it. Motty was under the surface. + +It was the deuce of a shock. + +"You never can tell, Jeeves!" + +"Very seldom, sir." + +"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" + +"It would seem so, sir." + +"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette +and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It +seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. + +Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went +into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a +wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading +Gingery stories. + +"What ho!" I said. + +"What ho!" said Motty. + +"What ho! What ho!" + +"What ho! What ho! What ho!" + +After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. + +"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. + +"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, +that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most +frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy +dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own +invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one +of the ones!" + +I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and +sucked his stick the day before. + +"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I +said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. +But he wouldn't have it, at any price. + +"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too +much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm +going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see +me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on +the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the +defect." + +"But I say, you know, what about me?" + +"What about you?" + +"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I +mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in +the soup somewhat." + +"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old +thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to +yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great +city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so +bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my +eyes open and collect impressions." + +I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. + +"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if +my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But +duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean +to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with +life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" + +Put like that, it did seem reasonable. + +"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in +the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've +been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The +only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught +sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about +it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up +a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only +chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old +sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent +chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to +discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" + + * * * * * + +I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close +to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a +damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was +being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye +he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him +along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful +sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand +the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I +mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I +think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled +eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing +are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all +over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when +you want to sit still and digest. + +Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made +up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about +with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once +when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had +to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ +for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie +peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. + +In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about +four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over +about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. +I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no +denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of +Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded +Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of +the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to +get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and +sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and +putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber +next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose +weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest +word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. + +And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man +was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't +rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the +pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. + +"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" + +"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. + +"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the +principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha +is!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well, then." + +I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. + +"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping +with this blighter?" + +"No, sir." + +And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, +don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that +Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much +admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he +left me flat. + +It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing +pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. +This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of +town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. +I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the +evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who +frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. +That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The +neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian +dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere +wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a +collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song +when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked +peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was +extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of +soothing. + +The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place +which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty +there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch +on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared +hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an +extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped +backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall +just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" + +"That would be Rollo, sir." + +"Eh?" + +"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come +in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet +settled down." + +"Who the deuce is Rollo?" + +"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, +and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will +go in and switch on the light." + +There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the +sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without +a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such +that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down +as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his +paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have +been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all +worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me +where he had left off. + +"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally +quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." + +"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, what am I to do?" + +"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will +learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." + +"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I +intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that +one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all +right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and +stop with Mr. Todd in the country." + +"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" + +"No." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." + +"Yes, sir." + + * * * * * + +As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I +went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the +wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing +goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a +few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New +York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. +The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't +get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you +have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I +thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they +have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I +went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked +round cautiously for Rollo. + +"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" + +"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the +porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal +on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." + +I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had +misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a +lot of intelligence in him. + +"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you expect him back to dinner?" + +"No, sir." + +"Where is he?" + +"In prison, sir." + +Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? +That's how I felt then. + +"In prison!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You don't mean--in prison?" + +"Yes, sir." + +I lowered myself into a chair. + +"Why?" I said. + +"He assaulted a constable, sir." + +"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" + +"Yes, sir." + +I digested this. + +"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" + +"Sir?" + +"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" + +"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." + +"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." + +"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out +by then." + +"But supposing it hasn't?" + +"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." + +"How?" + +"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that +his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." + +"Why Boston?" + +"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." + +"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." + +"I fancy so, sir." + +"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this +hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a +sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." + +"Exactly, sir." + +The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze +seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what +the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have +pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I +reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a +small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick +at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. +Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. +Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that +I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty +existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was +still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, +but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was +tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There +was a kind of grieved look in his eye. + +And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't +been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping +along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea +and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement +that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few +garments round me and went in. + +There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as +ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she +had done the first time. + +"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" + +"I have got back." + +There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had +swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she +probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that +I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a +fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've +engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. + +"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" + +"I have not yet breakfasted." + +"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or +something?" + +"No, thank you." + +She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for +the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. + +"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." + +"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" + +"Extremely, thank you." + +"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old +Grand Canyon, and what-not?" + +"I saw a great deal." + +There was another slightly _frappé_ silence. Jeeves floated +silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. + +"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" + +I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. + +"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." + +"You were his constant companion, then?" + +"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you +know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of +lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred +concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually +played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing +sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to +Boston." + +"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" + +"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where +you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, +don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. +Yes, Motty went off to Boston." + +"You're sure he went to Boston?" + +"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in +the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't +change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" + +"No, sir." + +"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." + +"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went +yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material +for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, +seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" + +I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has +to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like +this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar +and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, +because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my +system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling +it up, and now it came out with a rush: + +"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! +So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, +thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to +you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to +the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" + +I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of +Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the +hatchet against my return. + +"You deliberately----" + +Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: + +"If I might explain, your ladyship." + +Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized +on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't +do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. + +"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and +that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when +his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that +his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had +given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a +friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till +your ladyship informed him." + +Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. + +"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is +so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, +so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away +for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that +his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, +but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." + +"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore +went to prison voluntarily?" + +"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's +parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently +heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow +your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's +book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his +lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was +doing so little to help." + +"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. + +"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of +the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one +night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." + +Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I +could see her struggling with the thing. + +"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose +that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own +volition than that he committed some breach of the law which +necessitated his arrest?" + +Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. + +"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I +should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his +pure, fine spirit." + +"Absolutely!" I said. + +"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. + +I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. + +"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that +blighter into riotous living." + +"I fancy you are right, sir." + +I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, +by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that +this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I +hesitated. Then I made up my mind. + +"Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"That pink tie!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Burn it!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, Jeeves!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" + +"Thank you very much, sir." + +I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and +all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the +novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and +decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other +things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would +like?" + +"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." + +"Fifty dollars?" + +"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his +lordship." + +"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" + +"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship +was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable +method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship +was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me +for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering +him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the +eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." + +I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. + +"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, +you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" + +"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. + + + + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + + +Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup +of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting +out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do +if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad +now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There +used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak +him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered +him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's +got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to +look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry +eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! + +The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot +it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. + +I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. +And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself +on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances +knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, +of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. + +It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to +the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink +he said: + +"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were +out." + +"Oh?" I said. + +"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." + +"What, pipped?" + +"He gave that impression, sir." + +I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a +matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss +freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained +between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on +anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You +see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this +had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, +and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval +till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while +there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is +absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was +getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my +costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the +time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my +pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim +on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old +bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. + +"He said that he would call again later, sir." + +"Something must be up, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a +good deal, so I chucked it. + +"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on +the _Carmantic_." + +"Yes?" + +"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." + +This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one +knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species +of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my +arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I +rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in +fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so +we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort +in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and +what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily +gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though +we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him +was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the +strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. + +"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? +Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who +married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." + +Jeeves knows everything. + +"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Leave any money?" + +"No, sir." + +I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the +rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I +mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but +the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy +old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was +notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American +chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left +him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old +duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was +hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. +He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on +principle. + +At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky +came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. + +"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. +Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the +trouble, Bicky?" + +"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." + +"Say on, old lad!" + +"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +Bicky seemed a bit surprised. + +"Jeeves seems to know everything." + +"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." + +"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out +of the hole I'm in." + +Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the +table. + +"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you +to rally round." + +"Very good, sir." + +Bicky looked a bit doubtful. + +"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit +private and all that." + +"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it +already. Don't you, Jeeves?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. + +"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact +that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York +instead of in Colorado?" + +Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. + +"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" + +"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He +informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on +the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." + +Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. + +"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try +to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I +was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a +remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of +the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they +call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't +fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, +and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the +scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that +remittance." + +"I get you absolutely, dear boy." + +"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, +so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I +cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business +wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back +that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm +doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you +know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" + +"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was +coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always +given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I +can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." + +"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. + +"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you +prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" + +"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." + +"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. +Bickersteth----" + +"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, +and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast +that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of +course." + +"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this +flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was +the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I +was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be +residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would +occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this +answer satisfactorily, sir." + +Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed +sort of way. + +"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace +on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. +Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. +Will that meet the situation, sir?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. + +"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it +is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you +ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the +back!" + + * * * * * + +I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present +when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean +liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much +after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was +leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. +It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish +he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in +general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down +below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out +and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could +make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York +to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of +London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy +said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and +the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. + +"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"That'll be him at the door now." + +Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy +crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. + +"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of +sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must +have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of +Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. +Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." + +Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. + +"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" + +"Absolutely." + +"It must be terribly expensive." + +"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." + +He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at +it to restore his tissues, and nodded. + +"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight +shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look +round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how +much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" + +"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." + +"What! Forty pounds a month!" + +I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the +scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was +thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew +of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, +for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as +an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most +pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. + +"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York +often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you +wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. +Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, +when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite +different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in +commercial circles as quite the nib!" + +"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" + +"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and +Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. +"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads +elsewhere." + +Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. + +"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" + +"He's upstairs now, having some tea." + +"What does he think of it all?" + +"He's absolutely rattled." + +"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See +you later." + +"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." + +He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the +club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and +going down the other. + +It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for +dinner. + +"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering +about the place. "Gone out?" + +"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. +Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective +was Grant's Tomb." + +"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are +going--what?" + +"Sir?" + +"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." + +"Not altogether, sir." + +"What's his trouble now?" + +"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth +and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, +sir." + +"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in +business, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. +Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth +is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary +assistance." + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." + +"Somewhat disturbing, sir." + +"I never expected anything like this!" + +"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." + +"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." + +My heart bled for Bicky. + +"We must do something, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can you think of anything?" + +"Not at the moment, sir." + +"There must be something we can do." + +"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I +mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there +is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the +occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his +title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting +failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another +name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have +generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No +doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's +difficulty, sir." + +"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" + +"I will spare no pains, sir." + +I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was +when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a +dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time +than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill +of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. + +When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, +hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette +hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare +in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the +newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." + +"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. + +He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact +that it hadn't anything in it. + +"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. + +He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. + +"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money +was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been +reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can +make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars +and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a +hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every +day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep +of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every +seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. +Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have +more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep +in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd +make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get +quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair +at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no +good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." + +"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." + +"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." + +That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend +money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it +to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift +the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled +tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the +second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along +Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my +neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've +simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a +hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight +and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his +uppers, not taking any at any price. + +"Well, there's only one hope, then." + +"What's that?" + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of +shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting +in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you +look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little +uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. +He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves +now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my +tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" + +"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have +found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a +liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's +potentialities as a source of revenue." + +Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, +mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, +rather like a gargle. + +"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of +inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of +regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say +so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." + +Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't +get it myself. + +"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" + +"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a +prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you +are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent +personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might +know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two +dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including +handshake, to his grace." + +Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. + +"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid +cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" + +"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for +bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave +her social standing among the neighbours." + +Bicky wavered. + +"If you think it could be done----" + +"I feel convinced of it, sir." + +"What do you think, Bertie?" + +"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." + +"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." + +And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. + +Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making +proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock +Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays +I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market +opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened +quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest +the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the +week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper +down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in +sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of +light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money +down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, +owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to +kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me +the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things +take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as +a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. + +The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it +hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of +his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever +met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room +one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was +something doing. + +"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" + +"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." + +"Sir?" + +"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." + +"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." + +"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" + +"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." + +I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. + +"Birdsburg?" + +"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." + +"How did you get them?" + +"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be +absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into +conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. +I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his +buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for +Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a +gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the +auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to +inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming +a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if +Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was +purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at +some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. +It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and +pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had +shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to +broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I +have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention +shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." + +I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. + +"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" + +"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms +finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." + +I thought a bit. + +"Payable in advance?" + +"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not +successful." + +"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. +Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect +anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" + +"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not +bright." + +"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some +money." + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Right-o!" + +"Very good, sir." + +When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told +him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the +sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic +section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. + +"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? +I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you +know." + +The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. + +"There will be no reporters among them?" + +"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" + +"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive +young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while +the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this +persecution again." + +"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man +in the place." + +"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your +friends." + +"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" + +"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules +of civilized intercourse." + +Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, +where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. + +After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg +contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal +round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very +decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn +it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We +settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, +each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the +duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up +Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted +with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the +Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out +some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we +thanked him. + +Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the +cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every +respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth +up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and +what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of +apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be +brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. + +"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. + +The old boy seemed a bit rattled. + +"I have never been to Birdsburg." + +The chappie seemed pained. + +"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in +the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" + +"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. + +The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. + +"Say!" + +He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins +and a cold eye. + +The assemblage looked at him. + +"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not +questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict +business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on +record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." + +"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. + +"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but +there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here +says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're +the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read +English novels, and I know all about it." + +"This is monstrous!" + +"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to +know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should +see that we get our money's worth." + +The water-supply cove chipped in: + +"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the +agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to +reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here +a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want +to know----" + +Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the +water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. + +"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite +politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." + +"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens +of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands +with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my +friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. +Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are +the Duke of Chiswick at all." + +Old Chiswick gulped. + +"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that +I am the Duke of Chiswick." + +"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we +wanted to know. Let the thing go on." + +"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am +feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." + +"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at +this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." + +"I fear I must disappoint them." + +"But in that case the deal would have to be off." + +"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." + +The chappie seemed troubled. + +"You really won't meet the rest of them?" + +"No!" + +"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." + +They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick +turned to Bicky: + +"Well?" + +Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. + +"Was it true what that man said?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"What do you mean by playing this trick?" + +Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. + +"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." + +Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: + +"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of +money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if +you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every +day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five +cents. + +"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" + +"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a +substantial business man." + +"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. +"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance +of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly +in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the +ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." + +Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. + +"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your +financial status!" + +"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He +doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot +stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think +it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" + +"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a +penny!" + +"But----" + +"Not a penny!" + +There was a respectful cough in the background. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" + +Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. + +"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. + +"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a +little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might +secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this +afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and +enterprising newspapers." + +"By Jove!" I said. + +"By George!" said Bicky. + +"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. + +"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. +They eat that sort of stuff." + +Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. + +"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" + +"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't +get the money any other way----" + +"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange +something." + +"I won't go to that bally ranch." + +"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a +moment suggest it. I--I think----" + +He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, +on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I +might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to +utilize your services in some secretarial position." + +"I shouldn't mind that." + +"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in +English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" + +"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred +quid a year, paid quarterly." + +"My dear boy!" + +"Absolutely!" + +"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled +opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to +accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, +you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." + +"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, +that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. +It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens +has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen +chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's +a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. +Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till +they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a +future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" + +A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be +resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. + +"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." + +"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to +celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"It beats me how you do it." + +"Yes, sir." + +"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" + +"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify +his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to +assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position +to do so." + +"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. + +"Bring my shaving things." + +A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. + +"You mean, sir?" + +"And shave off my moustache." + +There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. + +"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped +off. + + + + +ABSENT TREATMENT + + +I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most +interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but +I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. +If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; +and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a +girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. + +If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be +surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for +the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who +have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised +when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. + +In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most +pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called +me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it +came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap +was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him +a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him +a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before +the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to +see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. +By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town +before my messenger arrived. + +The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. +Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, +once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that +stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. + +At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't +occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; +that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup +chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still +doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like +that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, +as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out +things. + +She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave +about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her +living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life +there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a +girl who works for her living. + +Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she +had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those +determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself +up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and +rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't +been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to +the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. + +Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he +introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my +name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. +My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He +left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but +I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a +girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being +an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat +for years. + +Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come +to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the +greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she +thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about +her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie +didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being +quite happy. + +Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't +really start till then. + +They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite +a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be +running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I +thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There +were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. + +But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here +that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. + +I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back +to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting +myself under police protection, I went. + +When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell +you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and +crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And +she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to +describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this +was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were +dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked +domesticity. + +"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have +a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it +up now--what?" + +She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned +scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little +laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree +about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. + +"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at +me. + +And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She +talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on +the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly +little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of +thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was +working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and +that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and +everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've +sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the +rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and +got away. + +Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie +at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely +gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. + +He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to +about it. + +"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. + +I didn't exactly. + +"About a year, isn't it?" + +"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" + +Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. + +"Yesterday was----?" + +"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the +Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. +I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through +dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd +forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" + +"Till your wife mentioned it?" + +He nodded---- + +"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. + +I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be +angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, +they aren't half-hearted about it. + +"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken +sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." + +There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat +there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the +window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and +watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then +walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an +instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a +certain stratum of sense. + + * * * * * + +It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem +of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in +one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; +but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the +average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable +mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently +through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a +chump of the first water. + +And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And +Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like +dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork +disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him +against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. +Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might +cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I +had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my +life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I +forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. + +For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet +little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read +somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to +Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big +enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. +Pretty soon he was back at the old game. + +It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was +frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew +it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married +one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's +married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to +do it now, before he began to drift away. + +I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he +was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't +remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was +something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a +book. + +"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she +knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about +everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." + +He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a +couple of sovereigns. + +"Oh, by the way," he said. + +"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. + +"I owe it you." + +"How's that?" I said. + +"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were +playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, +and Murray beat him by twenty odd." + +"So you do remember some things?" I said. + +He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter +who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after +knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. + +"Subside, laddie," I said. + +Then I spoke to him like a father. + +"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull +yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're +due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to +make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, +even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've +got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included +in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." + +"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks +such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot +what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the +cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a +memorizing freak at the halls." + +"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear +that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be +trouble." + +He chewed the knob of his stick. + +"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. + +"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. + + * * * * * + +I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing +in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, +and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But +no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. +I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to +anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. +If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the +only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After +that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. +But I thought a lot about him. + +Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, +and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a +kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had +been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that +he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the +thorax. + +I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out +over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and +down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed +Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, +waving a piece of paper in his hand. + +"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" + +"Gone!" I said. "Who?" + +"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" + +"Where?" I said. + +Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly +foamed at the mouth. + +"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." + +He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. + +"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." + +So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, +but it was all to the point. This is what it said: + + "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me + to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will + come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." + +I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" + +"Why don't I what?" + +"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to +ask." + +"But she says on her birthday." + +"Well, when is her birthday?" + +"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." + +"Forgotten!" I said. + +"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." + +"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the +twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" + +"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the +thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." + +"Think." + +"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've +been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." + +"And you can't remember?" + +"No." + +I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. + +"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an +untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes +and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's +birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know +enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his +deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself +out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For +instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What +sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." + +Bobbie shook his head. + +"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." + +"Warm?" + +"Warmish." + +"Or cold?" + +"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." + +I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young +Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An +invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without +which no home is complete." + +Bobbie seemed to be thinking. + +"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on +her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the +date when it was bought, and the thing's done." + +"Absolutely. What did you give her?" + +He sagged. + +"I can't remember," he said. + +Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's +as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever +had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did +it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the +undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a +brain-wave. + +Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? +There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, +your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. +Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we +found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the +month, and narrow it down a whole lot. + +A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied +out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. +As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we +saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, +but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly +hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December +people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." +Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite +extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born +with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed +up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful +memories"--Mary's speciality. + +We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. + +Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that +month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a +happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women +"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and +expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was +about as like Mary as anything could be. + +In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went +home. + +It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old +Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It +represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the +middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that +is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had +a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think +in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his +brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow +human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was +all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these +brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all +over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would +only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the +idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. + +I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he +came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I +never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. + +One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see +that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. + +"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I +shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went +together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" + +"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" + +"Why, they change the programme every week there." + +"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." + +"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's +Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing +it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this +minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out +of them, if I have to use a crowbar." + +So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like +brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the +pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. + +"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me +another time." + +"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." + +And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. + +Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. +I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It +was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. + +"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. +We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have +been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." + +"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." + +I heard him give a sort of howl. + +"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. + +"Well?" + +"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the +Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to +bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." + +"But I'm always writing cheques." + +"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up +your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the +Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." + +He gave a kind of gulp. + +"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe +you've got it. Hold the line." + +Presently he came back again. + +"Halloa!" he said. + +"I'm here," I said. + +"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" + +"Topping," I said. "Good night." + +It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as +well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel +near the Strand. + +"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. + +"It's late," said the man at the other end. + +"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." + +I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had +frozen hard, but I was past regrets. + +"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. + +"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that +particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." + +"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" + +"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." + +She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must +be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't +you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about +my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. + +"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" + +"No." + +Well, I hadn't. + +"Mr. Pepper." + +"Yes?" + +"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" + +I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the +party. + +"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. +He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has +started out to worry after breakfast, and----" + +Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should +pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the +wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, +don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she +bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in +that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it +means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. + +And then she began. + +"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and +see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from +you would have put everything right, I can't----" + +"But----" + +"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most +unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a +kind-hearted man." + +"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" + +"I thought it hateful, abominable." + +"But you said it was absolutely top----" + +"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't +wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to +be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to +separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by +gloating over his agony----" + +"But----!" + +"When one single word would have----" + +"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. + +"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to +break your promise?" + +I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the +receiver, and crawled into bed. + + * * * * * + +I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit +the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing +invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes +went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And +as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself +together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I +am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: +"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every +minute." + + + + +HELPING FREDDIE + + +I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but +I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at +literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give +the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all +right. + +Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for +years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him +sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and +generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I +was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and +soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of +thing. + +Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes +plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to +question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the +matter was. + +As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with +Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the +engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently +she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused +to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. + +I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once +in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact +that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my +autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. + +"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to +Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the +twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." + +"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I +knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl +wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; +suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never +answered at all." + +But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had +swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to +Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. + +Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a +fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day +there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll +out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on +the wounds and go to bed. + +It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze +sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a +rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round +waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers +the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. + +Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I +began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: +for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write +home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the +carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one +finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't +play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would +blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. + +He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. + +"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." + +"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" + +"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the +doorway. She cut me!" + +He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. + +"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go +away." + +"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that +could have happened. This is where you come out strong." + +"She cut me." + +"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." + +"She looked clean through me!" + +"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. +I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her +under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly +thanking you. What you want----" + +"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" + +I thought for a moment. + +"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. + +"I can't swim," said Freddie. + +That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a +thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. + +He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. + +I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. +There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear +old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in +happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a +backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a +man of enterprise. + +Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring +like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it +was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs +of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. +She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. +On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the +girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced +that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had +been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about +the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't +think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one +of those round, bulging kids. + +After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and +began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling +sweets at a stall. And I walked on. + +Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I +don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been +chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least +expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. +I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a +single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. + +It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, +when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. +The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in +sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought +the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of +the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was +her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young +heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully +anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly +appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the +effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and +practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make +her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid +and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of +reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by +George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. + +Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine +points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him +down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if +you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and +poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. + +"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? +What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" + +The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I +raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right +stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the +stuff. + +"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. +After a while it began to strike him. + +"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said +handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." + +And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to +scour the beach for Angela. + +I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie +that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again +made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was +leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down +the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still +with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. + +"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" + +"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow +laughs. + +"Well, then----?" + +Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. + +"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. + +"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the +beach. She had never seen him before in her life." + +"What! Who is he, then?" + +"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll +probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for +kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you +through the bars." + +"Tell me all, old boy," I said. + +It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the +middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered +gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he +told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually +call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of +way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping +stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had +crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. + +"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it +at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find +the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." + + * * * * * + +By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal +kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to +restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how +kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, +but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from +the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself +in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought +to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, +and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. + +I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody +answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody +came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way +that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I +wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from +somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" + +I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and +west of it, staring down from an upper window. + +"Hi!" it shouted again. + +"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. + +"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" + +"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you +Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." + +"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" + +The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face +reappeared. + +"Hi!" + +I churned the gravel madly. + +"Do you live here?" said the face. + +"I'm staying here for a few weeks." + +"What's your name?" + +"Pepper. But----" + +"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" + +"My uncle. But----" + +"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him +now." + +"I wish you were," I said. + +He beamed down at me. + +"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to +do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles +has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of +infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most +fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate +to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any +nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take +Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written +to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few +days." + +"May!" + +"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a +week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. +Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." + +"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a +bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to +escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. + +I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. + +The window flew up again. + +"Hi!" + +A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a +bomb. + +"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed +it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's +Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a +little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." + +My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. +Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat +from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. + +As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. + +The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at +her and said, "Wah!" + +The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. + +"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you +again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this +morning," she said to me. + +This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered +lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded +good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my +breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. + +I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out +what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more +manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his +head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he +began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, +dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such +expressions. + +"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, +why don't you say something?" + +"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can we do about it?" + +"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." + +He got up. + +"I'm going back to London," he said. + +"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you +desert a pal at a time like this?" + +"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." + +"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize +that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You +wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we +were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." + +He sat down again. + +"Oh, well," he said resignedly. + +"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you +know?" + +He looked at me in a curious way. + +"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good +deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." + +Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that +crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the +local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically +incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty +satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having +undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there +were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. + +Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew +what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere +matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I +stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which +might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like +nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. + +But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next +bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their +nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid +dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered +wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat +down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver +lining there had been to the cloud up to date. + +"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a +child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and +domestic--what!" + +Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he +had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a +much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, +the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. + +Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the +kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his +portmanteau. + +"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of +thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little +treasure?" + +I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. + +"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad +situation for act two of a farce." + +"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. + +"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll +rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." + +As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid +down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. + +"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the +old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping +child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. +Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the +piano?" + +"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." + +Jimmy shook his head. + +"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. +Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit +of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up +to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' +Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses +L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big +speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very +well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes +us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just +giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the +child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We +want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and +has the punch." + +"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, +that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts +Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." + +Jimmy frowned. + +"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set +instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, +when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First +rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." + +Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not +to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't +in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we +concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw +that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing +was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. + +"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first +rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his +line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two +words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got +a success." + +I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be +one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning +intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as +exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the +kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd +go all to pieces again. And time was flying. + +"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day +now and take him away." + +"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. +We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes +who would have learned the part quicker." + +I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't +discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash +at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was +after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have +been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first +opportunity, but Jimmy said no. + +"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said +'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might +do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." + +But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. + +It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie +had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the +house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along +came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual +yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. + +"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come +up?" + +She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that +sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the +kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the +sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At +any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the +veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. + +I tried to break up the scene. + +"We were just going down to the beach," I said. + +"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your +piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for +ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when +he's finished here?" + +"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be +disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell +him later." + +"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine +Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he +will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." + +"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. + +She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in +her pocket for something. + +"The beach," I babbled. + +"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't +you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of +toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. + +That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid +was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. + +And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for +all the world as if he had been taking a cue. + +He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the +ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" + +The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy +Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards +it. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. + +"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. + +"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on +till you do." + +She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still +stood there gaping, without a word. + +"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her +eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a +fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. +Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and +see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. +It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as +if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up +and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. + +"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. + +I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. +Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief +remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the +while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. + +And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. + +And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She +leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while +Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. + +Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it +seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in +my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a +word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. +What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? + +Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. + +"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? +We must have a big rehearsal to-day." + +"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor +dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." + +"Tell me," said Jimmy. + +I told him. + +"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's +always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things +look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now +a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" + +"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" + +In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow +from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite +projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the +road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, +about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as +if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped +in each other's arms. + + * * * * * + +Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his +business had certainly gone with a bang! + + + + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + + +I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the +course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, +was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, +don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. + +We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an +old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, +my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's +maid Pilbeam and George. + +George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him +into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who +was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to +hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he +had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was +a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a +sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a +chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and +had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it +struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at +Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix +up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George +had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were +anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. + + * * * * * + +Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the +thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from +a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my +state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed +and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, +which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly +recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd +expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently +relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my +midst at that hour was too much for me. + +"Voules!" I yelled. + +Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing +in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with +that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay +him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of +emotion in him. + +"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be +Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just +seven." + +"I understood you to summon me, sir." + +"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise +outside." + +"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment +I raised my voice." + +"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" + +"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." + +"What was all the trouble about?" + +"I was breaking our engagement, sir." + +I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with +engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his +secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. + +"I think I'll get up," I said. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right +away?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was +a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all +the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. +Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit +pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for +it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? + +"Seen George?" I asked. + +I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was +queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly +close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and +slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; +she loves muh!" + +"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. + +I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that +a.m. + +The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when +the morning papers arrived. + +Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. + +"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. + +"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. + +"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." + +Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was +full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness +the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these +chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on +his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed +the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking +advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable +vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible +in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his +yacht, where he still lay unconscious. + +"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for +slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" + +"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His +Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent +private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the +police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important +clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in +Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." + +About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move +off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man +came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old +Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. + +"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on +board--Mr. George Lattaker?" + +"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I +say?" + +"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on +somewhat urgent business." + +"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him +up." + +I went down to George's state-room. + +"George, old man!" I shouted. + +No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's +more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more +surprised. I went on deck. + +"He isn't there," I said. + +"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone +for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better +wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" + +The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped +down, leaving me alone on deck. + +I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought +I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked +over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in +evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old +George. + +"Great Scot!" I cried. + +"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" + +"They're all down at breakfast." + +He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I +regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. + +"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. + +He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. + +"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How +do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about +touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of +my body this morning, Reggie!" + +"Yes, old boy?" + +"I did a murder last night." + +"What?" + +"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella +Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" + +"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" + +"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I +proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was +just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming +along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's +maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, +Reggie?" + +"Never. I've been refused dozens----" + +"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I +hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest +thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It +wasn't. It was Pilbeam." + +"You kissed her?" + +"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened +and out came Stella." + +"Great Scott!" + +"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, +not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It +did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed +off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to +forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned +my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can +recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street +and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all +I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my +hat." + +I dived for the paper. + +"Read," I said. "It's all there." + +He read. + +"Good heavens!" he said. + +"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" + +"Reggie, this is awful." + +"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." + +"That doesn't matter." + +"It does to him." + +He read the paper again. + +"It says they've a clue." + +"They always say that." + +"But--My hat!" + +"Eh?" + +"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman +Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" + +"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" + +He jumped a foot in the air. + +"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the +matter?" + +"The man!" + +"What man?" + +"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you +did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted +to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the +look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." + +"No!" + +"I feel it. I'm sure of it." + +"Had he a hat?" + +"Of course he had a hat." + +"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" + +"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must +get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your +life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lèse-majesté_. +It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to +waste." + +"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or +something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire +my uncle to meet me in----" + +"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" + +He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, +carrying a letter on a tray. + +"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A +letter has arrived for him." + +"He isn't here." + +"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" + +"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to +see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" + +"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." + +"Ah! That's all, Voules." + +"Thank you, sir." + +He retired. I called to George, and he came out. + +"Who was it?" + +"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast +still. The sleuth's eating kippers." + +"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his +letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. + +"Reggie, this is a queer thing." + +"What's that?" + +He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he +had grunted. This is how it ran: + + "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I + think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious + situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which + your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are + expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have + reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard + your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or + kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both + babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it + was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a + letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos + Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has + only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on + his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like + other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile + his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can + hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a + thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take + some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we + meet.--Your affectionate uncle, + + "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." + +I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I +do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I +have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. + +"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." + +"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this +chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, +though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have +to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, +failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently +there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected +offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." + +"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of +your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to +stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." + +He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. + +"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." + +"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of +twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't +Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you +up that you have a brother Alfred." + +"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." + +"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your +life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective +off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." + +At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. + +"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. + +"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll +swear George hadn't one." + +"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making +things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." + +"No, no." + +"You _are_." + +"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." + +And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. + +"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." + +I looked at George. George looked at me. + +"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us +away, would you, Voules?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You would?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by +it?" + +"Financially, sir, nothing." + +"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding +your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old +fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." + +"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you +think that you can buy my self-respect?" + +"Oh, come!" I said. + +"How much?" said Voules. + +So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. +You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted +to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. +By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred +when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it +up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed +his clothes. + +He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. + +"Did you meet him?" I asked. + +"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. + +"George's twin-brother Alfred." + +"I didn't know George had a brother." + +"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in +infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his +uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George +has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, +Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a +brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it +_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." + +And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. + +They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at +him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite +certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. + +"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. + +"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. + +"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. + +"No one could tell you apart," I said. + +"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came +to a question of identification, there would be one way of +distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" + +"He's a dear old pal of mine." + +"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" + +"Every day last August." + +"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this +on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped +and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it +often when we were bathing together. + +"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. + +"No," I said. "Oh, no." + +"You would have noticed it if he had?" + +"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." + +"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able +to prove one's own identity." + +That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It +seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think +George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had +breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he +hadn't a care in the world. + +Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the +foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the +rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. + +"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" + +"What did you tell me?" + +"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for +George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the +trouble was. And then----" + +"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you +after knowing you for about two hours." + +"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became +him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she +told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a +pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down +for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." + +"And it's all right?" + +"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that +infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." + +"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and +is waiting for you." + +"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. + +We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a +boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. + +"It's my uncle," said George. + +A stout man came up the gangway. + +"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" + +"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is +Alfred Lattaker." + +"What's that?" + +"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" + +The stout man stared at him. + +"You're very like George," he said. + +"So everyone tells me." + +"And you're really Alfred?" + +"I am." + +"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." + +He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. + +At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I +should be glad to have the afternoon off." + +I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a +trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. + +I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was +waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" + +I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up +about it, so I told her. + +"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." + +She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm +hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" +which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. + +"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings +and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." + +I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my +state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of +this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going +about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was +at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. + +I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the +facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the +trouble. + +Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. +There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind +had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a +fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. + +I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says +about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of +care? George's was like that. He looked green. + +"Finished with your uncle?" I said. + +He grinned a ghostly grin. + +"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there +isn't any money." + +"Explain yourself, old top," I said. + +"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the +trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When +the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he +went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last +remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while +and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he +invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner +or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, +which he has done. He's on his way now." + +"You let him go?" + +"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis +around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding +prison is to be Alfred." + +"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, +anyway," I said, to cheer him up. + +"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. +How can I marry her?" + +I pondered. + +"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit +of a mess." + +"You've guessed it," said poor old George. + +I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what +a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you +see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, +and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You +can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. +Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, +getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what +I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about +it. + +It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. +We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old +Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when +he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was +suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was +worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and +I, only not for the same reason. + +We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a +well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. + +"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Cöslin, equerry to His +Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the +Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." + +Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. + +"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You +remember?" + +"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I +suppose not?" + +"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" + +Stella shook hands with him. + +"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a +terrible thing to have happened!" + +"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained +consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." + +"That's good," said old Marshall. + +"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your +permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." + +"Mr. Who?" + +The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. + +"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." + +"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" + +"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his +services----" + +"I know. But what's he doing here?" + +"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." + +"Eh?" + +"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. + +"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like +now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." + +"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" + +George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. + +"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can +tell me by my mole." + +He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. + +The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. + +"I am sorry," he said. + +George didn't offer to console him, + +"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." + +"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." + +"What?" shouted George. + +"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, +saved my high-born master from the assassin." + +George sat down suddenly. + +"I don't understand," he said feebly. + +"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the +conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was +also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard +the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a +dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he +had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. +My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he +lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing +the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the +assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His +Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His +gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, +you should be proud of your brother, sir!" + +"Thanks," said George limply. + +"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search +the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." + +"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. + +It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his +head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. + +"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. + +He glared at George, who was staring at him. + +"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this +afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours +without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll +learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this +morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on +you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged +that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. +And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his +mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That +man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." + +George got up. + +"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." + +"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." + +"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had +rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only +remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the +conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." + +"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. + +"I am." + +"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. + +"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of +Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." + +"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the +girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's +chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. + +"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot +yourself." + +He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed +to think better of it and fell into the clinch. + +It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. + +"Voules, you're sacked," I said. + +"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman +of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get +your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." + +"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the +presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his +preserver." + +"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" + +There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a +smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and +Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. + +"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so +happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." + +"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that +way now." + +I coughed and he turned round. + +"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. + +"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." + +"Beautiful," said Stella. + +"The moon," I said. + +"Ripping," said George. + +"Lovely," said Stella. + +"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" + +George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. + +I popped. + + + + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + + +Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean +really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, +or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly +bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my +notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty +few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the +Yeardsley "Venus." + +To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I +shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and +myself. + +When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire +family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at +Oxford with me. + +I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was +a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just +as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture +catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played +"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month +later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence +Yeardsley, an artist. + +What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the +club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I +got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the +book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me +that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the +country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, +by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I +was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to +be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it +had done. + +This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue +sky, as it were. It ran like this: + + "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of + you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old + house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. + Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be + so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you + again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. + Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. + --Yours most sincerely, + + ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. + + "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! + + "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has + ever played on. + + "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says + it is better than St. Andrews. + + "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" + +Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a +head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite +easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. + +However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he +was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must +be something special. So I went. + +Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him +for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was +glad to see me. + +"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just +about at my last grip." + +"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. + +"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere +mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be +so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" + +"Pictures?" + +"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an +artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like +when one gives her her head?" + +I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my +time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the +period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had +had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though +pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had +never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after +marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere +sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to +old Bill. + +"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a +chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" + +"A few days." + +"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there +to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was +that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me +back with a lasso." + +I tried to point out the silver lining. + +"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links +near here." + +He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. + +"You don't mean honestly she said that?" + +"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." + +"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" + +"Well, wasn't it enough?" + +"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" + +"No, she forgot to tell me that." + +"It's the worst course in Great Britain." + +I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have +got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily +allowance of golf when I'm not in London. + +I took another whirl at the silver lining. + +"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's +good." + +"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch +cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended +it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve +the thing as a billiard-table." + +"But she said you said----" + +"Must have been pulling your leg." + +We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well +back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I +couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read +about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and +hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to +know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she +had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was +what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought +me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going +to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married +women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was +nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's +father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as +she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. + +"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot +of that sort stopping here, are there?" + +"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." + +As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure +appeared. + +"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind +struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady +Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. + +"Do you mean me?" I said. + +She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same +as in the old days. + +"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid +you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come +along in and have some tea." + + * * * * * + +Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and +then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt +when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you +hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." +Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have +preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on +Clarence. + +He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His +hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore +pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells +myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, +mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. +Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. + +"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said +Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. + +"Eh?" I said. + +"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" + +While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old +gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was +an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. +Elizabeth introduced us. + +"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel +positive I heard a cat mewing." + +"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." + +"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my +nerves!" + +"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. + +"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. + +That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think +they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to +pictures. + +We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At +least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of +picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and +then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I +was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a +valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the +first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with +any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the +pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. + +"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" + +They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. +Elizabeth grabbed the paper. + +"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of +Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" + +"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" + +"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I +noticed her eyes were sparkling. + +"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been +the 'Venus'!" + +Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. + +"The 'Venus'!" he cried. + +They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the +evening's chat had made quite a hit. + +Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth +showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley +"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed +impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing +it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the +foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I +was aware of its existence. + +She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley +was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were +rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry +effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when +Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent +towards me and said, "Reggie." + +And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You +know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it +then. + +"What-o?" I said nervously. + +"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." + +"Yes?" + +She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back +to me: + +"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the +world for me?" + +There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as +a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she +would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that +sort of thing, what? + +Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. +I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't +appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who +may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to +her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction +when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man +who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. + +I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." + +"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me +everlastingly grateful." + +"Yes," I said. + +"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago +Clarence was very fond of cats?" + +"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" + +"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." + +"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" + +"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants +to get rid of something." + +"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" + +"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. + +She looked up and caught my bulging eye. + +"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. + +"Not that I remember." + +"Well, come into the dining-room." + +We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. + +"There," she said. + +On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed +it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It +was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, +you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ +noticed it. + +"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. + +She nodded. + +"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to +a meal?" + +"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry +through all right." + +She jerked her head impatiently. + +"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." + +And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't +understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old +Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It +explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, +which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send +you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're +absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped +into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a +teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and +go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, +the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. + +And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. + +It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and +that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have +known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding +present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so +far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a +professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at +the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. +He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. +He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to +look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything +rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to +store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the +picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent +that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. + +"Now you see," she said. + +"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy +weather over a trifle?" + +"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in +church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next +to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" + +She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, +or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It +was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other +one. + +Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a +dash at it. + +"Er--'Venus'?" I said. + +Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the +evidence, I mean. + +"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see +you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. +When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have +been at your club." + +This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up +to me, and put her hand on my arm. + +"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you +understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let +us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit +and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after +day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that +with Clarence. Now you see?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" + +"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to +do?" + +"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" + +I looked at her. + +"You want me to----?" + +"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you +see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the +idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of +the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the +last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his +feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! +One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take +his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, +Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of +the frame, and it's done." + +"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, +but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in +fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" + +"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." + +"But if I'm caught?" + +"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of +the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." + +It sounded simple enough. + +"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" + +"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." + +"But----" + +She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. + +"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." + +She looked at me. + +"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, +don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow +me?" + +"All right," I said. "I'll do it." + +I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped +in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. +If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job +I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done +when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed +easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, +and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for +one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be +pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. +I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my +knife, and slunk downstairs. + +The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the +window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of +local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. +I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, +when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have +said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. +Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and +things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling +something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that +sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" + +I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill +kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. + +"What happened?" I said. + +"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I +came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a +chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I +just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think +you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" + +"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she +had told you." + +"You don't mean----" + +"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." + +"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about +repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I +hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to +do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after +all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm +sorry." + +"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was +still on. + +"Are you feeling better now?" + +"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." + +"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this +job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made +a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on +the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." + +"Heads." + +"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the +light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." + +It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and +the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old +Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, +collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. + +"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture +of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the +thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him +a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of +Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." + +We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our +drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and +shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness +of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good +by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days +when we used to brew in my study at school. + +We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and +gripped my arm. + +"I heard something," he said. + +I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over +the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy +footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. + +"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. + +There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively +chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would +have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't +really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and +believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, +a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one +jump. + +"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." + +I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the +knife. We crept downstairs. + +"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. + +"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" + +"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. + +Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. + +Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. +And then we pulled up sharp, staring. + +The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the +near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," +holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, +was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He +had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he +stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down +in a heap together. The candle went out. + +"What on earth?" said Bill. + +I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most +fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly +collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I +could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, +it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at +me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I +saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But +we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped +short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old +Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. + +"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. +It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down +to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" + +It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among +those present. + +"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. + +"He's in bed," I said. + +"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself +on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who +sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." + +He gave a gulp. + +"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you +understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two +years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It +was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then +Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You +cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The +thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the +picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. +And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I +could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from +a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never +suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals +who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. +I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down +here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this +time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," +he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" + +I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this +time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him +straight instead of breaking it by degrees. + +"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite +understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort +of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" + +I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, +staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling +at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. + +"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have +taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My +Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, +but he had to know the truth. + +"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." + +He started, poor old chap. + +"Eh? What do you mean?" + +"They _did_ take your Venus." + +"But I have it here." + +I shook my head. + +"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. + +He jumped at it and straightened it out. + +"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own +picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can +you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" + +And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! + + * * * * * + +Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled +down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was +my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's +fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected +to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive +silence for a bit. + +"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing +Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" + +"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." + +"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving +Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to +London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how +about it?" + + + + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + +Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time +during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought +that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of +being baffled. + +Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages +for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's +more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who +was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; +philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely +on him at every turn. + +So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't +hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. + +The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was +in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the +dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower +ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and +generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first +impression was that it was some horrid dream. + +Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from +New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once +that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. +Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a +walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He +was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of +his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He +told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and +wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. + +He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a +month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three +hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there +was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in +which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to +young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, +American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things +once. It began: + + Be! + Be! + The past is dead. + To-morrow is not born. + Be to-day! + To-day! + Be with every nerve, + With every muscle, + With every drop of your red blood! + Be! + +It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of +scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, +with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said +they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four +in the afternoon for over a month. + +As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he +had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had +been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his +position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the +money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem +recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all +its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the +mantelpiece. + +And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! + +"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or +something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" + +I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped +for the bell. + +Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me +how he does it. + +"Tea, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression +of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky +was surging round with his beastly letter again. + +"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" + +"Read it!" + +"I can't. I haven't had my tea." + +"Well, listen then." + +"Who's it from?" + +"My aunt." + +At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: + +"So what on earth am I to do?" + +Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering +over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. + +"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. +Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want +your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, +and Rocky started again: + + "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a + long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been + very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made + up my mind to do now." + +"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" + +"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes +cleared at a later point in the communication." + +"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. + +"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. + + "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see + for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I + fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I + am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." + +"Sad, Jeeves, what?" + +"Extremely, sir." + +"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last +Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself +that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist +that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a +fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's +been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." + +"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of +the deer,' Jeeves?" + +"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." + +"Carry on, Rocky, dear +boy." + + "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the + city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly + thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the + Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a + certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to + enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." + +"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do +in ten years." + + "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now + I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I + have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a + firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you + quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you + live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. + I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as + I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic + life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant + supper parties. + + "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me + letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all + you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may + enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying + for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no + detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, + + "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." + +"What about it?" said Rocky. + +"What about it?" I said. + +"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" + +It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude +of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the +right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind +it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here +the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar +plexus. It amazed me. + +"Aren't you bucked?" I said. + +"Bucked!" + +"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider +this pretty soft for you." + +He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to +talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer +chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, +and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an +hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty +straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the +place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a +publicity agent for the old metrop.! + +"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have +to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole +of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to +mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. +Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because +they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I +loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got +to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral +delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than +a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" + +I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in +for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of +the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. + +"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to +share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars +and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I +suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a +ghastly notion!" + +I was shocked, absolutely shocked. + +"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. + +"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" + +"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by +the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" + +"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" + +"Three." + +"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear +the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." + +"And shirts?" + +"Four dozen, sir." + +"And white ties?" + +"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely +filled with our white ties, sir." + +I turned to Rocky. + +"You see?" + +The chappie writhed like an electric fan. + +"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on +earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't +get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put +on an old sweater?" + +I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his +finest feelings. + +"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. + +"That's what I want to know." + +"You might write and explain to your aunt." + +"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid +leaps and cut me out of her will." + +I saw his point. + +"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. + +Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. + +"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is +obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his +possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters +relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be +accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of +remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party +to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes +reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful +report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his +imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." + +Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked +at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as +I have, and he isn't on to his curves. + +"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the +start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the +idea?" + +"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. +All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you +and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. +That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a +startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. + +"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart +sort of man, a man who would notice things." + +"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." + +"But would he?" + +"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" + +For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost +smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and +for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. + +"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have +already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening +out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." + +"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She +wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, +Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will +show you the way." + +Jeeves shook his head. + +"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The +place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." + +"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." + +It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans +happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of +the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything +went absolutely right from the start. + +Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, +and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. +I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table +on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a +fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so +nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he +was making notes in a small book. + +As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond +of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was +perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his +pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to +death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to +be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it +was full of life. + +But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck +anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, +loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired +feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: + + "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. + I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The + cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's + everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, + + "BERTIE. + + "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" + +Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't +have got the confounded thing on to the second page. + +Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: + + "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving + me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems + more wonderful every day. + + "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are + magnificent!" + +Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an +authority. + + "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other + night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new + place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie + Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie + Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks + did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was + there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The + show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. + + "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" + +And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic +temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie +who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a +punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's +no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in +and congratulated him. + +"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell +you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." + +"It's just a knack, sir." + +"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, +what?" + +"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. + +And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to +say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month +after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old +bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence +like a bomb. + +It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices +that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It +was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. + +"Miss Rockmetteller!" + +And in came a large, solid female. + +The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt +much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd +come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that +it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I +stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an +attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should +have been rallying round the young master, it was now. + +Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, +except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as +a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if +put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly +regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor +old Rocky had been pulling on her. + +"Good afternoon," I managed to say. + +"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" + +"Er--no." + +"Mr. Fred Stone?" + +"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie +Wooster." + +She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean +nothing in her life. + +"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" + +She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I +couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. + +There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the +respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak +without having been spoken to. + +"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party +in the afternoon." + +"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he +say when he would be back?" + +"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in +returning." + +He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer +her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It +made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended +to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, +has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails +to make my spine curl. + +"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of +Rockmetteller's?" + +"Oh, yes, rather!" + +She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. + +"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your +own!" + +I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the +power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing +host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, +mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered +my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously +looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come +to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. + +At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being +about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old +stand-by. + +"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. + +"Tea?" + +She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. + +"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit +of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you +know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." + +I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the +evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. + +"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" + +I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve +centres had had the deuce of a shock. + +"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put +that into her head?" + +Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. + +"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my +suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from +this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good +central residence in the city." + +I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. + +"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an +intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about +here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." + +"Yes, sir." + +"It's pretty rotten, you know." + +"Most disturbing, sir." + +"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got +to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the +tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come +up by the next train." + +"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message +and dispatching it by the lift attendant." + +"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" + +"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. +Thank you." + +I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still +bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a +hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There +was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I +suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. + +"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful +silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. + +"What is a surprise?" + +"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." + +She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. + +"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. + +Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. + +"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" + +Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad +to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for +one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool +about with I felt happier. + +"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. + +It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal +more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her +out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. + +"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me +to drink this stuff?" + +"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." + +"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" + +"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." + +"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" + +I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way +that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was +brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had +had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. + +Conversation languished again after that. + +Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you +can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, +especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. + +"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. + +"At which hotel?" + +"The hotel you're staying at." + +"I am not staying at an hotel." + +"Stopping with friends--what?" + +"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." + +I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. + +"What! Here?" I gurgled. + +"Certainly! Where else should I go?" + +The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't +see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't +Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because +she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in +the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock +and produce some results when she spoke again. + +"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I +wish to lie down." + +"Your nephew's man-servant?" + +"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile +ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish +to be alone with me when he returns." + +I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for +me. I crept into Jeeves's den. + +"Jeeves!" I whispered. + +"Sir?" + +"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." + +"Very good, sir." + +"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, +and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and +keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, +and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants +you to prepare her bed." + +He looked wounded. + +"It is hardly my place, sir----" + +"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to +that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and +have to go to an hotel, what?" + +"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for +clothes?" + +"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag +when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" + +"I will endeavour to do so, sir." + +"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd +where I am when he gets here." + +"Very good, sir." + +I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. +The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive +chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. + +"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +And I staggered out. + + * * * * * + +You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher +Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he +has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, +you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more +sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's +misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. + +As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white +tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole +squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to +look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural +phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, +there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own +clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the +morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I +mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful +privations the poor have to stick. + +I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. +Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't +make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what +somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. + +I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but +nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go +on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the +hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've +felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as +if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I +should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang +I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end +of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. + +It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. + +"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" + +"Where are you speaking from?" + +"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a +fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a +friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life +written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and +I'm nearly crazy." + +"Tell me all, old top," I said. + +"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the +river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of +thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was +just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when +about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There +are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder +than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram +arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of +absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two +miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top +of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. +And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of +yours." + +I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky +was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. + +"You'll ruin them!" + +"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles +seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to +get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're +about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. +I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't +breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out +and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by +now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure +Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I +dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could +I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even +to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She +keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's +simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting +two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to +think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me +into it." + +"Me! What do you mean?" + +"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested +leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that +did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me +about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where +she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of +New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled +herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some +miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! +It's got to end!" + +"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" + +"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of +help that is!" + +"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is +for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a +lot of money." + +"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" + +"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying +all the expenses now, isn't she?" + +"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the +lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no +necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's +simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've +examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver +lining it's some little dissembler!" + +"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what +I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get +back to the flat." + +"Don't come near the flat." + +"But it's my own flat." + +"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you +did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said +she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless +and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget +it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. +Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated +noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. + +"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your +personal belongings." + +He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. + +"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" + +"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is +a remarkably alert lady." + +"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" + +"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my +notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic +conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour +to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." + +"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." + +"We must hope for the best, sir." + +"Can't you think of anything to do?" + +"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far +without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the +light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." + +"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" + +"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the +tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case +and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." + +"You understate it, Jeeves." + +He gazed meditatively out of the window. + +"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine +who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are +much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great +city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever +the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and +spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has +broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable +her to gratify this desire." + +"I love to have these little chats with you about your female +relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me +down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got +to do with my trouble." + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on +the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I +should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." + +Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. + + * * * * * + +I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a +habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit +them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and +sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, +and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in +it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you +might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of +Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at +least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. +What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets +once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. + +New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up +just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks +began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at +Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except +the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the +ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to +see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled +for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for +myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under +the strain. + +It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took +it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to +surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless +spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I +had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the +impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York +night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a +cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the +shutters. + +The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that +I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on +the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort +of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the +chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without +disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the +proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had +helped a bit. + +For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his +aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in +again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were +something the management ought to be complained to about. + +"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, +"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good +turn if you asked me?" + +"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. + +"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest +of the evening." + +Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. + +"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" + +"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to +divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that +for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't +understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A +few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know +fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt +Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect +has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to +be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a +nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the +love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." + +I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was +sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had +lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore +Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about +rather unpleasant things. + +"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. + +"I have." + +There was something in her eye that seemed to say: + +"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" + +"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. + +And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, +bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and +then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this +wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light +of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had +gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged +home with ropes. + +It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. + +"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" + +I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't +anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with +the woman, so I went along. + +Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the +feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A +massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, +though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his +best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. + +I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his +lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something +told me that I was about to need him. + +The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the +decanter. + +"Say when, Bertie." + +"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. + +I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye +of one who sees it coming. + +"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it +there. + +"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see +a young man going to perdition!" + +Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the +whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. + +"Eh?" he said, blinking. + +The aunt proceeded. + +"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But +now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder +at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you +into contact with this wicked city." + +I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a +look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his +feelings. + +"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go +to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing +Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." + +"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. + +You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and +you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to +understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. +I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off +to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front +of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. + +The aunt gave me a withering up and down. + +"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp +having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing +men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would +have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. +He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque +phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I +first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How +often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! + +"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; +so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked +your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little +intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he +did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square +Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a +seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I +discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle +of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many +people, so I remained." + +She gulped. + +"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. +Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the +sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I +feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in +a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me +New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of +sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people +should be in bed. + +"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to +drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more +sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient +revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed +right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could +have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you +must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen +that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you +to dance in those places of wickedness?" + +Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. + +"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." + +"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is +not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. +You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find +that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour +and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, +Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the +struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" + +I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused +dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him +the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being +cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let +go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. + +"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" + +"Yes." + +"Not to live in the country?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller." + +"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New +York?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there +can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will +you--for my sake?" + +Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement +from that table. + +"I will!" he said. + + * * * * * + +"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying +in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just +come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour +before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was +the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like +home--what?" + +"Very true, sir." + +"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +I lit another cigarette. + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were +baffled." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? +It was pure genius!" + +"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I +was thinking of my aunt, sir." + +"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" + +"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks +coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always +found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her +mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might +prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." + +I was stunned by the man's resource. + +"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, +Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat +a lot of fish, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born +that way there's no use worrying." + +"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I +should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you +a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the +red domino pattern instead, sir." + +"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/8164-8.zip b/old/8164-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..77a57bf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8164-8.zip diff --git a/old/8164-8.zip~ b/old/8164-8.zip~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..77a57bf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8164-8.zip~ diff --git a/old/8164.txt b/old/8164.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2135c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8164.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7297 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: My Man Jeeves + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] +Release Date: May, 2005 +[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] +Last Updated: August 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +MY MAN JEEVES + + + + +BY P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1919 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + +ABSENT TREATMENT + +HELPING FREDDIE + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + + +Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. +Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's +like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements +at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know +the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train +for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to +think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're +right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of +omniscience. + +As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond +Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I +felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address +of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the +hour. + +"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one +of Mr. Byng's." + +"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." + +"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." + +"Unsuitable for you, sir." + +Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came +home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I +nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a +music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in +absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and +that's all there is to it. + +But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, +though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows +everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." +I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, +red-hot tabasco. + +"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good +turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on +Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" + +He shook his head. + +"I'd rather not, sir." + +"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." + +"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second +place is what the stable is after." + +Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know +anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till +he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and +nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. + +"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. +From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." + +"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." + +And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean +would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, +don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with +Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, +when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to +ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. + +"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. + +I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my +cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square +way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I +left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to +stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got +the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound +scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and +having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out +to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm +bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody +was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going +on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced +me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before +I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses +up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly +around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy +coves. + +Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, +but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines +with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the +game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the +thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people +come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until +you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a +chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture +for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got +a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the +advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived +from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in +the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's +apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had +made quite an indecently large stack out of it. + +Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty +soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle +was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was +fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, +however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had +no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the +way the above Worple used to harry him. + +Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't +think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to +chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and +work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with +him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what +Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom +of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too +beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an +artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by +using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to +cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. + +He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple +was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the +American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. +When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he +just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start +being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was +what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called +_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More +American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that +he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds +gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let +him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked +with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so +these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the +time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the +frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when +broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. + +To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of +extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that +Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction +on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I +should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. + +So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl +in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancee, Miss +Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the +one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke +were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" + +The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking +anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but +can't think what the deuce to do with the body. + +"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you +might suggest a way of breaking it to him." + +Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a +way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were +the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it +yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me +as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man +isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of +feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, +little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was +nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those +innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your +system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out +to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to +tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, +you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and +dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I +felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. + +"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said +to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." + +Corky declined to cheer up. + +"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. +That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of +principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had +gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he +would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." + +I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. + +"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance +without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" + +"But how can I work it that way?" + +I saw his point. That was the catch. + +"There's only one thing to do," I said. + +"What's that?" + +"Leave it to Jeeves." + +And I rang the bell. + +"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy +things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very +seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies +in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in +a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they +want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he +says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite +bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh +of animals slain in anger and pie. + +The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful +attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost +child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him +that gave me confidence. + +Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye +gleams with the light of pure intelligence. + +"Jeeves, we want your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. + +"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way +by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting +on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, try to think of something." + +"I have thought of something already, sir." + +"You have!" + +"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may +seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial +outlay." + +"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an +idea, but it's going to cost a bit." + +Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the +whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting +gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. + +"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only +too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." + +"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's +attachment to ornithology." + +"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" + +"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite +unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the +flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. +Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I +have mentioned." + +"Oh! Well?" + +"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let +us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it +to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, +sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to +eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the +same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy +to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in +which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one +to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired +result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." + +I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage +when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had +betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me +down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to +hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's +brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. + +"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +The girl made an objection. + +"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even +write good letters." + +"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the +direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of +our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will +receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose +your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both +feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency +to kick like a steer." + +I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family +when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the +recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and +the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it +is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but +uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, +legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. + +But Jeeves had a solution, of course. + +"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious +author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for +a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should +appear on the title page." + +"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred +dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand +words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different +names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. +I'll get after him right away." + +"Fine!" + +"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent +fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number +now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while +a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real +work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the +old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny +book came along. + +I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The +Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was +there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang +at the door and the parcel was delivered. + +It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some +species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened +a copy at random. + +"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as +you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, +carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are +older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful +book--_American Birds_." + +You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later +there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed +cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap +who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. +I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the +world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a +certain disposition towards chumminess in him. + +"It's a cert!" I said. + +"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. + +And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to +tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so +dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. +Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author +of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would +be delighted to make her acquaintance. + +Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had +invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for +several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been +wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out +right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop +into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel +inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by +herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out +telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. + +"Well, well, well, what?" I said. + +"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" + +"Corky around?" + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" + +"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." + +It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a +kind of thingummy, you know. + +"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" + +"A row?" + +"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both +sides--er--and all that sort of thing." + +"Why, whatever makes you think that?" + +"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually +dined with him before you went to the theatre." + +"I've left the stage now." + +Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time +I had been away. + +"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" + +"Yes." + +"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." + +"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is +a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." + +I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of +healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he +looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. + +"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of +Bruce's, Alexander." + +The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from +hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. + +"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you +would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this +playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I +noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be +introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. +Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the +pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you +dined?" + +I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I +wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. + +When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I +called him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid +of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of +news for you." + +He came back with a tray and a long glass. + +"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." + +"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." + +"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You +remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by +writing the book on birds?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." + +He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. + +"That was always a development to be feared, sir." + +"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" + +"It crossed my mind as a possibility." + +"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" + +"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." + +Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer +frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to +it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a +cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the +same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky +again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of +soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few +months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was +beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather +up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the +healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on +it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple +had presented her husband with a son and heir. + +I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to +touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled +over. Absolutely. It was the limit. + +I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to +Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and +then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the +touch. I gave it him in waves. + +But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it +was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this +just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I +pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his +bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I +bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the +studio. + +I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting +away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle +age, holding a baby. + +A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. + +"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. + +Corky looked over his shoulder. + +"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will +be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby +and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. + +"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." + +Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and +began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for +granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as +awkward as it might have been. + +"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The +portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes +the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. +If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted +with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a +portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in +and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it +rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into +the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit +me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't +refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my +allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I +suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a +patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted +him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front +page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are +moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist +Beans Baby With Axe.'" + +I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was +too deep for words. + +I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't +seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm +bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally +of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. + +But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. + +"Bertie." + +"Halloa?" + +"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" + +"Nothing special." + +"You couldn't come down here, could you?" + +"What's the trouble? Anything up?" + +"I've finished the portrait." + +"Good boy! Stout work!" + +"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it +doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's +coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but +I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" + +I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The +sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. + +"You think he'll cut up rough?" + +"He may." + +I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the +restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too +easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. + +"I'll come," I said. + +"Good!" + +"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" + +"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves +is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" + +"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of +yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a +den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." + +"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang +for Jeeves, and explained the situation. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. + +We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up +in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. + +"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, +tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" + +The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good +look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I +went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite +so bad from there. + +"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. + +I hesitated a bit. + +"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a +moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I +remember rightly?" + +"As ugly as that?" + +I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. + +"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." + +Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort +of way. He groaned. + +"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned +thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked +that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of +the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put +the child's soul on canvas." + +"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how +he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" + +"I doubt it, sir." + +"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" + +"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. + +"I don't see how one could help noticing." + +"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. +But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." + +"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in +the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't +you think so, Jeeves?" + +"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." + +Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle +came in. + +For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy +shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't +think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his +stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't +notice him. + +"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really +finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a +wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" + +And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he +rocked back on his heels. + +"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the +scaliest silences I've ever run up against. + +"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about +sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. + +I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. + +"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. + +"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far +away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on +Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk +of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and +my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a +house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a +competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured +supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail +and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this +foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for +idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report +at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and +start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you +should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another +cent--not another--Boosh!" + +Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out +of the bombproof shelter. + +"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. + +Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was +a hunted look in his eye. + +"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You +heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." + +I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about +the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It +was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just +been sentenced to twenty years in quod. + +And then a soothing voice broke the silence. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" + +It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at +the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the +shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by +saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves +was there. + +"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby +Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? +He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite +saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him +use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which +he promoted." + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" + +"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects +a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he +did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of +Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. +It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a +billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial +fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage +for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks +into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always +a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In +the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a +coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable +one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a +likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly +consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. +Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been +for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold +and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly +popular." + +Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking +noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. + +And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. + +"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor +blighter was hysterical. + +He began to stagger about all over the floor. + +"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! +You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on +Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I +feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the +_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the +other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me +anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. +Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded +hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" + +Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal +muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to +smiling. + +"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the +series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" + +Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. +Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. + +"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished +looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an +optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with +Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest +before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the +swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for +instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the +eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the +neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" + +"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, +sir. Extremely diverting." + +"They have made a big hit, you know." + +"I anticipated it, sir." + +I leaned back against the pillows. + +"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a +commission on these things." + +"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has +been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." + +"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"But I rather fancy myself in it." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"Oh, all right, have it your own way." + +"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is +always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? + + + + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's +Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that +it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and +more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up +behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. +It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy +matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned +up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. + +It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from +under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of +fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had +asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you +know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming +a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much +mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's +judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when +he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like +a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in +the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who +was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but +the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John +Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by +another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after +a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how +things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of +manly and independent. + +Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for +breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and +sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and +opened the door an inch. + +"What ho without there!" + +"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. + +"Eh?" + +"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." + +"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for +I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well +there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be +when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" + +"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean +liner at an early hour this morning." + +This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had +arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at +some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a +foreign shore considerably before eight. + +"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" + +"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." + +"Is she alone?" + +"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his +lordship would be her ladyship's son." + +"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." + +"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." + +"Then lead me to it." + +While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern +could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and +was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. + +"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left +London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on +social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." + +"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" + +"Eh?" + +"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" + +It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather +a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work +the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. + +"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. +Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" + +"Too ornate, sir." + +"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." + +"Unsuitable, sir." + +"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" + +"Very good, sir." + +Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was +firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into +the sitting-room. + +"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" + +"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I +think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." + +Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed +female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet +from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as +if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing +arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging +eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about +fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb +a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and +had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say +how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would +wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. + +Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. +He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered +down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't +bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the +struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any +eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. + +"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a +long stay in America?" + +"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure +and call on you." + +I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to +come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, +when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie +from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you +that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only +married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, +you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I +simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find +that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to +make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked +America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my +natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone +to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I +braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the +assemblage. + +"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be +of assistance to us." + +"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" + +"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little +while." + +I didn't get this for a moment. + +"Put him up? For my clubs?" + +"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty +darling?" + +Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. + +"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. + +"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have +him to live with you while I am away." + +These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply +didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave +Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling +the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on +me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't +you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board +at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle +into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, +rolling placidly over me, as it were. + +There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. + +"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to +Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in +America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, +visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I +am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, +_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write +a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend +more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, +but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my +dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ +after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with +me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall +have to pick him up on my return." + +From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the +breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I +felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of +putting a stop to this woman. + +"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. +Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear +Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the +country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He +will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as +if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped +chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. +"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give +him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you +so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your +help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before +my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my +information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and +take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. +Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." + +They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. + +"Jeeves! What about it?" + +"Sir?" + +"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the +dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." + +"Pill, sir?" + +"The excrescence." + +"I beg your pardon, sir?" + +I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was +as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I +understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to +get his own back. + +"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said +coldly. + +"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." + +I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any +sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a +moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he +didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I +was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! + +But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a +pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the +more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty +out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt +Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or +later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to +get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a +stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the +fellow up and make the best of it. + +About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel +of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw +it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough +in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more +cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, +and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch +with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with +excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, +the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost +forgotten blighted Motty's existence. + +I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't +till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of +Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. + +It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still +there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after +seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. + +Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the +chappie's manner that he was still upset. + +"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and +what-not. + +"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." + +"Not returned? What do you mean?" + +"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, +went out again." + +At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of +scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the +woodwork. Then a sort of thud. + +"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He went out and came back again. + +"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able +to carry him in." + +"Carry him in?" + +"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." + +I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up +outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. + +"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. +"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" + +"Sir?" + +"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or +something. Call up a doctor!" + +"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his +lordship's legs, while I----" + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" + +"I am inclined to think so, sir." + +And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't +mistake it. Motty was under the surface. + +It was the deuce of a shock. + +"You never can tell, Jeeves!" + +"Very seldom, sir." + +"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" + +"It would seem so, sir." + +"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette +and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It +seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. + +Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went +into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a +wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading +Gingery stories. + +"What ho!" I said. + +"What ho!" said Motty. + +"What ho! What ho!" + +"What ho! What ho! What ho!" + +After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. + +"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. + +"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, +that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most +frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy +dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own +invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one +of the ones!" + +I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and +sucked his stick the day before. + +"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I +said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. +But he wouldn't have it, at any price. + +"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too +much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm +going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see +me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on +the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the +defect." + +"But I say, you know, what about me?" + +"What about you?" + +"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I +mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in +the soup somewhat." + +"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old +thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to +yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great +city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so +bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my +eyes open and collect impressions." + +I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. + +"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if +my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But +duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean +to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with +life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" + +Put like that, it did seem reasonable. + +"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in +the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've +been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The +only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught +sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about +it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up +a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only +chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old +sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent +chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to +discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" + + * * * * * + +I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close +to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a +damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was +being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye +he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him +along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful +sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand +the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I +mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I +think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled +eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing +are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all +over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when +you want to sit still and digest. + +Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made +up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about +with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once +when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had +to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ +for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie +peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. + +In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about +four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over +about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. +I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no +denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of +Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded +Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of +the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to +get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and +sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and +putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber +next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose +weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest +word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. + +And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man +was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't +rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the +pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. + +"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" + +"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. + +"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the +principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha +is!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well, then." + +I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. + +"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping +with this blighter?" + +"No, sir." + +And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, +don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that +Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much +admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he +left me flat. + +It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing +pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. +This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of +town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. +I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the +evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who +frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. +That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The +neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian +dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere +wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a +collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song +when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked +peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was +extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of +soothing. + +The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place +which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty +there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch +on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared +hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an +extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped +backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall +just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" + +"That would be Rollo, sir." + +"Eh?" + +"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come +in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet +settled down." + +"Who the deuce is Rollo?" + +"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, +and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will +go in and switch on the light." + +There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the +sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without +a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such +that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down +as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his +paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have +been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all +worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me +where he had left off. + +"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally +quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." + +"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, what am I to do?" + +"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will +learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." + +"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I +intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that +one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all +right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and +stop with Mr. Todd in the country." + +"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" + +"No." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." + +"Yes, sir." + + * * * * * + +As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I +went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the +wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing +goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a +few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New +York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. +The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't +get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you +have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I +thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they +have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I +went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked +round cautiously for Rollo. + +"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" + +"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the +porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal +on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." + +I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had +misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a +lot of intelligence in him. + +"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you expect him back to dinner?" + +"No, sir." + +"Where is he?" + +"In prison, sir." + +Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? +That's how I felt then. + +"In prison!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You don't mean--in prison?" + +"Yes, sir." + +I lowered myself into a chair. + +"Why?" I said. + +"He assaulted a constable, sir." + +"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" + +"Yes, sir." + +I digested this. + +"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" + +"Sir?" + +"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" + +"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." + +"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." + +"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out +by then." + +"But supposing it hasn't?" + +"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." + +"How?" + +"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that +his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." + +"Why Boston?" + +"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." + +"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." + +"I fancy so, sir." + +"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this +hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a +sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." + +"Exactly, sir." + +The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze +seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what +the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have +pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I +reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a +small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick +at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. +Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. +Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that +I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty +existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was +still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, +but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was +tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There +was a kind of grieved look in his eye. + +And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't +been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping +along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea +and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement +that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few +garments round me and went in. + +There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as +ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she +had done the first time. + +"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" + +"I have got back." + +There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had +swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she +probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that +I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a +fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've +engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. + +"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" + +"I have not yet breakfasted." + +"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or +something?" + +"No, thank you." + +She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for +the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. + +"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." + +"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" + +"Extremely, thank you." + +"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old +Grand Canyon, and what-not?" + +"I saw a great deal." + +There was another slightly _frappe_ silence. Jeeves floated +silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. + +"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" + +I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. + +"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." + +"You were his constant companion, then?" + +"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you +know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of +lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred +concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually +played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing +sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to +Boston." + +"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" + +"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where +you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, +don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. +Yes, Motty went off to Boston." + +"You're sure he went to Boston?" + +"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in +the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't +change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" + +"No, sir." + +"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." + +"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went +yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material +for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, +seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" + +I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has +to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like +this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar +and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, +because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my +system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling +it up, and now it came out with a rush: + +"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! +So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, +thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to +you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to +the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" + +I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of +Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the +hatchet against my return. + +"You deliberately----" + +Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: + +"If I might explain, your ladyship." + +Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized +on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't +do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. + +"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and +that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when +his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that +his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had +given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a +friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till +your ladyship informed him." + +Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. + +"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is +so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, +so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away +for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that +his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, +but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." + +"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore +went to prison voluntarily?" + +"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's +parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently +heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow +your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's +book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his +lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was +doing so little to help." + +"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. + +"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of +the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one +night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." + +Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I +could see her struggling with the thing. + +"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose +that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own +volition than that he committed some breach of the law which +necessitated his arrest?" + +Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. + +"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I +should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his +pure, fine spirit." + +"Absolutely!" I said. + +"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. + +I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. + +"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that +blighter into riotous living." + +"I fancy you are right, sir." + +I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, +by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that +this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I +hesitated. Then I made up my mind. + +"Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"That pink tie!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Burn it!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, Jeeves!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" + +"Thank you very much, sir." + +I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and +all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the +novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and +decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other +things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would +like?" + +"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." + +"Fifty dollars?" + +"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his +lordship." + +"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" + +"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship +was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable +method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship +was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me +for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering +him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the +eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." + +I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. + +"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, +you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" + +"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. + + + + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + + +Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup +of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting +out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do +if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad +now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There +used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak +him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered +him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's +got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to +look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry +eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! + +The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot +it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. + +I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. +And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself +on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances +knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, +of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. + +It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to +the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink +he said: + +"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were +out." + +"Oh?" I said. + +"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." + +"What, pipped?" + +"He gave that impression, sir." + +I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a +matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss +freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained +between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on +anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You +see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this +had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, +and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval +till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while +there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is +absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was +getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my +costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the +time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my +pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim +on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old +bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. + +"He said that he would call again later, sir." + +"Something must be up, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a +good deal, so I chucked it. + +"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on +the _Carmantic_." + +"Yes?" + +"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." + +This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one +knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species +of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my +arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I +rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in +fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so +we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort +in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and +what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily +gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though +we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him +was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the +strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. + +"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? +Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who +married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." + +Jeeves knows everything. + +"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Leave any money?" + +"No, sir." + +I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the +rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I +mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but +the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy +old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was +notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American +chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left +him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old +duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was +hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. +He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on +principle. + +At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky +came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. + +"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. +Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the +trouble, Bicky?" + +"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." + +"Say on, old lad!" + +"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +Bicky seemed a bit surprised. + +"Jeeves seems to know everything." + +"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." + +"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out +of the hole I'm in." + +Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the +table. + +"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you +to rally round." + +"Very good, sir." + +Bicky looked a bit doubtful. + +"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit +private and all that." + +"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it +already. Don't you, Jeeves?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. + +"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact +that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York +instead of in Colorado?" + +Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. + +"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" + +"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He +informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on +the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." + +Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. + +"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try +to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I +was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a +remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of +the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they +call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't +fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, +and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the +scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that +remittance." + +"I get you absolutely, dear boy." + +"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, +so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I +cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business +wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back +that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm +doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you +know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" + +"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was +coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always +given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I +can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." + +"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. + +"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you +prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" + +"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." + +"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. +Bickersteth----" + +"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, +and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast +that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of +course." + +"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this +flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was +the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I +was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be +residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would +occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this +answer satisfactorily, sir." + +Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed +sort of way. + +"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace +on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. +Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. +Will that meet the situation, sir?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. + +"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it +is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you +ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the +back!" + + * * * * * + +I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present +when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean +liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much +after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was +leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. +It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish +he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in +general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down +below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out +and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could +make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York +to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of +London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy +said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and +the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. + +"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"That'll be him at the door now." + +Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy +crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. + +"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of +sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must +have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of +Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. +Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." + +Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. + +"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" + +"Absolutely." + +"It must be terribly expensive." + +"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." + +He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at +it to restore his tissues, and nodded. + +"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight +shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look +round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how +much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" + +"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." + +"What! Forty pounds a month!" + +I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the +scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was +thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew +of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, +for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as +an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most +pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. + +"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York +often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you +wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. +Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, +when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite +different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in +commercial circles as quite the nib!" + +"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" + +"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and +Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. +"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads +elsewhere." + +Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. + +"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" + +"He's upstairs now, having some tea." + +"What does he think of it all?" + +"He's absolutely rattled." + +"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See +you later." + +"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." + +He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the +club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and +going down the other. + +It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for +dinner. + +"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering +about the place. "Gone out?" + +"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. +Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective +was Grant's Tomb." + +"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are +going--what?" + +"Sir?" + +"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." + +"Not altogether, sir." + +"What's his trouble now?" + +"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth +and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, +sir." + +"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in +business, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. +Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth +is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary +assistance." + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." + +"Somewhat disturbing, sir." + +"I never expected anything like this!" + +"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." + +"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." + +My heart bled for Bicky. + +"We must do something, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can you think of anything?" + +"Not at the moment, sir." + +"There must be something we can do." + +"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I +mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there +is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the +occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his +title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting +failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another +name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have +generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No +doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's +difficulty, sir." + +"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" + +"I will spare no pains, sir." + +I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was +when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a +dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time +than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill +of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. + +When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, +hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette +hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare +in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the +newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." + +"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. + +He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact +that it hadn't anything in it. + +"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. + +He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. + +"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money +was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been +reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can +make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars +and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a +hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every +day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep +of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every +seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. +Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have +more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep +in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd +make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get +quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair +at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no +good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." + +"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." + +"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." + +That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend +money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it +to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift +the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled +tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the +second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along +Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my +neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've +simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a +hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight +and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his +uppers, not taking any at any price. + +"Well, there's only one hope, then." + +"What's that?" + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of +shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting +in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you +look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little +uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. +He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves +now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my +tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" + +"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have +found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a +liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's +potentialities as a source of revenue." + +Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, +mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, +rather like a gargle. + +"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of +inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of +regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say +so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." + +Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't +get it myself. + +"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" + +"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a +prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you +are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent +personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might +know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two +dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including +handshake, to his grace." + +Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. + +"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid +cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" + +"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for +bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave +her social standing among the neighbours." + +Bicky wavered. + +"If you think it could be done----" + +"I feel convinced of it, sir." + +"What do you think, Bertie?" + +"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." + +"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." + +And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. + +Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making +proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock +Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays +I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market +opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened +quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest +the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the +week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper +down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in +sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of +light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money +down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, +owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to +kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me +the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things +take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as +a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. + +The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it +hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of +his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever +met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room +one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was +something doing. + +"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" + +"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." + +"Sir?" + +"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." + +"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." + +"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" + +"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." + +I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. + +"Birdsburg?" + +"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." + +"How did you get them?" + +"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be +absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into +conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. +I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his +buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for +Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a +gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the +auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to +inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming +a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if +Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was +purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at +some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. +It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and +pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had +shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to +broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I +have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention +shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." + +I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. + +"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" + +"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms +finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." + +I thought a bit. + +"Payable in advance?" + +"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not +successful." + +"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. +Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect +anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" + +"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not +bright." + +"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some +money." + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Right-o!" + +"Very good, sir." + +When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told +him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the +sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic +section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. + +"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? +I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you +know." + +The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. + +"There will be no reporters among them?" + +"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" + +"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive +young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while +the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this +persecution again." + +"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man +in the place." + +"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your +friends." + +"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" + +"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules +of civilized intercourse." + +Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, +where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. + +After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg +contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal +round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very +decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn +it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We +settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, +each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the +duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up +Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted +with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the +Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out +some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we +thanked him. + +Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the +cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every +respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth +up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and +what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of +apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be +brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. + +"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. + +The old boy seemed a bit rattled. + +"I have never been to Birdsburg." + +The chappie seemed pained. + +"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in +the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" + +"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. + +The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. + +"Say!" + +He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins +and a cold eye. + +The assemblage looked at him. + +"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not +questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict +business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on +record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." + +"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. + +"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but +there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here +says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're +the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read +English novels, and I know all about it." + +"This is monstrous!" + +"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to +know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should +see that we get our money's worth." + +The water-supply cove chipped in: + +"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the +agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to +reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here +a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want +to know----" + +Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the +water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. + +"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite +politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." + +"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens +of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands +with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my +friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. +Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are +the Duke of Chiswick at all." + +Old Chiswick gulped. + +"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that +I am the Duke of Chiswick." + +"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we +wanted to know. Let the thing go on." + +"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am +feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." + +"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at +this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." + +"I fear I must disappoint them." + +"But in that case the deal would have to be off." + +"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." + +The chappie seemed troubled. + +"You really won't meet the rest of them?" + +"No!" + +"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." + +They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick +turned to Bicky: + +"Well?" + +Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. + +"Was it true what that man said?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"What do you mean by playing this trick?" + +Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. + +"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." + +Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: + +"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of +money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if +you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every +day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five +cents. + +"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" + +"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a +substantial business man." + +"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. +"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance +of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly +in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the +ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." + +Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. + +"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your +financial status!" + +"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He +doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot +stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think +it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" + +"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a +penny!" + +"But----" + +"Not a penny!" + +There was a respectful cough in the background. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" + +Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. + +"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. + +"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a +little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might +secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this +afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and +enterprising newspapers." + +"By Jove!" I said. + +"By George!" said Bicky. + +"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. + +"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. +They eat that sort of stuff." + +Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. + +"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" + +"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't +get the money any other way----" + +"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange +something." + +"I won't go to that bally ranch." + +"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a +moment suggest it. I--I think----" + +He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, +on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I +might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to +utilize your services in some secretarial position." + +"I shouldn't mind that." + +"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in +English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" + +"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred +quid a year, paid quarterly." + +"My dear boy!" + +"Absolutely!" + +"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled +opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to +accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, +you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." + +"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, +that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. +It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens +has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen +chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's +a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. +Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till +they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a +future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" + +A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be +resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. + +"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." + +"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to +celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"It beats me how you do it." + +"Yes, sir." + +"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" + +"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify +his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to +assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position +to do so." + +"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. + +"Bring my shaving things." + +A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. + +"You mean, sir?" + +"And shave off my moustache." + +There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. + +"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped +off. + + + + +ABSENT TREATMENT + + +I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most +interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but +I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. +If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; +and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a +girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. + +If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be +surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for +the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who +have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised +when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. + +In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most +pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called +me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it +came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap +was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him +a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him +a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before +the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to +see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. +By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town +before my messenger arrived. + +The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. +Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, +once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that +stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. + +At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't +occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; +that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup +chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still +doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like +that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, +as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out +things. + +She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave +about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her +living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life +there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a +girl who works for her living. + +Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she +had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those +determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself +up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and +rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't +been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to +the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. + +Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he +introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my +name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. +My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He +left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but +I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a +girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being +an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat +for years. + +Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come +to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the +greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she +thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about +her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie +didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being +quite happy. + +Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't +really start till then. + +They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite +a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be +running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I +thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There +were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. + +But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here +that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. + +I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back +to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting +myself under police protection, I went. + +When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell +you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and +crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And +she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to +describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this +was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were +dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked +domesticity. + +"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have +a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it +up now--what?" + +She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned +scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little +laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree +about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. + +"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at +me. + +And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She +talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on +the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly +little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of +thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was +working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and +that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and +everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've +sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the +rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and +got away. + +Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie +at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely +gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. + +He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to +about it. + +"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. + +I didn't exactly. + +"About a year, isn't it?" + +"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" + +Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. + +"Yesterday was----?" + +"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the +Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. +I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through +dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd +forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" + +"Till your wife mentioned it?" + +He nodded---- + +"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. + +I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be +angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, +they aren't half-hearted about it. + +"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken +sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." + +There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat +there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the +window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and +watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then +walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an +instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a +certain stratum of sense. + + * * * * * + +It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem +of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in +one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; +but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the +average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable +mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently +through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a +chump of the first water. + +And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And +Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like +dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork +disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him +against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. +Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might +cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I +had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my +life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I +forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. + +For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet +little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read +somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to +Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big +enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. +Pretty soon he was back at the old game. + +It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was +frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew +it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married +one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's +married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to +do it now, before he began to drift away. + +I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he +was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't +remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was +something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a +book. + +"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she +knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about +everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." + +He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a +couple of sovereigns. + +"Oh, by the way," he said. + +"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. + +"I owe it you." + +"How's that?" I said. + +"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were +playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, +and Murray beat him by twenty odd." + +"So you do remember some things?" I said. + +He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter +who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after +knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. + +"Subside, laddie," I said. + +Then I spoke to him like a father. + +"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull +yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're +due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to +make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, +even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've +got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included +in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." + +"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks +such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot +what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the +cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a +memorizing freak at the halls." + +"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear +that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be +trouble." + +He chewed the knob of his stick. + +"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. + +"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. + + * * * * * + +I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing +in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, +and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But +no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. +I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to +anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. +If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the +only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After +that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. +But I thought a lot about him. + +Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, +and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a +kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had +been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that +he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the +thorax. + +I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out +over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and +down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed +Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, +waving a piece of paper in his hand. + +"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" + +"Gone!" I said. "Who?" + +"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" + +"Where?" I said. + +Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly +foamed at the mouth. + +"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." + +He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. + +"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." + +So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, +but it was all to the point. This is what it said: + + "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me + to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will + come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." + +I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" + +"Why don't I what?" + +"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to +ask." + +"But she says on her birthday." + +"Well, when is her birthday?" + +"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." + +"Forgotten!" I said. + +"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." + +"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the +twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" + +"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the +thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." + +"Think." + +"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've +been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." + +"And you can't remember?" + +"No." + +I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. + +"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an +untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes +and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's +birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know +enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his +deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself +out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For +instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What +sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." + +Bobbie shook his head. + +"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." + +"Warm?" + +"Warmish." + +"Or cold?" + +"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." + +I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young +Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An +invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without +which no home is complete." + +Bobbie seemed to be thinking. + +"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on +her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the +date when it was bought, and the thing's done." + +"Absolutely. What did you give her?" + +He sagged. + +"I can't remember," he said. + +Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's +as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever +had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did +it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the +undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a +brain-wave. + +Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? +There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, +your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. +Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we +found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the +month, and narrow it down a whole lot. + +A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied +out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. +As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we +saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, +but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly +hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December +people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." +Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite +extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born +with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed +up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful +memories"--Mary's speciality. + +We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. + +Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that +month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a +happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women +"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and +expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was +about as like Mary as anything could be. + +In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went +home. + +It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old +Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It +represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the +middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that +is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had +a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think +in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his +brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow +human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was +all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these +brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all +over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would +only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the +idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. + +I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he +came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I +never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. + +One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see +that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. + +"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I +shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went +together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" + +"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" + +"Why, they change the programme every week there." + +"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." + +"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's +Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing +it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this +minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out +of them, if I have to use a crowbar." + +So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like +brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the +pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. + +"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me +another time." + +"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." + +And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. + +Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. +I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It +was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. + +"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. +We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have +been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." + +"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." + +I heard him give a sort of howl. + +"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. + +"Well?" + +"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the +Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to +bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." + +"But I'm always writing cheques." + +"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up +your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the +Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." + +He gave a kind of gulp. + +"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe +you've got it. Hold the line." + +Presently he came back again. + +"Halloa!" he said. + +"I'm here," I said. + +"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" + +"Topping," I said. "Good night." + +It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as +well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel +near the Strand. + +"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. + +"It's late," said the man at the other end. + +"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." + +I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had +frozen hard, but I was past regrets. + +"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. + +"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that +particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." + +"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" + +"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." + +She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must +be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't +you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about +my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. + +"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" + +"No." + +Well, I hadn't. + +"Mr. Pepper." + +"Yes?" + +"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" + +I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the +party. + +"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. +He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has +started out to worry after breakfast, and----" + +Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should +pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the +wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, +don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she +bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in +that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it +means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. + +And then she began. + +"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and +see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from +you would have put everything right, I can't----" + +"But----" + +"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most +unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a +kind-hearted man." + +"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" + +"I thought it hateful, abominable." + +"But you said it was absolutely top----" + +"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't +wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to +be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to +separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by +gloating over his agony----" + +"But----!" + +"When one single word would have----" + +"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. + +"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to +break your promise?" + +I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the +receiver, and crawled into bed. + + * * * * * + +I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit +the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing +invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes +went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And +as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself +together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I +am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: +"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every +minute." + + + + +HELPING FREDDIE + + +I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but +I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at +literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give +the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all +right. + +Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for +years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him +sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and +generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I +was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and +soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of +thing. + +Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes +plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to +question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the +matter was. + +As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with +Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the +engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently +she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused +to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. + +I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once +in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact +that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my +autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. + +"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to +Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the +twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." + +"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I +knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl +wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; +suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never +answered at all." + +But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had +swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to +Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. + +Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a +fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day +there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll +out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on +the wounds and go to bed. + +It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze +sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a +rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round +waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers +the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. + +Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I +began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: +for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write +home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the +carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one +finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't +play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would +blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. + +He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. + +"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." + +"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" + +"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the +doorway. She cut me!" + +He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. + +"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go +away." + +"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that +could have happened. This is where you come out strong." + +"She cut me." + +"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." + +"She looked clean through me!" + +"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. +I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her +under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly +thanking you. What you want----" + +"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" + +I thought for a moment. + +"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. + +"I can't swim," said Freddie. + +That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a +thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. + +He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. + +I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. +There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear +old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in +happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a +backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a +man of enterprise. + +Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring +like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it +was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs +of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. +She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. +On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the +girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced +that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had +been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about +the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't +think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one +of those round, bulging kids. + +After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and +began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling +sweets at a stall. And I walked on. + +Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I +don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been +chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least +expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. +I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a +single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. + +It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, +when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. +The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in +sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought +the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of +the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was +her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young +heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully +anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly +appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the +effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and +practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make +her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid +and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of +reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by +George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. + +Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine +points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him +down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if +you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and +poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. + +"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? +What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" + +The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I +raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right +stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the +stuff. + +"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. +After a while it began to strike him. + +"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said +handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." + +And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to +scour the beach for Angela. + +I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie +that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again +made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was +leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down +the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still +with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. + +"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" + +"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow +laughs. + +"Well, then----?" + +Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. + +"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. + +"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the +beach. She had never seen him before in her life." + +"What! Who is he, then?" + +"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll +probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for +kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you +through the bars." + +"Tell me all, old boy," I said. + +It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the +middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered +gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he +told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually +call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of +way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping +stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had +crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. + +"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it +at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find +the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." + + * * * * * + +By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal +kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to +restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how +kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, +but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from +the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself +in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought +to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, +and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. + +I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody +answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody +came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way +that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I +wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from +somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" + +I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and +west of it, staring down from an upper window. + +"Hi!" it shouted again. + +"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. + +"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" + +"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you +Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." + +"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" + +The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face +reappeared. + +"Hi!" + +I churned the gravel madly. + +"Do you live here?" said the face. + +"I'm staying here for a few weeks." + +"What's your name?" + +"Pepper. But----" + +"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" + +"My uncle. But----" + +"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him +now." + +"I wish you were," I said. + +He beamed down at me. + +"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to +do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles +has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of +infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most +fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate +to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any +nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take +Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written +to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few +days." + +"May!" + +"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a +week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. +Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." + +"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a +bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to +escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. + +I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. + +The window flew up again. + +"Hi!" + +A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a +bomb. + +"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed +it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's +Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a +little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." + +My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. +Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat +from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. + +As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. + +The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at +her and said, "Wah!" + +The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. + +"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you +again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this +morning," she said to me. + +This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered +lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded +good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my +breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. + +I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out +what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more +manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his +head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he +began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, +dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such +expressions. + +"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, +why don't you say something?" + +"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can we do about it?" + +"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." + +He got up. + +"I'm going back to London," he said. + +"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you +desert a pal at a time like this?" + +"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." + +"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize +that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You +wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we +were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." + +He sat down again. + +"Oh, well," he said resignedly. + +"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you +know?" + +He looked at me in a curious way. + +"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good +deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." + +Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that +crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the +local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically +incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty +satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having +undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there +were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. + +Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew +what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere +matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I +stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which +might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like +nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. + +But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next +bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their +nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid +dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered +wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat +down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver +lining there had been to the cloud up to date. + +"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a +child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and +domestic--what!" + +Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he +had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a +much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, +the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. + +Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the +kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his +portmanteau. + +"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of +thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little +treasure?" + +I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. + +"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad +situation for act two of a farce." + +"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. + +"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll +rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." + +As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid +down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. + +"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the +old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping +child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. +Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the +piano?" + +"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." + +Jimmy shook his head. + +"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. +Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit +of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up +to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' +Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses +L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big +speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very +well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes +us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just +giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the +child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We +want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and +has the punch." + +"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, +that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts +Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." + +Jimmy frowned. + +"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set +instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, +when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First +rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." + +Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not +to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't +in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we +concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw +that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing +was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. + +"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first +rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his +line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two +words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got +a success." + +I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be +one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning +intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as +exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the +kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd +go all to pieces again. And time was flying. + +"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day +now and take him away." + +"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. +We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes +who would have learned the part quicker." + +I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't +discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash +at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was +after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have +been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first +opportunity, but Jimmy said no. + +"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said +'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might +do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." + +But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. + +It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie +had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the +house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along +came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual +yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. + +"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come +up?" + +She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that +sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the +kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the +sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At +any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the +veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. + +I tried to break up the scene. + +"We were just going down to the beach," I said. + +"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your +piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for +ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when +he's finished here?" + +"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be +disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell +him later." + +"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine +Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he +will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." + +"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. + +She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in +her pocket for something. + +"The beach," I babbled. + +"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't +you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of +toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. + +That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid +was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. + +And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for +all the world as if he had been taking a cue. + +He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the +ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" + +The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy +Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards +it. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. + +"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. + +"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on +till you do." + +She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still +stood there gaping, without a word. + +"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her +eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a +fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. +Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and +see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. +It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as +if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up +and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. + +"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. + +I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. +Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief +remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the +while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. + +And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. + +And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She +leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while +Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. + +Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it +seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in +my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a +word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. +What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? + +Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. + +"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? +We must have a big rehearsal to-day." + +"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor +dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." + +"Tell me," said Jimmy. + +I told him. + +"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's +always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things +look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now +a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" + +"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" + +In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow +from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite +projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the +road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, +about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as +if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped +in each other's arms. + + * * * * * + +Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his +business had certainly gone with a bang! + + + + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + + +I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the +course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, +was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, +don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. + +We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an +old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, +my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's +maid Pilbeam and George. + +George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him +into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who +was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to +hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he +had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was +a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a +sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a +chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and +had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it +struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at +Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix +up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George +had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were +anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. + + * * * * * + +Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the +thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from +a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my +state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed +and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, +which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly +recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd +expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently +relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my +midst at that hour was too much for me. + +"Voules!" I yelled. + +Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing +in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with +that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay +him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of +emotion in him. + +"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be +Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just +seven." + +"I understood you to summon me, sir." + +"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise +outside." + +"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment +I raised my voice." + +"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" + +"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." + +"What was all the trouble about?" + +"I was breaking our engagement, sir." + +I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with +engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his +secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. + +"I think I'll get up," I said. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right +away?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was +a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all +the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. +Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit +pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for +it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? + +"Seen George?" I asked. + +I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was +queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly +close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and +slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; +she loves muh!" + +"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. + +I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that +a.m. + +The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when +the morning papers arrived. + +Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. + +"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. + +"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. + +"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." + +Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was +full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness +the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these +chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on +his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed +the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking +advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable +vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible +in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his +yacht, where he still lay unconscious. + +"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for +slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" + +"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His +Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent +private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the +police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important +clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in +Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." + +About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move +off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man +came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old +Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. + +"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on +board--Mr. George Lattaker?" + +"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I +say?" + +"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on +somewhat urgent business." + +"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him +up." + +I went down to George's state-room. + +"George, old man!" I shouted. + +No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's +more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more +surprised. I went on deck. + +"He isn't there," I said. + +"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone +for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better +wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" + +The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped +down, leaving me alone on deck. + +I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought +I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked +over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in +evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old +George. + +"Great Scot!" I cried. + +"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" + +"They're all down at breakfast." + +He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I +regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. + +"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. + +He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. + +"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How +do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about +touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of +my body this morning, Reggie!" + +"Yes, old boy?" + +"I did a murder last night." + +"What?" + +"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella +Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" + +"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" + +"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I +proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was +just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming +along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's +maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, +Reggie?" + +"Never. I've been refused dozens----" + +"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I +hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest +thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It +wasn't. It was Pilbeam." + +"You kissed her?" + +"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened +and out came Stella." + +"Great Scott!" + +"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, +not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It +did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed +off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to +forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned +my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can +recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street +and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all +I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my +hat." + +I dived for the paper. + +"Read," I said. "It's all there." + +He read. + +"Good heavens!" he said. + +"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" + +"Reggie, this is awful." + +"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." + +"That doesn't matter." + +"It does to him." + +He read the paper again. + +"It says they've a clue." + +"They always say that." + +"But--My hat!" + +"Eh?" + +"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman +Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" + +"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" + +He jumped a foot in the air. + +"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the +matter?" + +"The man!" + +"What man?" + +"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you +did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted +to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the +look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." + +"No!" + +"I feel it. I'm sure of it." + +"Had he a hat?" + +"Of course he had a hat." + +"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" + +"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must +get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your +life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lese-majeste_. +It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to +waste." + +"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or +something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire +my uncle to meet me in----" + +"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" + +He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, +carrying a letter on a tray. + +"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A +letter has arrived for him." + +"He isn't here." + +"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" + +"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to +see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" + +"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." + +"Ah! That's all, Voules." + +"Thank you, sir." + +He retired. I called to George, and he came out. + +"Who was it?" + +"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast +still. The sleuth's eating kippers." + +"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his +letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. + +"Reggie, this is a queer thing." + +"What's that?" + +He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he +had grunted. This is how it ran: + + "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I + think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious + situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which + your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are + expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have + reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard + your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or + kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both + babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it + was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a + letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos + Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has + only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on + his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like + other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile + his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can + hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a + thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take + some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we + meet.--Your affectionate uncle, + + "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." + +I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I +do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I +have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. + +"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." + +"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this +chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, +though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have +to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, +failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently +there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected +offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." + +"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of +your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to +stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." + +He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. + +"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." + +"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of +twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't +Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you +up that you have a brother Alfred." + +"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." + +"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your +life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective +off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." + +At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. + +"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. + +"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll +swear George hadn't one." + +"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making +things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." + +"No, no." + +"You _are_." + +"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." + +And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. + +"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." + +I looked at George. George looked at me. + +"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us +away, would you, Voules?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You would?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by +it?" + +"Financially, sir, nothing." + +"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding +your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old +fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." + +"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you +think that you can buy my self-respect?" + +"Oh, come!" I said. + +"How much?" said Voules. + +So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. +You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted +to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. +By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred +when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it +up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed +his clothes. + +He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. + +"Did you meet him?" I asked. + +"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. + +"George's twin-brother Alfred." + +"I didn't know George had a brother." + +"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in +infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his +uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George +has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, +Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a +brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it +_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." + +And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. + +They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at +him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite +certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. + +"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. + +"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. + +"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. + +"No one could tell you apart," I said. + +"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came +to a question of identification, there would be one way of +distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" + +"He's a dear old pal of mine." + +"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" + +"Every day last August." + +"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this +on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped +and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it +often when we were bathing together. + +"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. + +"No," I said. "Oh, no." + +"You would have noticed it if he had?" + +"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." + +"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able +to prove one's own identity." + +That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It +seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think +George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had +breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he +hadn't a care in the world. + +Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the +foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the +rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. + +"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" + +"What did you tell me?" + +"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for +George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the +trouble was. And then----" + +"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you +after knowing you for about two hours." + +"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became +him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she +told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a +pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down +for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." + +"And it's all right?" + +"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that +infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." + +"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and +is waiting for you." + +"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. + +We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a +boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. + +"It's my uncle," said George. + +A stout man came up the gangway. + +"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" + +"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is +Alfred Lattaker." + +"What's that?" + +"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" + +The stout man stared at him. + +"You're very like George," he said. + +"So everyone tells me." + +"And you're really Alfred?" + +"I am." + +"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." + +He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. + +At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I +should be glad to have the afternoon off." + +I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a +trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. + +I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was +waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" + +I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up +about it, so I told her. + +"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." + +She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm +hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" +which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. + +"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings +and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." + +I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my +state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of +this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going +about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was +at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. + +I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the +facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the +trouble. + +Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. +There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind +had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a +fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. + +I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says +about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of +care? George's was like that. He looked green. + +"Finished with your uncle?" I said. + +He grinned a ghostly grin. + +"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there +isn't any money." + +"Explain yourself, old top," I said. + +"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the +trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When +the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he +went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last +remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while +and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he +invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner +or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, +which he has done. He's on his way now." + +"You let him go?" + +"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis +around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding +prison is to be Alfred." + +"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, +anyway," I said, to cheer him up. + +"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. +How can I marry her?" + +I pondered. + +"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit +of a mess." + +"You've guessed it," said poor old George. + +I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what +a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you +see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, +and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You +can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. +Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, +getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what +I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about +it. + +It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. +We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old +Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when +he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was +suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was +worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and +I, only not for the same reason. + +We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a +well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. + +"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Coeslin, equerry to His +Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the +Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." + +Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. + +"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You +remember?" + +"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I +suppose not?" + +"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" + +Stella shook hands with him. + +"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a +terrible thing to have happened!" + +"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained +consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." + +"That's good," said old Marshall. + +"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your +permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." + +"Mr. Who?" + +The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. + +"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." + +"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" + +"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his +services----" + +"I know. But what's he doing here?" + +"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." + +"Eh?" + +"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. + +"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like +now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." + +"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" + +George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. + +"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can +tell me by my mole." + +He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. + +The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. + +"I am sorry," he said. + +George didn't offer to console him, + +"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." + +"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." + +"What?" shouted George. + +"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, +saved my high-born master from the assassin." + +George sat down suddenly. + +"I don't understand," he said feebly. + +"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the +conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was +also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard +the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a +dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he +had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. +My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he +lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing +the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the +assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His +Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His +gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, +you should be proud of your brother, sir!" + +"Thanks," said George limply. + +"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search +the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." + +"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. + +It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his +head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. + +"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. + +He glared at George, who was staring at him. + +"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this +afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours +without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll +learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this +morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on +you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged +that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. +And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his +mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That +man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." + +George got up. + +"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." + +"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." + +"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had +rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only +remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the +conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." + +"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. + +"I am." + +"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. + +"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of +Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." + +"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the +girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's +chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. + +"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot +yourself." + +He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed +to think better of it and fell into the clinch. + +It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. + +"Voules, you're sacked," I said. + +"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman +of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get +your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." + +"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the +presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his +preserver." + +"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" + +There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a +smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and +Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. + +"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so +happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." + +"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that +way now." + +I coughed and he turned round. + +"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. + +"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." + +"Beautiful," said Stella. + +"The moon," I said. + +"Ripping," said George. + +"Lovely," said Stella. + +"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" + +George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. + +I popped. + + + + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + + +Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean +really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, +or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly +bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my +notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty +few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the +Yeardsley "Venus." + +To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I +shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and +myself. + +When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire +family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at +Oxford with me. + +I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was +a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just +as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture +catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played +"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month +later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence +Yeardsley, an artist. + +What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the +club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I +got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the +book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me +that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the +country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, +by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I +was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to +be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it +had done. + +This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue +sky, as it were. It ran like this: + + "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of + you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old + house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. + Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be + so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you + again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. + Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. + --Yours most sincerely, + + ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. + + "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! + + "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has + ever played on. + + "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says + it is better than St. Andrews. + + "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" + +Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a +head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite +easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. + +However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he +was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must +be something special. So I went. + +Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him +for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was +glad to see me. + +"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just +about at my last grip." + +"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. + +"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere +mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be +so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" + +"Pictures?" + +"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an +artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like +when one gives her her head?" + +I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my +time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the +period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had +had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though +pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had +never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after +marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere +sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to +old Bill. + +"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a +chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" + +"A few days." + +"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there +to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was +that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me +back with a lasso." + +I tried to point out the silver lining. + +"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links +near here." + +He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. + +"You don't mean honestly she said that?" + +"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." + +"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" + +"Well, wasn't it enough?" + +"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" + +"No, she forgot to tell me that." + +"It's the worst course in Great Britain." + +I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have +got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily +allowance of golf when I'm not in London. + +I took another whirl at the silver lining. + +"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's +good." + +"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch +cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended +it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve +the thing as a billiard-table." + +"But she said you said----" + +"Must have been pulling your leg." + +We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well +back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I +couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read +about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and +hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to +know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she +had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was +what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought +me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going +to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married +women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was +nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's +father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as +she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. + +"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot +of that sort stopping here, are there?" + +"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." + +As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure +appeared. + +"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind +struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady +Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. + +"Do you mean me?" I said. + +She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same +as in the old days. + +"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid +you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come +along in and have some tea." + + * * * * * + +Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and +then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt +when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you +hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." +Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have +preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on +Clarence. + +He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His +hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore +pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells +myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, +mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. +Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. + +"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said +Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. + +"Eh?" I said. + +"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" + +While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old +gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was +an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. +Elizabeth introduced us. + +"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel +positive I heard a cat mewing." + +"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." + +"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my +nerves!" + +"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. + +"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. + +That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think +they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to +pictures. + +We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At +least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of +picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and +then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I +was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a +valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the +first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with +any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the +pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. + +"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" + +They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. +Elizabeth grabbed the paper. + +"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of +Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" + +"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" + +"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I +noticed her eyes were sparkling. + +"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been +the 'Venus'!" + +Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. + +"The 'Venus'!" he cried. + +They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the +evening's chat had made quite a hit. + +Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth +showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley +"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed +impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing +it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the +foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I +was aware of its existence. + +She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley +was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were +rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry +effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when +Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent +towards me and said, "Reggie." + +And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You +know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it +then. + +"What-o?" I said nervously. + +"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." + +"Yes?" + +She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back +to me: + +"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the +world for me?" + +There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as +a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she +would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that +sort of thing, what? + +Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. +I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't +appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who +may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to +her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction +when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man +who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. + +I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." + +"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me +everlastingly grateful." + +"Yes," I said. + +"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago +Clarence was very fond of cats?" + +"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" + +"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." + +"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" + +"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants +to get rid of something." + +"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" + +"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. + +She looked up and caught my bulging eye. + +"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. + +"Not that I remember." + +"Well, come into the dining-room." + +We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. + +"There," she said. + +On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed +it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It +was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, +you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ +noticed it. + +"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. + +She nodded. + +"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to +a meal?" + +"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry +through all right." + +She jerked her head impatiently. + +"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." + +And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't +understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old +Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It +explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, +which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send +you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're +absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped +into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a +teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and +go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, +the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. + +And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. + +It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and +that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have +known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding +present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so +far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a +professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at +the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. +He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. +He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to +look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything +rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to +store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the +picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent +that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. + +"Now you see," she said. + +"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy +weather over a trifle?" + +"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in +church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next +to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" + +She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, +or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It +was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other +one. + +Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a +dash at it. + +"Er--'Venus'?" I said. + +Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the +evidence, I mean. + +"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see +you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. +When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have +been at your club." + +This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up +to me, and put her hand on my arm. + +"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you +understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let +us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit +and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after +day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that +with Clarence. Now you see?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" + +"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to +do?" + +"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" + +I looked at her. + +"You want me to----?" + +"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you +see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the +idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of +the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the +last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his +feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! +One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take +his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, +Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of +the frame, and it's done." + +"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, +but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in +fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" + +"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." + +"But if I'm caught?" + +"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of +the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." + +It sounded simple enough. + +"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" + +"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." + +"But----" + +She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. + +"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." + +She looked at me. + +"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, +don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow +me?" + +"All right," I said. "I'll do it." + +I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped +in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. +If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job +I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done +when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed +easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, +and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for +one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be +pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. +I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my +knife, and slunk downstairs. + +The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the +window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of +local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. +I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, +when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have +said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. +Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and +things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling +something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that +sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" + +I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill +kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. + +"What happened?" I said. + +"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I +came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a +chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I +just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think +you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" + +"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she +had told you." + +"You don't mean----" + +"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." + +"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about +repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I +hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to +do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after +all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm +sorry." + +"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was +still on. + +"Are you feeling better now?" + +"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." + +"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this +job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made +a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on +the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." + +"Heads." + +"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the +light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." + +It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and +the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old +Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, +collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. + +"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture +of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the +thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him +a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of +Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." + +We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our +drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and +shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness +of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good +by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days +when we used to brew in my study at school. + +We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and +gripped my arm. + +"I heard something," he said. + +I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over +the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy +footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. + +"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. + +There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively +chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would +have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't +really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and +believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, +a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one +jump. + +"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." + +I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the +knife. We crept downstairs. + +"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. + +"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" + +"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. + +Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. + +Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. +And then we pulled up sharp, staring. + +The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the +near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," +holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, +was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He +had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he +stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down +in a heap together. The candle went out. + +"What on earth?" said Bill. + +I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most +fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly +collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I +could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, +it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at +me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I +saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But +we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped +short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old +Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. + +"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. +It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down +to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" + +It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among +those present. + +"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. + +"He's in bed," I said. + +"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself +on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who +sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." + +He gave a gulp. + +"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you +understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two +years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It +was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then +Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You +cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The +thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the +picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. +And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I +could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from +a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never +suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals +who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. +I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down +here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this +time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," +he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" + +I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this +time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him +straight instead of breaking it by degrees. + +"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite +understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort +of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" + +I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, +staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling +at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. + +"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have +taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My +Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, +but he had to know the truth. + +"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." + +He started, poor old chap. + +"Eh? What do you mean?" + +"They _did_ take your Venus." + +"But I have it here." + +I shook my head. + +"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. + +He jumped at it and straightened it out. + +"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own +picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can +you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" + +And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! + + * * * * * + +Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled +down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was +my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's +fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected +to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive +silence for a bit. + +"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing +Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" + +"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." + +"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving +Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to +London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how +about it?" + + + + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + +Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time +during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought +that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of +being baffled. + +Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages +for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's +more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who +was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; +philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely +on him at every turn. + +So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't +hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. + +The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was +in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the +dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower +ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and +generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first +impression was that it was some horrid dream. + +Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from +New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once +that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. +Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a +walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He +was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of +his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He +told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and +wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. + +He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a +month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three +hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there +was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in +which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to +young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, +American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things +once. It began: + + Be! + Be! + The past is dead. + To-morrow is not born. + Be to-day! + To-day! + Be with every nerve, + With every muscle, + With every drop of your red blood! + Be! + +It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of +scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, +with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said +they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four +in the afternoon for over a month. + +As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he +had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had +been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his +position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the +money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem +recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all +its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the +mantelpiece. + +And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! + +"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or +something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" + +I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped +for the bell. + +Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me +how he does it. + +"Tea, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression +of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky +was surging round with his beastly letter again. + +"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" + +"Read it!" + +"I can't. I haven't had my tea." + +"Well, listen then." + +"Who's it from?" + +"My aunt." + +At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: + +"So what on earth am I to do?" + +Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering +over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. + +"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. +Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want +your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, +and Rocky started again: + + "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a + long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been + very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made + up my mind to do now." + +"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" + +"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes +cleared at a later point in the communication." + +"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. + +"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. + + "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see + for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I + fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I + am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." + +"Sad, Jeeves, what?" + +"Extremely, sir." + +"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last +Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself +that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist +that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a +fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's +been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." + +"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of +the deer,' Jeeves?" + +"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." + +"Carry on, Rocky, dear +boy." + + "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the + city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly + thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the + Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a + certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to + enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." + +"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do +in ten years." + + "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now + I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I + have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a + firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you + quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you + live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. + I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as + I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic + life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant + supper parties. + + "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me + letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all + you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may + enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying + for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no + detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, + + "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." + +"What about it?" said Rocky. + +"What about it?" I said. + +"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" + +It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude +of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the +right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind +it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here +the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar +plexus. It amazed me. + +"Aren't you bucked?" I said. + +"Bucked!" + +"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider +this pretty soft for you." + +He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to +talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer +chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, +and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an +hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty +straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the +place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a +publicity agent for the old metrop.! + +"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have +to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole +of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to +mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. +Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because +they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I +loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got +to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral +delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than +a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" + +I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in +for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of +the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. + +"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to +share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars +and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I +suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a +ghastly notion!" + +I was shocked, absolutely shocked. + +"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. + +"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" + +"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by +the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" + +"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" + +"Three." + +"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear +the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." + +"And shirts?" + +"Four dozen, sir." + +"And white ties?" + +"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely +filled with our white ties, sir." + +I turned to Rocky. + +"You see?" + +The chappie writhed like an electric fan. + +"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on +earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't +get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put +on an old sweater?" + +I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his +finest feelings. + +"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. + +"That's what I want to know." + +"You might write and explain to your aunt." + +"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid +leaps and cut me out of her will." + +I saw his point. + +"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. + +Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. + +"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is +obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his +possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters +relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be +accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of +remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party +to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes +reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful +report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his +imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." + +Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked +at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as +I have, and he isn't on to his curves. + +"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the +start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the +idea?" + +"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. +All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you +and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. +That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a +startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. + +"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart +sort of man, a man who would notice things." + +"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." + +"But would he?" + +"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" + +For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost +smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and +for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. + +"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have +already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening +out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." + +"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She +wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, +Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will +show you the way." + +Jeeves shook his head. + +"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The +place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." + +"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." + +It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans +happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of +the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything +went absolutely right from the start. + +Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, +and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. +I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table +on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a +fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so +nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he +was making notes in a small book. + +As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond +of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was +perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his +pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to +death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to +be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it +was full of life. + +But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck +anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, +loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired +feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: + + "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. + I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The + cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's + everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, + + "BERTIE. + + "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" + +Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't +have got the confounded thing on to the second page. + +Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: + + "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving + me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems + more wonderful every day. + + "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are + magnificent!" + +Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an +authority. + + "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other + night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new + place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie + Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie + Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks + did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was + there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The + show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. + + "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" + +And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic +temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie +who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a +punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's +no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in +and congratulated him. + +"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell +you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." + +"It's just a knack, sir." + +"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, +what?" + +"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. + +And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to +say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month +after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old +bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence +like a bomb. + +It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices +that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It +was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. + +"Miss Rockmetteller!" + +And in came a large, solid female. + +The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt +much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd +come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that +it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I +stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an +attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should +have been rallying round the young master, it was now. + +Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, +except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as +a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if +put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly +regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor +old Rocky had been pulling on her. + +"Good afternoon," I managed to say. + +"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" + +"Er--no." + +"Mr. Fred Stone?" + +"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie +Wooster." + +She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean +nothing in her life. + +"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" + +She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I +couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. + +There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the +respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak +without having been spoken to. + +"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party +in the afternoon." + +"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he +say when he would be back?" + +"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in +returning." + +He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer +her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It +made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended +to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, +has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails +to make my spine curl. + +"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of +Rockmetteller's?" + +"Oh, yes, rather!" + +She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. + +"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your +own!" + +I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the +power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing +host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, +mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered +my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously +looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come +to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. + +At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being +about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old +stand-by. + +"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. + +"Tea?" + +She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. + +"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit +of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you +know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." + +I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the +evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. + +"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" + +I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve +centres had had the deuce of a shock. + +"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put +that into her head?" + +Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. + +"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my +suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from +this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good +central residence in the city." + +I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. + +"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an +intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about +here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." + +"Yes, sir." + +"It's pretty rotten, you know." + +"Most disturbing, sir." + +"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got +to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the +tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come +up by the next train." + +"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message +and dispatching it by the lift attendant." + +"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" + +"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. +Thank you." + +I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still +bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a +hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There +was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I +suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. + +"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful +silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. + +"What is a surprise?" + +"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." + +She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. + +"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. + +Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. + +"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" + +Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad +to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for +one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool +about with I felt happier. + +"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. + +It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal +more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her +out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. + +"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me +to drink this stuff?" + +"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." + +"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" + +"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." + +"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" + +I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way +that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was +brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had +had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. + +Conversation languished again after that. + +Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you +can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, +especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. + +"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. + +"At which hotel?" + +"The hotel you're staying at." + +"I am not staying at an hotel." + +"Stopping with friends--what?" + +"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." + +I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. + +"What! Here?" I gurgled. + +"Certainly! Where else should I go?" + +The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't +see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't +Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because +she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in +the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock +and produce some results when she spoke again. + +"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I +wish to lie down." + +"Your nephew's man-servant?" + +"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile +ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish +to be alone with me when he returns." + +I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for +me. I crept into Jeeves's den. + +"Jeeves!" I whispered. + +"Sir?" + +"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." + +"Very good, sir." + +"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, +and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and +keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, +and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants +you to prepare her bed." + +He looked wounded. + +"It is hardly my place, sir----" + +"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to +that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and +have to go to an hotel, what?" + +"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for +clothes?" + +"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag +when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" + +"I will endeavour to do so, sir." + +"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd +where I am when he gets here." + +"Very good, sir." + +I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. +The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive +chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. + +"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +And I staggered out. + + * * * * * + +You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher +Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he +has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, +you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more +sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's +misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. + +As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white +tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole +squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to +look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural +phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, +there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own +clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the +morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I +mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful +privations the poor have to stick. + +I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. +Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't +make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what +somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. + +I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but +nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go +on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the +hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've +felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as +if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I +should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang +I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end +of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. + +It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. + +"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" + +"Where are you speaking from?" + +"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a +fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a +friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life +written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and +I'm nearly crazy." + +"Tell me all, old top," I said. + +"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the +river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of +thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was +just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when +about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There +are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder +than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram +arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of +absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two +miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top +of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. +And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of +yours." + +I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky +was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. + +"You'll ruin them!" + +"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles +seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to +get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're +about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. +I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't +breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out +and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by +now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure +Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I +dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could +I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even +to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She +keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's +simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting +two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to +think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me +into it." + +"Me! What do you mean?" + +"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested +leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that +did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me +about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where +she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of +New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled +herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some +miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! +It's got to end!" + +"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" + +"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of +help that is!" + +"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is +for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a +lot of money." + +"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" + +"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying +all the expenses now, isn't she?" + +"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the +lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no +necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's +simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've +examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver +lining it's some little dissembler!" + +"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what +I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get +back to the flat." + +"Don't come near the flat." + +"But it's my own flat." + +"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you +did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said +she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless +and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget +it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. +Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated +noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. + +"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your +personal belongings." + +He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. + +"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" + +"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is +a remarkably alert lady." + +"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" + +"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my +notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic +conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour +to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." + +"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." + +"We must hope for the best, sir." + +"Can't you think of anything to do?" + +"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far +without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the +light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." + +"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" + +"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the +tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case +and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." + +"You understate it, Jeeves." + +He gazed meditatively out of the window. + +"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine +who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are +much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great +city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever +the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and +spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has +broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable +her to gratify this desire." + +"I love to have these little chats with you about your female +relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me +down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got +to do with my trouble." + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on +the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I +should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." + +Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. + + * * * * * + +I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a +habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit +them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and +sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, +and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in +it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you +might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of +Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at +least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. +What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets +once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. + +New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up +just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks +began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at +Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except +the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the +ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to +see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled +for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for +myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under +the strain. + +It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took +it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to +surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless +spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I +had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the +impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York +night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a +cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the +shutters. + +The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that +I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on +the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort +of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the +chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without +disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the +proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had +helped a bit. + +For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his +aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in +again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were +something the management ought to be complained to about. + +"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, +"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good +turn if you asked me?" + +"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. + +"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest +of the evening." + +Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. + +"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" + +"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to +divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that +for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't +understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A +few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know +fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt +Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect +has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to +be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a +nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the +love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." + +I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was +sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had +lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore +Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about +rather unpleasant things. + +"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. + +"I have." + +There was something in her eye that seemed to say: + +"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" + +"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. + +And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, +bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and +then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this +wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light +of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had +gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged +home with ropes. + +It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. + +"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" + +I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't +anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with +the woman, so I went along. + +Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the +feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A +massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, +though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his +best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. + +I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his +lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something +told me that I was about to need him. + +The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the +decanter. + +"Say when, Bertie." + +"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. + +I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye +of one who sees it coming. + +"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it +there. + +"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see +a young man going to perdition!" + +Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the +whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. + +"Eh?" he said, blinking. + +The aunt proceeded. + +"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But +now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder +at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you +into contact with this wicked city." + +I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a +look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his +feelings. + +"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go +to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing +Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." + +"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. + +You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and +you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to +understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. +I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off +to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front +of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. + +The aunt gave me a withering up and down. + +"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp +having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing +men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would +have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. +He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque +phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I +first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How +often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! + +"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; +so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked +your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little +intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he +did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square +Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a +seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I +discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle +of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many +people, so I remained." + +She gulped. + +"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. +Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the +sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I +feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in +a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me +New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of +sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people +should be in bed. + +"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to +drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more +sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient +revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed +right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could +have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you +must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen +that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you +to dance in those places of wickedness?" + +Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. + +"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." + +"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is +not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. +You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find +that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour +and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, +Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the +struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" + +I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused +dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him +the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being +cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let +go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. + +"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" + +"Yes." + +"Not to live in the country?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller." + +"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New +York?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there +can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will +you--for my sake?" + +Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement +from that table. + +"I will!" he said. + + * * * * * + +"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying +in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just +come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour +before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was +the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like +home--what?" + +"Very true, sir." + +"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +I lit another cigarette. + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were +baffled." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? +It was pure genius!" + +"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I +was thinking of my aunt, sir." + +"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" + +"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks +coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always +found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her +mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might +prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." + +I was stunned by the man's resource. + +"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, +Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat +a lot of fish, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born +that way there's no use worrying." + +"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I +should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you +a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the +red domino pattern instead, sir." + +"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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Wodehouse + +Posting Date: February 18, 2012 [EBook #8164] +Release Date: May, 2005 +[This file was first posted on June 24, 2003] +Last Updated: August 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MAN JEEVES *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +MY MAN JEEVES + + + + +BY P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1919 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + +ABSENT TREATMENT + +HELPING FREDDIE + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + + + +LEAVE IT TO JEEVES + + +Jeeves--my man, you know--is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. +Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's +like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements +at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know +the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train +for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to +think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're +right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of +omniscience. + +As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond +Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I +felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address +of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the +hour. + +"Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one +of Mr. Byng's." + +"Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." + +"What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." + +"Unsuitable for you, sir." + +Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came +home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I +nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a +music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in +absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and +that's all there is to it. + +But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, +though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows +everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." +I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, +red-hot tabasco. + +"Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good +turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on +Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'" + +He shook his head. + +"I'd rather not, sir." + +"But it's the straight goods. I'm going to put my shirt on him." + +"I do not recommend it, sir. The animal is not intended to win. Second +place is what the stable is after." + +Perfect piffle, I thought, of course. How the deuce could Jeeves know +anything about it? Still, you know what happened. Wonderchild led till +he was breathing on the wire, and then Banana Fritter came along and +nosed him out. I went straight home and rang for Jeeves. + +"After this," I said, "not another step for me without your advice. +From now on consider yourself the brains of the establishment." + +"Very good, sir. I shall endeavour to give satisfaction." + +And he has, by Jove! I'm a bit short on brain myself; the old bean +would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, +don't you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with +Jeeves, and I'm game to advise any one about anything. And that's why, +when Bruce Corcoran came to me with his troubles, my first act was to +ring the bell and put it up to the lad with the bulging forehead. + +"Leave it to Jeeves," I said. + +I first got to know Corky when I came to New York. He was a pal of my +cousin Gussie, who was in with a lot of people down Washington Square +way. I don't know if I ever told you about it, but the reason why I +left England was because I was sent over by my Aunt Agatha to try to +stop young Gussie marrying a girl on the vaudeville stage, and I got +the whole thing so mixed up that I decided that it would be a sound +scheme for me to stop on in America for a bit instead of going back and +having long cosy chats about the thing with aunt. So I sent Jeeves out +to find a decent apartment, and settled down for a bit of exile. I'm +bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody +was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going +on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine. Chappies introduced +me to other chappies, and so on and so forth, and it wasn't long before +I knew squads of the right sort, some who rolled in dollars in houses +up by the Park, and others who lived with the gas turned down mostly +around Washington Square--artists and writers and so forth. Brainy +coves. + +Corky was one of the artists. A portrait-painter, he called himself, +but he hadn't painted any portraits. He was sitting on the side-lines +with a blanket over his shoulders, waiting for a chance to get into the +game. You see, the catch about portrait-painting--I've looked into the +thing a bit--is that you can't start painting portraits till people +come along and ask you to, and they won't come and ask you to until +you've painted a lot first. This makes it kind of difficult for a +chappie. Corky managed to get along by drawing an occasional picture +for the comic papers--he had rather a gift for funny stuff when he got +a good idea--and doing bedsteads and chairs and things for the +advertisements. His principal source of income, however, was derived +from biting the ear of a rich uncle--one Alexander Worple, who was in +the jute business. I'm a bit foggy as to what jute is, but it's +apparently something the populace is pretty keen on, for Mr. Worple had +made quite an indecently large stack out of it. + +Now, a great many fellows think that having a rich uncle is a pretty +soft snap: but, according to Corky, such is not the case. Corky's uncle +was a robust sort of cove, who looked like living for ever. He was +fifty-one, and it seemed as if he might go to par. It was not this, +however, that distressed poor old Corky, for he was not bigoted and had +no objection to the man going on living. What Corky kicked at was the +way the above Worple used to harry him. + +Corky's uncle, you see, didn't want him to be an artist. He didn't +think he had any talent in that direction. He was always urging him to +chuck Art and go into the jute business and start at the bottom and +work his way up. Jute had apparently become a sort of obsession with +him. He seemed to attach almost a spiritual importance to it. And what +Corky said was that, while he didn't know what they did at the bottom +of the jute business, instinct told him that it was something too +beastly for words. Corky, moreover, believed in his future as an +artist. Some day, he said, he was going to make a hit. Meanwhile, by +using the utmost tact and persuasiveness, he was inducing his uncle to +cough up very grudgingly a small quarterly allowance. + +He wouldn't have got this if his uncle hadn't had a hobby. Mr. Worple +was peculiar in this respect. As a rule, from what I've observed, the +American captain of industry doesn't do anything out of business hours. +When he has put the cat out and locked up the office for the night, he +just relapses into a state of coma from which he emerges only to start +being a captain of industry again. But Mr. Worple in his spare time was +what is known as an ornithologist. He had written a book called +_American Birds_, and was writing another, to be called _More +American Birds_. When he had finished that, the presumption was that +he would begin a third, and keep on till the supply of American birds +gave out. Corky used to go to him about once every three months and let +him talk about American birds. Apparently you could do what you liked +with old Worple if you gave him his head first on his pet subject, so +these little chats used to make Corky's allowance all right for the +time being. But it was pretty rotten for the poor chap. There was the +frightful suspense, you see, and, apart from that, birds, except when +broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff. + +To complete the character-study of Mr. Worple, he was a man of +extremely uncertain temper, and his general tendency was to think that +Corky was a poor chump and that whatever step he took in any direction +on his own account, was just another proof of his innate idiocy. I +should imagine Jeeves feels very much the same about me. + +So when Corky trickled into my apartment one afternoon, shooing a girl +in front of him, and said, "Bertie, I want you to meet my fiancee, Miss +Singer," the aspect of the matter which hit me first was precisely the +one which he had come to consult me about. The very first words I spoke +were, "Corky, how about your uncle?" + +The poor chap gave one of those mirthless laughs. He was looking +anxious and worried, like a man who has done the murder all right but +can't think what the deuce to do with the body. + +"We're so scared, Mr. Wooster," said the girl. "We were hoping that you +might suggest a way of breaking it to him." + +Muriel Singer was one of those very quiet, appealing girls who have a +way of looking at you with their big eyes as if they thought you were +the greatest thing on earth and wondered that you hadn't got on to it +yet yourself. She sat there in a sort of shrinking way, looking at me +as if she were saying to herself, "Oh, I do hope this great strong man +isn't going to hurt me." She gave a fellow a protective kind of +feeling, made him want to stroke her hand and say, "There, there, +little one!" or words to that effect. She made me feel that there was +nothing I wouldn't do for her. She was rather like one of those +innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your +system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out +to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to +tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, +you will knock his head off. What I mean is, she made me feel alert and +dashing, like a jolly old knight-errant or something of that kind. I +felt that I was with her in this thing to the limit. + +"I don't see why your uncle shouldn't be most awfully bucked," I said +to Corky. "He will think Miss Singer the ideal wife for you." + +Corky declined to cheer up. + +"You don't know him. Even if he did like Muriel he wouldn't admit it. +That's the sort of pig-headed guy he is. It would be a matter of +principle with him to kick. All he would consider would be that I had +gone and taken an important step without asking his advice, and he +would raise Cain automatically. He's always done it." + +I strained the old bean to meet this emergency. + +"You want to work it so that he makes Miss Singer's acquaintance +without knowing that you know her. Then you come along----" + +"But how can I work it that way?" + +I saw his point. That was the catch. + +"There's only one thing to do," I said. + +"What's that?" + +"Leave it to Jeeves." + +And I rang the bell. + +"Sir?" said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy +things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very +seldom see him come into a room. He's like one of those weird chappies +in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in +a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they +want them. I've got a cousin who's what they call a Theosophist, and he +says he's often nearly worked the thing himself, but couldn't quite +bring it off, probably owing to having fed in his boyhood on the flesh +of animals slain in anger and pie. + +The moment I saw the man standing there, registering respectful +attention, a weight seemed to roll off my mind. I felt like a lost +child who spots his father in the offing. There was something about him +that gave me confidence. + +Jeeves is a tallish man, with one of those dark, shrewd faces. His eye +gleams with the light of pure intelligence. + +"Jeeves, we want your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +I boiled down Corky's painful case into a few well-chosen words. + +"So you see what it amount to, Jeeves. We want you to suggest some way +by which Mr. Worple can make Miss Singer's acquaintance without getting +on to the fact that Mr. Corcoran already knows her. Understand?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, try to think of something." + +"I have thought of something already, sir." + +"You have!" + +"The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may +seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial +outlay." + +"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an +idea, but it's going to cost a bit." + +Naturally the poor chap's face dropped, for this seemed to dish the +whole thing. But I was still under the influence of the girl's melting +gaze, and I saw that this was where I started in as a knight-errant. + +"You can count on me for all that sort of thing, Corky," I said. "Only +too glad. Carry on, Jeeves." + +"I would suggest, sir, that Mr. Corcoran take advantage of Mr. Worple's +attachment to ornithology." + +"How on earth did you know that he was fond of birds?" + +"It is the way these New York apartments are constructed, sir. Quite +unlike our London houses. The partitions between the rooms are of the +flimsiest nature. With no wish to overhear, I have sometimes heard Mr. +Corcoran expressing himself with a generous strength on the subject I +have mentioned." + +"Oh! Well?" + +"Why should not the young lady write a small volume, to be entitled--let +us say--_The Children's Book of American Birds_, and dedicate it +to Mr. Worple! A limited edition could be published at your expense, +sir, and a great deal of the book would, of course, be given over to +eulogistic remarks concerning Mr. Worple's own larger treatise on the +same subject. I should recommend the dispatching of a presentation copy +to Mr. Worple, immediately on publication, accompanied by a letter in +which the young lady asks to be allowed to make the acquaintance of one +to whom she owes so much. This would, I fancy, produce the desired +result, but as I say, the expense involved would be considerable." + +I felt like the proprietor of a performing dog on the vaudeville stage +when the tyke has just pulled off his trick without a hitch. I had +betted on Jeeves all along, and I had known that he wouldn't let me +down. It beats me sometimes why a man with his genius is satisfied to +hang around pressing my clothes and what-not. If I had half Jeeves's +brain, I should have a stab at being Prime Minister or something. + +"Jeeves," I said, "that is absolutely ripping! One of your very best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +The girl made an objection. + +"But I'm sure I couldn't write a book about anything. I can't even +write good letters." + +"Muriel's talents," said Corky, with a little cough "lie more in the +direction of the drama, Bertie. I didn't mention it before, but one of +our reasons for being a trifle nervous as to how Uncle Alexander will +receive the news is that Muriel is in the chorus of that show _Choose +your Exit_ at the Manhattan. It's absurdly unreasonable, but we both +feel that that fact might increase Uncle Alexander's natural tendency +to kick like a steer." + +I saw what he meant. Goodness knows there was fuss enough in our family +when I tried to marry into musical comedy a few years ago. And the +recollection of my Aunt Agatha's attitude in the matter of Gussie and +the vaudeville girl was still fresh in my mind. I don't know why it +is--one of these psychology sharps could explain it, I suppose--but +uncles and aunts, as a class, are always dead against the drama, +legitimate or otherwise. They don't seem able to stick it at any price. + +But Jeeves had a solution, of course. + +"I fancy it would be a simple matter, sir, to find some impecunious +author who would be glad to do the actual composition of the volume for +a small fee. It is only necessary that the young lady's name should +appear on the title page." + +"That's true," said Corky. "Sam Patterson would do it for a hundred +dollars. He writes a novelette, three short stories, and ten thousand +words of a serial for one of the all-fiction magazines under different +names every month. A little thing like this would be nothing to him. +I'll get after him right away." + +"Fine!" + +"Will that be all, sir?" said Jeeves. "Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +I always used to think that publishers had to be devilish intelligent +fellows, loaded down with the grey matter; but I've got their number +now. All a publisher has to do is to write cheques at intervals, while +a lot of deserving and industrious chappies rally round and do the real +work. I know, because I've been one myself. I simply sat tight in the +old apartment with a fountain-pen, and in due season a topping, shiny +book came along. + +I happened to be down at Corky's place when the first copies of _The +Children's Book of American Birds_ bobbed up. Muriel Singer was +there, and we were talking of things in general when there was a bang +at the door and the parcel was delivered. + +It was certainly some book. It had a red cover with a fowl of some +species on it, and underneath the girl's name in gold letters. I opened +a copy at random. + +"Often of a spring morning," it said at the top of page twenty-one, "as +you wander through the fields, you will hear the sweet-toned, +carelessly flowing warble of the purple finch linnet. When you are +older you must read all about him in Mr. Alexander Worple's wonderful +book--_American Birds_." + +You see. A boost for the uncle right away. And only a few pages later +there he was in the limelight again in connection with the yellow-billed +cuckoo. It was great stuff. The more I read, the more I admired the chap +who had written it and Jeeves's genius in putting us on to the wheeze. +I didn't see how the uncle could fail to drop. You can't call a chap the +world's greatest authority on the yellow-billed cuckoo without rousing a +certain disposition towards chumminess in him. + +"It's a cert!" I said. + +"An absolute cinch!" said Corky. + +And a day or two later he meandered up the Avenue to my apartment to +tell me that all was well. The uncle had written Muriel a letter so +dripping with the milk of human kindness that if he hadn't known Mr. +Worple's handwriting Corky would have refused to believe him the author +of it. Any time it suited Miss Singer to call, said the uncle, he would +be delighted to make her acquaintance. + +Shortly after this I had to go out of town. Divers sound sportsmen had +invited me to pay visits to their country places, and it wasn't for +several months that I settled down in the city again. I had been +wondering a lot, of course, about Corky, whether it all turned out +right, and so forth, and my first evening in New York, happening to pop +into a quiet sort of little restaurant which I go to when I don't feel +inclined for the bright lights, I found Muriel Singer there, sitting by +herself at a table near the door. Corky, I took it, was out +telephoning. I went up and passed the time of day. + +"Well, well, well, what?" I said. + +"Why, Mr. Wooster! How do you do?" + +"Corky around?" + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?" + +"Oh, I didn't understand. No, I'm not waiting for him." + +It seemed to me that there was a sort of something in her voice, a +kind of thingummy, you know. + +"I say, you haven't had a row with Corky, have you?" + +"A row?" + +"A spat, don't you know--little misunderstanding--faults on both +sides--er--and all that sort of thing." + +"Why, whatever makes you think that?" + +"Oh, well, as it were, what? What I mean is--I thought you usually +dined with him before you went to the theatre." + +"I've left the stage now." + +Suddenly the whole thing dawned on me. I had forgotten what a long time +I had been away. + +"Why, of course, I see now! You're married!" + +"Yes." + +"How perfectly topping! I wish you all kinds of happiness." + +"Thank you, so much. Oh Alexander," she said, looking past me, "this is +a friend of mine--Mr. Wooster." + +I spun round. A chappie with a lot of stiff grey hair and a red sort of +healthy face was standing there. Rather a formidable Johnnie, he +looked, though quite peaceful at the moment. + +"I want you to meet my husband, Mr. Wooster. Mr. Wooster is a friend of +Bruce's, Alexander." + +The old boy grasped my hand warmly, and that was all that kept me from +hitting the floor in a heap. The place was rocking. Absolutely. + +"So you know my nephew, Mr. Wooster," I heard him say. "I wish you +would try to knock a little sense into him and make him quit this +playing at painting. But I have an idea that he is steadying down. I +noticed it first that night he came to dinner with us, my dear, to be +introduced to you. He seemed altogether quieter and more serious. +Something seemed to have sobered him. Perhaps you will give us the +pleasure of your company at dinner to-night, Mr. Wooster? Or have you +dined?" + +I said I had. What I needed then was air, not dinner. I felt that I +wanted to get into the open and think this thing out. + +When I reached my apartment I heard Jeeves moving about in his lair. I +called him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "now is the time for all good men to come to the aid +of the party. A stiff b.-and-s. first of all, and then I've a bit of +news for you." + +He came back with a tray and a long glass. + +"Better have one yourself, Jeeves. You'll need it." + +"Later on, perhaps, thank you, sir." + +"All right. Please yourself. But you're going to get a shock. You +remember my friend, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And the girl who was to slide gracefully into his uncle's esteem by +writing the book on birds?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Well, she's slid. She's married the uncle." + +He took it without blinking. You can't rattle Jeeves. + +"That was always a development to be feared, sir." + +"You don't mean to tell me that you were expecting it?" + +"It crossed my mind as a possibility." + +"Did it, by Jove! Well, I think, you might have warned us!" + +"I hardly liked to take the liberty, sir." + +Of course, as I saw after I had had a bite to eat and was in a calmer +frame of mind, what had happened wasn't my fault, if you come down to +it. I couldn't be expected to foresee that the scheme, in itself a +cracker-jack, would skid into the ditch as it had done; but all the +same I'm bound to admit that I didn't relish the idea of meeting Corky +again until time, the great healer, had been able to get in a bit of +soothing work. I cut Washington Square out absolutely for the next few +months. I gave it the complete miss-in-baulk. And then, just when I was +beginning to think I might safely pop down in that direction and gather +up the dropped threads, so to speak, time, instead of working the +healing wheeze, went and pulled the most awful bone and put the lid on +it. Opening the paper one morning, I read that Mrs. Alexander Worple +had presented her husband with a son and heir. + +I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to +touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself. I was bowled +over. Absolutely. It was the limit. + +I hardly knew what to do. I wanted, of course, to rush down to +Washington Square and grip the poor blighter silently by the hand; and +then, thinking it over, I hadn't the nerve. Absent treatment seemed the +touch. I gave it him in waves. + +But after a month or so I began to hesitate again. It struck me that it +was playing it a bit low-down on the poor chap, avoiding him like this +just when he probably wanted his pals to surge round him most. I +pictured him sitting in his lonely studio with no company but his +bitter thoughts, and the pathos of it got me to such an extent that I +bounded straight into a taxi and told the driver to go all out for the +studio. + +I rushed in, and there was Corky, hunched up at the easel, painting +away, while on the model throne sat a severe-looking female of middle +age, holding a baby. + +A fellow has to be ready for that sort of thing. + +"Oh, ah!" I said, and started to back out. + +Corky looked over his shoulder. + +"Halloa, Bertie. Don't go. We're just finishing for the day. That will +be all this afternoon," he said to the nurse, who got up with the baby +and decanted it into a perambulator which was standing in the fairway. + +"At the same hour to-morrow, Mr. Corcoran?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." + +Corky stood there, looking at the door, and then he turned to me and +began to get it off his chest. Fortunately, he seemed to take it for +granted that I knew all about what had happened, so it wasn't as +awkward as it might have been. + +"It's my uncle's idea," he said. "Muriel doesn't know about it yet. The +portrait's to be a surprise for her on her birthday. The nurse takes +the kid out ostensibly to get a breather, and they beat it down here. +If you want an instance of the irony of fate, Bertie, get acquainted +with this. Here's the first commission I have ever had to paint a +portrait, and the sitter is that human poached egg that has butted in +and bounced me out of my inheritance. Can you beat it! I call it +rubbing the thing in to expect me to spend my afternoons gazing into +the ugly face of a little brat who to all intents and purposes has hit +me behind the ear with a blackjack and swiped all I possess. I can't +refuse to paint the portrait because if I did my uncle would stop my +allowance; yet every time I look up and catch that kid's vacant eye, I +suffer agonies. I tell you, Bertie, sometimes when he gives me a +patronizing glance and then turns away and is sick, as if it revolted +him to look at me, I come within an ace of occupying the entire front +page of the evening papers as the latest murder sensation. There are +moments when I can almost see the headlines: 'Promising Young Artist +Beans Baby With Axe.'" + +I patted his shoulder silently. My sympathy for the poor old scout was +too deep for words. + +I kept away from the studio for some time after that, because it didn't +seem right to me to intrude on the poor chappie's sorrow. Besides, I'm +bound to say that nurse intimidated me. She reminded me so infernally +of Aunt Agatha. She was the same gimlet-eyed type. + +But one afternoon Corky called me on the 'phone. + +"Bertie." + +"Halloa?" + +"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" + +"Nothing special." + +"You couldn't come down here, could you?" + +"What's the trouble? Anything up?" + +"I've finished the portrait." + +"Good boy! Stout work!" + +"Yes." His voice sounded rather doubtful. "The fact is, Bertie, it +doesn't look quite right to me. There's something about it--My uncle's +coming in half an hour to inspect it, and--I don't know why it is, but +I kind of feel I'd like your moral support!" + +I began to see that I was letting myself in for something. The +sympathetic co-operation of Jeeves seemed to me to be indicated. + +"You think he'll cut up rough?" + +"He may." + +I threw my mind back to the red-faced chappie I had met at the +restaurant, and tried to picture him cutting up rough. It was only too +easy. I spoke to Corky firmly on the telephone. + +"I'll come," I said. + +"Good!" + +"But only if I may bring Jeeves!" + +"Why Jeeves? What's Jeeves got to do with it? Who wants Jeeves? Jeeves +is the fool who suggested the scheme that has led----" + +"Listen, Corky, old top! If you think I am going to face that uncle of +yours without Jeeves's support, you're mistaken. I'd sooner go into a +den of wild beasts and bite a lion on the back of the neck." + +"Oh, all right," said Corky. Not cordially, but he said it; so I rang +for Jeeves, and explained the situation. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +That's the sort of chap he is. You can't rattle him. + +We found Corky near the door, looking at the picture, with one hand up +in a defensive sort of way, as if he thought it might swing on him. + +"Stand right where you are, Bertie," he said, without moving. "Now, +tell me honestly, how does it strike you?" + +The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good +look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I +went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite +so bad from there. + +"Well?" said Corky, anxiously. + +I hesitated a bit. + +"Of course, old man, I only saw the kid once, and then only for a +moment, but--but it _was_ an ugly sort of kid, wasn't it, if I +remember rightly?" + +"As ugly as that?" + +I looked again, and honesty compelled me to be frank. + +"I don't see how it could have been, old chap." + +Poor old Corky ran his fingers through his hair in a temperamental sort +of way. He groaned. + +"You're right quite, Bertie. Something's gone wrong with the darned +thing. My private impression is that, without knowing it, I've worked +that stunt that Sargent and those fellows pull--painting the soul of +the sitter. I've got through the mere outward appearance, and have put +the child's soul on canvas." + +"But could a child of that age have a soul like that? I don't see how +he could have managed it in the time. What do you think, Jeeves?" + +"I doubt it, sir." + +"It--it sorts of leers at you, doesn't it?" + +"You've noticed that, too?" said Corky. + +"I don't see how one could help noticing." + +"All I tried to do was to give the little brute a cheerful expression. +But, as it worked out, he looks positively dissipated." + +"Just what I was going to suggest, old man. He looks as if he were in +the middle of a colossal spree, and enjoying every minute of it. Don't +you think so, Jeeves?" + +"He has a decidedly inebriated air, sir." + +Corky was starting to say something when the door opened, and the uncle +came in. + +For about three seconds all was joy, jollity, and goodwill. The old boy +shook hands with me, slapped Corky on the back, said that he didn't +think he had ever seen such a fine day, and whacked his leg with his +stick. Jeeves had projected himself into the background, and he didn't +notice him. + +"Well, Bruce, my boy; so the portrait is really finished, is it--really +finished? Well, bring it out. Let's have a look at it. This will be a +wonderful surprise for your aunt. Where is it? Let's----" + +And then he got it--suddenly, when he wasn't set for the punch; and he +rocked back on his heels. + +"Oosh!" he exclaimed. And for perhaps a minute there was one of the +scaliest silences I've ever run up against. + +"Is this a practical joke?" he said at last, in a way that set about +sixteen draughts cutting through the room at once. + +I thought it was up to me to rally round old Corky. + +"You want to stand a bit farther away from it," I said. + +"You're perfectly right!" he snorted. "I do! I want to stand so far +away from it that I can't see the thing with a telescope!" He turned on +Corky like an untamed tiger of the jungle who has just located a chunk +of meat. "And this--this--is what you have been wasting your time and +my money for all these years! A painter! I wouldn't let you paint a +house of mine! I gave you this commission, thinking that you were a +competent worker, and this--this--this extract from a comic coloured +supplement is the result!" He swung towards the door, lashing his tail +and growling to himself. "This ends it! If you wish to continue this +foolery of pretending to be an artist because you want an excuse for +idleness, please yourself. But let me tell you this. Unless you report +at my office on Monday morning, prepared to abandon all this idiocy and +start in at the bottom of the business to work your way up, as you +should have done half a dozen years ago, not another cent--not another +cent--not another--Boosh!" + +Then the door closed, and he was no longer with us. And I crawled out +of the bombproof shelter. + +"Corky, old top!" I whispered faintly. + +Corky was standing staring at the picture. His face was set. There was +a hunted look in his eye. + +"Well, that finishes it!" he muttered brokenly. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Do? What can I do? I can't stick on here if he cuts off supplies. You +heard what he said. I shall have to go to the office on Monday." + +I couldn't think of a thing to say. I knew exactly how he felt about +the office. I don't know when I've been so infernally uncomfortable. It +was like hanging round trying to make conversation to a pal who's just +been sentenced to twenty years in quod. + +And then a soothing voice broke the silence. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir!" + +It was Jeeves. He had slid from the shadows and was gazing gravely at +the picture. Upon my word, I can't give you a better idea of the +shattering effect of Corky's uncle Alexander when in action than by +saying that he had absolutely made me forget for the moment that Jeeves +was there. + +"I wonder if I have ever happened to mention to you, sir, a Mr. Digby +Thistleton, with whom I was once in service? Perhaps you have met him? +He was a financier. He is now Lord Bridgnorth. It was a favourite +saying of his that there is always a way. The first time I heard him +use the expression was after the failure of a patent depilatory which +he promoted." + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth are you talking about?" + +"I mentioned Mr. Thistleton, sir, because his was in some respects +a parallel case to the present one. His depilatory failed, but he +did not despair. He put it on the market again under the name of +Hair-o, guaranteed to produce a full crop of hair in a few months. +It was advertised, if you remember, sir, by a humorous picture of a +billiard-ball, before and after taking, and made such a substantial +fortune that Mr. Thistleton was soon afterwards elevated to the peerage +for services to his Party. It seems to me that, if Mr. Corcoran looks +into the matter, he will find, like Mr. Thistleton, that there is always +a way. Mr. Worple himself suggested the solution of the difficulty. In +the heat of the moment he compared the portrait to an extract from a +coloured comic supplement. I consider the suggestion a very valuable +one, sir. Mr. Corcoran's portrait may not have pleased Mr. Worple as a +likeness of his only child, but I have no doubt that editors would gladly +consider it as a foundation for a series of humorous drawings. If Mr. +Corcoran will allow me to make the suggestion, his talent has always been +for the humorous. There is something about this picture--something bold +and vigorous, which arrests the attention. I feel sure it would be highly +popular." + +Corky was glaring at the picture, and making a sort of dry, sucking +noise with his mouth. He seemed completely overwrought. + +And then suddenly he began to laugh in a wild way. + +"Corky, old man!" I said, massaging him tenderly. I feared the poor +blighter was hysterical. + +He began to stagger about all over the floor. + +"He's right! The man's absolutely right! Jeeves, you're a life-saver! +You've hit on the greatest idea of the age! Report at the office on +Monday! Start at the bottom of the business! I'll buy the business if I +feel like it. I know the man who runs the comic section of the +_Sunday Star_. He'll eat this thing. He was telling me only the +other day how hard it was to get a good new series. He'll give me +anything I ask for a real winner like this. I've got a gold-mine. +Where's my hat? I've got an income for life! Where's that confounded +hat? Lend me a fiver, Bertie. I want to take a taxi down to Park Row!" + +Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal +muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to +smiling. + +"If I might make the suggestion, Mr. Corcoran--for a title of the +series which you have in mind--'The Adventures of Baby Blobbs.'" + +Corky and I looked at the picture, then at each other in an awed way. +Jeeves was right. There could be no other title. + +"Jeeves," I said. It was a few weeks later, and I had just finished +looking at the comic section of the _Sunday Star_. "I'm an +optimist. I always have been. The older I get, the more I agree with +Shakespeare and those poet Johnnies about it always being darkest +before the dawn and there's a silver lining and what you lose on the +swings you make up on the roundabouts. Look at Mr. Corcoran, for +instance. There was a fellow, one would have said, clear up to the +eyebrows in the soup. To all appearances he had got it right in the +neck. Yet look at him now. Have you seen these pictures?" + +"I took the liberty of glancing at them before bringing them to you, +sir. Extremely diverting." + +"They have made a big hit, you know." + +"I anticipated it, sir." + +I leaned back against the pillows. + +"You know, Jeeves, you're a genius. You ought to be drawing a +commission on these things." + +"I have nothing to complain of in that respect, sir. Mr. Corcoran has +been most generous. I am putting out the brown suit, sir." + +"No, I think I'll wear the blue with the faint red stripe." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"But I rather fancy myself in it." + +"Not the blue with the faint red stripe, sir." + +"Oh, all right, have it your own way." + +"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." + +Of course, I know it's as bad as being henpecked; but then Jeeves is +always right. You've got to consider that, you know. What? + + + + +JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's +Shakespeare--or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad--who says that +it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and +more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up +behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right. +It's absolutely that way with me. Take, for instance, the fairly rummy +matter of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment before they turned +up, I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was. + +It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from +under the cold shower, feeling like a two-year-old. As a matter of +fact, I was especially bucked just then because the day before I had +asserted myself with Jeeves--absolutely asserted myself, don't you +know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming +a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn't so much +mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves's +judgment about suits is sound. But I as near as a toucher rebelled when +he wouldn't let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like +a couple of brothers. And when he tried to tread on me like a worm in +the matter of a hat, I jolly well put my foot down and showed him who +was who. It's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but +the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre--as worn by John +Drew--when I had set my heart on the Country Gentleman--as worn by +another famous actor chappie--and the end of the matter was that, after +a rather painful scene, I bought the Country Gentleman. So that's how +things stood on this particular morning, and I was feeling kind of +manly and independent. + +Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for +breakfast while I massaged the good old spine with a rough towel and +sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and +opened the door an inch. + +"What ho without there!" + +"Lady Malvern wishes to see you, sir," said Jeeves. + +"Eh?" + +"Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room." + +"Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man," I said, rather severely, for +I bar practical jokes before breakfast. "You know perfectly well +there's no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be +when it's barely ten o'clock yet?" + +"I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean +liner at an early hour this morning." + +This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had +arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at +some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a +foreign shore considerably before eight. + +"Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?" + +"Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir." + +"Is she alone?" + +"Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his +lordship would be her ladyship's son." + +"Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I'll be dressing." + +"Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir." + +"Then lead me to it." + +While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern +could be. It wasn't till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and +was reaching out for the studs that I remembered. + +"I've placed her, Jeeves. She's a pal of my Aunt Agatha." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left +London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on +social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar." + +"Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!" + +"Eh?" + +"Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!" + +It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather +a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work +the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself. + +"What's wrong with this tie? I've seen you give it a nasty look before. +Speak out like a man! What's the matter with it?" + +"Too ornate, sir." + +"Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more." + +"Unsuitable, sir." + +"Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!" + +"Very good, sir." + +Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was +firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into +the sitting-room. + +"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?" + +"Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son, Wilmot, I +think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster." + +Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, overpowering sort of dashed +female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet +from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as +if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing +arm-chairs tight about the hips that season. She had bright, bulging +eyes and a lot of yellow hair, and when she spoke she showed about +fifty-seven front teeth. She was one of those women who kind of numb +a fellow's faculties. She made me feel as if I were ten years old and +had been brought into the drawing-room in my Sunday clothes to say +how-d'you-do. Altogether by no means the sort of thing a chappie would +wish to find in his sitting-room before breakfast. + +Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. +He had the same yellow hair as his mother, but he wore it plastered +down and parted in the middle. His eyes bulged, too, but they weren't +bright. They were a dull grey with pink rims. His chin gave up the +struggle about half-way down, and he didn't appear to have any +eyelashes. A mild, furtive, sheepish sort of blighter, in short. + +"Awfully glad to see you," I said. "So you've popped over, eh? Making a +long stay in America?" + +"About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure +and call on you." + +I was glad to hear this, as it showed that Aunt Agatha was beginning to +come round a bit. There had been some unpleasantness a year before, +when she had sent me over to New York to disentangle my Cousin Gussie +from the clutches of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you +that by the time I had finished my operations, Gussie had not only +married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, +you'll understand that Aunt Agatha was upset to no small extent. I +simply hadn't dared go back and face her, and it was a relief to find +that time had healed the wound and all that sort of thing enough to +make her tell her pals to look me up. What I mean is, much as I liked +America, I didn't want to have England barred to me for the rest of my +natural; and, believe me, England is a jolly sight too small for anyone +to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she's really on the warpath. So I +braced on hearing these kind words and smiled genially on the +assemblage. + +"Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be +of assistance to us." + +"Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!" + +"Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little +while." + +I didn't get this for a moment. + +"Put him up? For my clubs?" + +"No, no! Darling Motty is essentially a home bird. Aren't you, Motty +darling?" + +Motty, who was sucking the knob of his stick, uncorked himself. + +"Yes, mother," he said, and corked himself up again. + +"I should not like him to belong to clubs. I mean put him up here. Have +him to live with you while I am away." + +These frightful words trickled out of her like honey. The woman simply +didn't seem to understand the ghastly nature of her proposal. I gave +Motty the swift east-to-west. He was sitting with his mouth nuzzling +the stick, blinking at the wall. The thought of having this planted on +me for an indefinite period appalled me. Absolutely appalled me, don't +you know. I was just starting to say that the shot wasn't on the board +at any price, and that the first sign Motty gave of trying to nestle +into my little home I would yell for the police, when she went on, +rolling placidly over me, as it were. + +There was something about this woman that sapped a chappie's will-power. + +"I am leaving New York by the midday train, as I have to pay a visit to +Sing-Sing prison. I am extremely interested in prison conditions in +America. After that I work my way gradually across to the coast, +visiting the points of interest on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I +am in America principally on business. No doubt you read my book, +_India and the Indians_? My publishers are anxious for me to write +a companion volume on the United States. I shall not be able to spend +more than a month in the country, as I have to get back for the season, +but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my +dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne wrote his _America from Within_ +after a stay of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with +me, but the poor boy gets so sick when he travels by train. I shall +have to pick him up on my return." + +From where I sat I could see Jeeves in the dining-room, laying the +breakfast-table. I wished I could have had a minute with him alone. I +felt certain that he would have been able to think of some way of +putting a stop to this woman. + +"It will be such a relief to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. +Wooster. I know what the temptations of a great city are. Hitherto dear +Motty has been sheltered from them. He has lived quietly with me in the +country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He +will give very little trouble." She talked about the poor blighter as +if he wasn't there. Not that Motty seemed to mind. He had stopped +chewing his walking-stick and was sitting there with his mouth open. +"He is a vegetarian and a teetotaller and is devoted to reading. Give +him a nice book and he will be quite contented." She got up. "Thank you +so much, Mr. Wooster! I don't know what I should have done without your +help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a few of the sights before +my train goes. But I shall have to rely on you for most of my +information about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your eyes open and +take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. +Wooster. I will send Motty back early in the afternoon." + +They went out, and I howled for Jeeves. + +"Jeeves! What about it?" + +"Sir?" + +"What's to be done? You heard it all, didn't you? You were in the +dining-room most of the time. That pill is coming to stay here." + +"Pill, sir?" + +"The excrescence." + +"I beg your pardon, sir?" + +I looked at Jeeves sharply. This sort of thing wasn't like him. It was +as if he were deliberately trying to give me the pip. Then I +understood. The man was really upset about that tie. He was trying to +get his own back. + +"Lord Pershore will be staying here from to-night, Jeeves," I said +coldly. + +"Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir." + +I could have sobbed into the bacon and eggs. That there wasn't any +sympathy to be got out of Jeeves was what put the lid on it. For a +moment I almost weakened and told him to destroy the hat and tie if he +didn't like them, but I pulled myself together again. I was dashed if I +was going to let Jeeves treat me like a bally one-man chain-gang! + +But, what with brooding on Jeeves and brooding on Motty, I was in a +pretty reduced sort of state. The more I examined the situation, the +more blighted it became. There was nothing I could do. If I slung Motty +out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt +Agatha, and I didn't like to think what would happen then. Sooner or +later, I should be wanting to go back to England, and I didn't want to +get there and find Aunt Agatha waiting on the quay for me with a +stuffed eelskin. There was absolutely nothing for it but to put the +fellow up and make the best of it. + +About midday Motty's luggage arrived, and soon afterward a large parcel +of what I took to be nice books. I brightened up a little when I saw +it. It was one of those massive parcels and looked as if it had enough +in it to keep the chappie busy for a year. I felt a trifle more +cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman hat and stuck it on my head, +and gave the pink tie a twist, and reeled out to take a bite of lunch +with one or two of the lads at a neighbouring hostelry; and what with +excellent browsing and sluicing and cheery conversation and what-not, +the afternoon passed quite happily. By dinner-time I had almost +forgotten blighted Motty's existence. + +I dined at the club and looked in at a show afterward, and it wasn't +till fairly late that I got back to the flat. There were no signs of +Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed. + +It seemed rummy to me, though, that the parcel of nice books was still +there with the string and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after +seeing mother off at the station, had decided to call it a day. + +Jeeves came in with the nightly whisky-and-soda. I could tell by the +chappie's manner that he was still upset. + +"Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?" I asked, with reserved hauteur and +what-not. + +"No, sir. His lordship has not yet returned." + +"Not returned? What do you mean?" + +"His lordship came in shortly after six-thirty, and, having dressed, +went out again." + +At this moment there was a noise outside the front door, a sort of +scrabbling noise, as if somebody were trying to paw his way through the +woodwork. Then a sort of thud. + +"Better go and see what that is, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He went out and came back again. + +"If you would not mind stepping this way, sir, I think we might be able +to carry him in." + +"Carry him in?" + +"His lordship is lying on the mat, sir." + +I went to the front door. The man was right. There was Motty huddled up +outside on the floor. He was moaning a bit. + +"He's had some sort of dashed fit," I said. I took another look. +"Jeeves! Someone's been feeding him meat!" + +"Sir?" + +"He's a vegetarian, you know. He must have been digging into a steak or +something. Call up a doctor!" + +"I hardly think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his +lordship's legs, while I----" + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! You don't think--he can't be----" + +"I am inclined to think so, sir." + +And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn't +mistake it. Motty was under the surface. + +It was the deuce of a shock. + +"You never can tell, Jeeves!" + +"Very seldom, sir." + +"Remove the eye of authority and where are you?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Where is my wandering boy to-night and all that sort of thing, what?" + +"It would seem so, sir." + +"Well, we had better bring him in, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So we lugged him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I lit a cigarette +and sat down to think the thing over. I had a kind of foreboding. It +seemed to me that I had let myself in for something pretty rocky. + +Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went +into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a +wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite chirpy, reading +Gingery stories. + +"What ho!" I said. + +"What ho!" said Motty. + +"What ho! What ho!" + +"What ho! What ho! What ho!" + +After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation. + +"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked. + +"Topping!" replied Motty, blithely and with abandon. "I say, you know, +that fellow of yours--Jeeves, you know--is a corker. I had a most +frightful headache when I woke up, and he brought me a sort of rummy +dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own +invention. I must see more of that lad. He seems to me distinctly one +of the ones!" + +I couldn't believe that this was the same blighter who had sat and +sucked his stick the day before. + +"You ate something that disagreed with you last night, didn't you?" I +said, by way of giving him a chance to slide out of it if he wanted to. +But he wouldn't have it, at any price. + +"No!" he replied firmly. "I didn't do anything of the kind. I drank too +much! Much too much. Lots and lots too much! And, what's more, I'm +going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night. If ever you see +me sober, old top," he said, with a kind of holy exaltation, "tap me on +the shoulder and say, 'Tut! Tut!' and I'll apologize and remedy the +defect." + +"But I say, you know, what about me?" + +"What about you?" + +"Well, I'm so to speak, as it were, kind of responsible for you. What I +mean to say is, if you go doing this sort of thing I'm apt to get in +the soup somewhat." + +"I can't help your troubles," said Motty firmly. "Listen to me, old +thing: this is the first time in my life that I've had a real chance to +yield to the temptations of a great city. What's the use of a great +city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them? Makes it so +bally discouraging for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my +eyes open and collect impressions." + +I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt dizzy. + +"I know just how you feel, old dear," said Motty consolingly. "And, if +my principles would permit it, I would simmer down for your sake. But +duty first! This is the first time I've been let out alone, and I mean +to make the most of it. We're only young once. Why interfere with +life's morning? Young man, rejoice in thy youth! Tra-la! What ho!" + +Put like that, it did seem reasonable. + +"All my bally life, dear boy," Motty went on, "I've been cooped up in +the ancestral home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you've +been cooped up in Much Middlefold you don't know what cooping is! The +only time we get any excitement is when one of the choir-boys is caught +sucking chocolate during the sermon. When that happens, we talk about +it for days. I've got about a month of New York, and I mean to store up +a few happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only +chance to collect a past, and I'm going to do it. Now tell me, old +sport, as man to man, how does one get in touch with that very decent +chappie Jeeves? Does one ring a bell or shout a bit? I should like to +discuss the subject of a good stiff b.-and-s. with him!" + + * * * * * + +I had had a sort of vague idea, don't you know, that if I stuck close +to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a +damper on the gaiety. What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was +being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye +he might ease up a trifle on the revelry. So the next night I took him +along to supper with me. It was the last time. I'm a quiet, peaceful +sort of chappie who has lived all his life in London, and I can't stand +the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set. What I +mean to say is this, I'm all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I +think a chappie makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled +eggs at the electric fan. And decent mirth and all that sort of thing +are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all +over the place dodging waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when +you want to sit still and digest. + +Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made +up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about +with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once +when I passed the door of a fairly low-down sort of restaurant and had +to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air _en route_ +for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking chappie +peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. + +In a way, I couldn't help sympathizing with the fellow. He had about +four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over +about ten years, and I didn't wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. +I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no +denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn't been for the thought of +Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have regarded +Motty's rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn't get rid of +the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to +get it behind the ear. And what with brooding on this prospect, and +sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and +putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber +next morning to contemplate the wreckage, I was beginning to lose +weight. Absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest +word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not. + +And no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man +was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn't +rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the +pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct. + +"Jeeves," I said, "this is getting a bit thick!" + +"Sir?" Business and cold respectfulness. + +"You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the +principles of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, I shall get blamed, don't you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha +is!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well, then." + +I waited a moment, but he wouldn't unbend. + +"Jeeves," I said, "haven't you any scheme up your sleeve for coping +with this blighter?" + +"No, sir." + +And he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So dashed absurd, +don't you know. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with that +Country Gentleman hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much +admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the Longacre, he +left me flat. + +It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing +pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. +This was where I began to crack under the strain. You see, the part of +town where I was living wasn't the right place for that sort of thing. +I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the +evening at about 2 a.m.--artists and writers and what-not, who +frolicked considerably till checked by the arrival of the morning milk. +That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The +neighbours can't get to sleep unless there's someone dancing Hawaiian +dances over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere +wasn't right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a +collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song +when they started singing "The Old Oaken Bucket," there was a marked +peevishness among the old settlers in the flats. The management was +extremely terse over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a lot of +soothing. + +The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place +which I'd chosen because there didn't seem any chance of meeting Motty +there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch +on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared +hold of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had reduced me to such an +extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped +backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall +just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Jeeves! There's something in there that grabs you by the leg!" + +"That would be Rollo, sir." + +"Eh?" + +"I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come +in. His temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet +settled down." + +"Who the deuce is Rollo?" + +"His lordship's bull-terrier, sir. His lordship won him in a raffle, +and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will +go in and switch on the light." + +There really is nobody like Jeeves. He walked straight into the +sitting-room, the biggest feat since Daniel and the lions' den, without +a quiver. What's more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such +that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down +as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his +paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn't have +been more chummy. Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all +worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life--to start chewing me +where he had left off. + +"Rollo is not used to you yet, sir," said Jeeves, regarding the bally +quadruped in an admiring sort of way. "He is an excellent watchdog." + +"I don't want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, what am I to do?" + +"No doubt in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will +learn to distinguish your peculiar scent." + +"What do you mean--my peculiar scent? Correct the impression that I +intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that +one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all +right." I thought for a bit. "Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"I'm going away--to-morrow morning by the first train. I shall go and +stop with Mr. Todd in the country." + +"Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?" + +"No." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I don't know when I shall be back. Forward my letters." + +"Yes, sir." + + * * * * * + +As a matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I +went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the +wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing +goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a +few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New +York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me. +The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can't +get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you +have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I +thanked Rocky for his kind hospitality, and caught the only train they +have down in those parts. It landed me in New York about dinner-time. I +went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked +round cautiously for Rollo. + +"Where's that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?" + +"The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the +porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal +on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg." + +I don't think I've ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had +misjudged Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a +lot of intelligence in him. + +"Ripping!" I said. "Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you expect him back to dinner?" + +"No, sir." + +"Where is he?" + +"In prison, sir." + +Have you ever trodden on a rake and had the handle jump up and hit you? +That's how I felt then. + +"In prison!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You don't mean--in prison?" + +"Yes, sir." + +I lowered myself into a chair. + +"Why?" I said. + +"He assaulted a constable, sir." + +"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!" + +"Yes, sir." + +I digested this. + +"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!" + +"Sir?" + +"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?" + +"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir." + +"But she'll come back and want to know where he is." + +"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out +by then." + +"But supposing it hasn't?" + +"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little." + +"How?" + +"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that +his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston." + +"Why Boston?" + +"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir." + +"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it." + +"I fancy so, sir." + +"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this +hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a +sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back." + +"Exactly, sir." + +The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze +seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what +the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have +pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I +reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a +small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick +at in a prison. Altogether, I began to feel absolutely braced again. +Life became like what the poet Johnnie says--one grand, sweet song. +Things went on so comfortably and peacefully for a couple of weeks that +I give you my word that I'd almost forgotten such a person as Motty +existed. The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was +still pained and distant. It wasn't anything he said or did, mind you, +but there was a rummy something about him all the time. Once when I was +tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There +was a kind of grieved look in his eye. + +And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn't +been expecting her for days. I'd forgotten how time had been slipping +along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea +and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announcement +that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few +garments round me and went in. + +There she was, sitting in the same arm-chair, looking as massive as +ever. The only difference was that she didn't uncover the teeth, as she +had done the first time. + +"Good morning," I said. "So you've got back, what?" + +"I have got back." + +There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had +swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she +probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that +I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a +fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've +engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee. + +"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?" + +"I have not yet breakfasted." + +"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or +something?" + +"No, thank you." + +She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for +the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence. + +"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out." + +"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?" + +"Extremely, thank you." + +"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old +Grand Canyon, and what-not?" + +"I saw a great deal." + +There was another slightly _frappe_ silence. Jeeves floated +silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table. + +"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?" + +I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. + +"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly." + +"You were his constant companion, then?" + +"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you +know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of +lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred +concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually +played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing +sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to +Boston." + +"Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?" + +"Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn't know where +you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe--I mean, +don't you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn't get at you. +Yes, Motty went off to Boston." + +"You're sure he went to Boston?" + +"Oh, absolutely." I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in +the next room with forks and so forth: "Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn't +change his mind about going to Boston, did he?" + +"No, sir." + +"I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston." + +"Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the fact that when I went +yesterday afternoon to Blackwell's Island prison, to secure material +for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, +seated beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?" + +I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A chappie has +to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like +this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar +and the hair parting nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, +because I wouldn't have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my +system. Lady Malvern collared the conversation. She had been bottling +it up, and now it came out with a rush: + +"So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! +So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, +thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to +you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to +the temptations of a large city, and you led him astray!" + +I hadn't any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of +Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the +hatchet against my return. + +"You deliberately----" + +Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke: + +"If I might explain, your ladyship." + +Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialized +on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't +do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof. + +"I fancy, your ladyship, that you have misunderstood Mr. Wooster, and +that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when +his lordship--was removed. When Mr. Wooster informed your ladyship that +his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had +given him of his lordship's movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a +friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till +your ladyship informed him." + +Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn't rattle Jeeves. + +"I feared Mr. Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is +so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, +so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away +for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to believe that +his lordship had gone to prison voluntarily and from the best motives, +but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand." + +"What!" Lady Malvern goggled at him. "Did you say that Lord Pershore +went to prison voluntarily?" + +"If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship's +parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently +heard him speak to Mr. Wooster of his desire to do something to follow +your ladyship's instructions and collect material for your ladyship's +book on America. Mr. Wooster will bear me out when I say that his +lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was +doing so little to help." + +"Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!" I said. + +"The idea of making a personal examination into the prison system of +the country--from within--occurred to his lordship very suddenly one +night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restraining him." + +Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I +could see her struggling with the thing. + +"Surely, your ladyship," said Jeeves, "it is more reasonable to suppose +that a gentleman of his lordship's character went to prison of his own +volition than that he committed some breach of the law which +necessitated his arrest?" + +Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. + +"Mr. Wooster," she said, "I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I +should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his +pure, fine spirit." + +"Absolutely!" I said. + +"Your breakfast is ready, sir," said Jeeves. + +I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. + +"Jeeves," I said, "you are certainly a life-saver!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Nothing would have convinced my Aunt Agatha that I hadn't lured that +blighter into riotous living." + +"I fancy you are right, sir." + +I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don't you know, +by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that +this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I +hesitated. Then I made up my mind. + +"Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +"That pink tie!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Burn it!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, Jeeves!" + +"Yes, sir?" + +"Take a taxi and get me that Longacre hat, as worn by John Drew!" + +"Thank you very much, sir." + +I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and +all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the +novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and +decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other +things to show Jeeves that I appreciated him. + +"Jeeves," I said, "it isn't enough. Is there anything else you would +like?" + +"Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion--fifty dollars." + +"Fifty dollars?" + +"It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his +lordship." + +"You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?" + +"Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship +was arrested. I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable +method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir. His lordship +was a little over-excited at the time and I fancy that he mistook me +for a friend of his. At any rate when I took the liberty of wagering +him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the +eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it." + +I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. + +"Take this, Jeeves," I said; "fifty isn't enough. Do you know, Jeeves, +you're--well, you absolutely stand alone!" + +"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir," said Jeeves. + + + + +JEEVES AND THE HARD-BOILED EGG + + +Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup +of tea and watched my man Jeeves flitting about the room and putting +out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do +if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me. It's not so bad +now I'm in New York, but in London the anxiety was frightful. There +used to be all sorts of attempts on the part of low blighters to sneak +him away from me. Young Reggie Foljambe to my certain knowledge offered +him double what I was giving him, and Alistair Bingham-Reeves, who's +got a valet who had been known to press his trousers sideways, used to +look at him, when he came to see me, with a kind of glittering hungry +eye which disturbed me deucedly. Bally pirates! + +The thing, you see, is that Jeeves is so dashed competent. You can spot +it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt. + +I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down. +And, what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself +on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be to all appearances +knee-deep in the bouillon. Take the rather rummy case, for instance, +of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. + +It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to +the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink +he said: + +"Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were +out." + +"Oh?" I said. + +"Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." + +"What, pipped?" + +"He gave that impression, sir." + +I sipped the whisky. I was sorry if Bicky was in trouble, but, as a +matter of fact, I was rather glad to have something I could discuss +freely with Jeeves just then, because things had been a bit strained +between us for some time, and it had been rather difficult to hit on +anything to talk about that wasn't apt to take a personal turn. You +see, I had decided--rightly or wrongly--to grow a moustache and this +had cut Jeeves to the quick. He couldn't stick the thing at any price, +and I had been living ever since in an atmosphere of bally disapproval +till I was getting jolly well fed up with it. What I mean is, while +there's no doubt that in certain matters of dress Jeeves's judgment is +absolutely sound and should be followed, it seemed to me that it was +getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my +costume. No one can call me an unreasonable chappie, and many's the +time I've given in like a lamb when Jeeves has voted against one of my +pet suits or ties; but when it comes to a valet's staking out a claim +on your upper lip you've simply got to have a bit of the good old +bulldog pluck and defy the blighter. + +"He said that he would call again later, sir." + +"Something must be up, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +I gave the moustache a thoughtful twirl. It seemed to hurt Jeeves a +good deal, so I chucked it. + +"I see by the paper, sir, that Mr. Bickersteth's uncle is arriving on +the _Carmantic_." + +"Yes?" + +"His Grace the Duke of Chiswick, sir." + +This was news to me, that Bicky's uncle was a duke. Rum, how little one +knows about one's pals! I had met Bicky for the first time at a species +of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my +arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I +rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in +fact, been up at Oxford with me. Besides, he was a frightful chump, so +we naturally drifted together; and while we were taking a quiet snort +in a corner that wasn't all cluttered up with artists and sculptors and +what-not, he furthermore endeared himself to me by a most extraordinarily +gifted imitation of a bull-terrier chasing a cat up a tree. But, though +we had subsequently become extremely pally, all I really knew about him +was that he was generally hard up, and had an uncle who relieved the +strain a bit from time to time by sending him monthly remittances. + +"If the Duke of Chiswick is his uncle," I said, "why hasn't he a title? +Why isn't he Lord What-Not?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth is the son of his grace's late sister, sir, who +married Captain Rollo Bickersteth of the Coldstream Guards." + +Jeeves knows everything. + +"Is Mr. Bickersteth's father dead, too?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Leave any money?" + +"No, sir." + +I began to understand why poor old Bicky was always more or less on the +rocks. To the casual and irreflective observer, if you know what I +mean, it may sound a pretty good wheeze having a duke for an uncle, but +the trouble about old Chiswick was that, though an extremely wealthy +old buster, owning half London and about five counties up north, he was +notoriously the most prudent spender in England. He was what American +chappies would call a hard-boiled egg. If Bicky's people hadn't left +him anything and he depended on what he could prise out of the old +duke, he was in a pretty bad way. Not that that explained why he was +hunting me like this, because he was a chap who never borrowed money. +He said he wanted to keep his pals, so never bit any one's ear on +principle. + +At this juncture the door bell rang. Jeeves floated out to answer it. + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster has just returned," I heard him say. And Bicky +came trickling in, looking pretty sorry for himself. + +"Halloa, Bicky!" I said. "Jeeves told me you had been trying to get me. +Jeeves, bring another glass, and let the revels commence. What's the +trouble, Bicky?" + +"I'm in a hole, Bertie. I want your advice." + +"Say on, old lad!" + +"My uncle's turning up to-morrow, Bertie." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +"The Duke of Chiswick, you know." + +"So Jeeves told me." + +Bicky seemed a bit surprised. + +"Jeeves seems to know everything." + +"Rather rummily, that's exactly what I was thinking just now myself." + +"Well, I wish," said Bicky gloomily, "that he knew a way to get me out +of the hole I'm in." + +Jeeves shimmered in with the glass, and stuck it competently on the +table. + +"Mr. Bickersteth is in a bit of a hole, Jeeves," I said, "and wants you +to rally round." + +"Very good, sir." + +Bicky looked a bit doubtful. + +"Well, of course, you know, Bertie, this thing is by way of being a bit +private and all that." + +"I shouldn't worry about that, old top. I bet Jeeves knows all about it +already. Don't you, Jeeves?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Eh!" said Bicky, rattled. + +"I am open to correction, sir, but is not your dilemma due to the fact +that you are at a loss to explain to his grace why you are in New York +instead of in Colorado?" + +Bicky rocked like a jelly in a high wind. + +"How the deuce do you know anything about it?" + +"I chanced to meet his grace's butler before we left England. He +informed me that he happened to overhear his grace speaking to you on +the matter, sir, as he passed the library door." + +Bicky gave a hollow sort of laugh. + +"Well, as everybody seems to know all about it, there's no need to try +to keep it dark. The old boy turfed me out, Bertie, because he said I +was a brainless nincompoop. The idea was that he would give me a +remittance on condition that I dashed out to some blighted locality of +the name of Colorado and learned farming or ranching, or whatever they +call it, at some bally ranch or farm or whatever it's called. I didn't +fancy the idea a bit. I should have had to ride horses and pursue cows, +and so forth. I hate horses. They bite at you. I was all against the +scheme. At the same time, don't you know, I had to have that +remittance." + +"I get you absolutely, dear boy." + +"Well, when I got to New York it looked a decent sort of place to me, +so I thought it would be a pretty sound notion to stop here. So I +cabled to my uncle telling him that I had dropped into a good business +wheeze in the city and wanted to chuck the ranch idea. He wrote back +that it was all right, and here I've been ever since. He thinks I'm +doing well at something or other over here. I never dreamed, don't you +know, that he would ever come out here. What on earth am I to do?" + +"Jeeves," I said, "what on earth is Mr. Bickersteth to do?" + +"You see," said Bicky, "I had a wireless from him to say that he was +coming to stay with me--to save hotel bills, I suppose. I've always +given him the impression that I was living in pretty good style. I +can't have him to stay at my boarding-house." + +"Thought of anything, Jeeves?" I said. + +"To what extent, sir, if the question is not a delicate one, are you +prepared to assist Mr. Bickersteth?" + +"I'll do anything I can for you, of course, Bicky, old man." + +"Then, if I might make the suggestion, sir, you might lend Mr. +Bickersteth----" + +"No, by Jove!" said Bicky firmly. "I never have touched you, Bertie, +and I'm not going to start now. I may be a chump, but it's my boast +that I don't owe a penny to a single soul--not counting tradesmen, of +course." + +"I was about to suggest, sir, that you might lend Mr. Bickersteth this +flat. Mr. Bickersteth could give his grace the impression that he was +the owner of it. With your permission I could convey the notion that I +was in Mr. Bickersteth's employment, and not in yours. You would be +residing here temporarily as Mr. Bickersteth's guest. His grace would +occupy the second spare bedroom. I fancy that you would find this +answer satisfactorily, sir." + +Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed +sort of way. + +"I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace +on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. +Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. +Will that meet the situation, sir?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Bicky followed him with his eye till the door closed. + +"How does he do it, Bertie?" he said. "I'll tell you what I think it +is. I believe it's something to do with the shape of his head. Have you +ever noticed his head, Bertie, old man? It sort of sticks out at the +back!" + + * * * * * + +I hopped out of bed early next morning, so as to be among those present +when the old boy should arrive. I knew from experience that these ocean +liners fetch up at the dock at a deucedly ungodly hour. It wasn't much +after nine by the time I'd dressed and had my morning tea and was +leaning out of the window, watching the street for Bicky and his uncle. +It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish +he'd got a soul or something, and I was just brooding on life in +general when I became aware of the dickens of a spate in progress down +below. A taxi had driven up, and an old boy in a top hat had got out +and was kicking up a frightful row about the fare. As far as I could +make out, he was trying to get the cab chappie to switch from New York +to London prices, and the cab chappie had apparently never heard of +London before, and didn't seem to think a lot of it now. The old boy +said that in London the trip would have set him back eightpence; and +the cabby said he should worry. I called to Jeeves. + +"The duke has arrived, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"That'll be him at the door now." + +Jeeves made a long arm and opened the front door, and the old boy +crawled in, looking licked to a splinter. + +"How do you do, sir?" I said, bustling up and being the ray of +sunshine. "Your nephew went down to the dock to meet you, but you must +have missed him. My name's Wooster, don't you know. Great pal of +Bicky's, and all that sort of thing. I'm staying with him, you know. +Would you like a cup of tea? Jeeves, bring a cup of tea." + +Old Chiswick had sunk into an arm-chair and was looking about the room. + +"Does this luxurious flat belong to my nephew Francis?" + +"Absolutely." + +"It must be terribly expensive." + +"Pretty well, of course. Everything costs a lot over here, you know." + +He moaned. Jeeves filtered in with the tea. Old Chiswick took a stab at +it to restore his tissues, and nodded. + +"A terrible country, Mr. Wooster! A terrible country! Nearly eight +shillings for a short cab-drive! Iniquitous!" He took another look +round the room. It seemed to fascinate him. "Have you any idea how +much my nephew pays for this flat, Mr. Wooster?" + +"About two hundred dollars a month, I believe." + +"What! Forty pounds a month!" + +I began to see that, unless I made the thing a bit more plausible, the +scheme might turn out a frost. I could guess what the old boy was +thinking. He was trying to square all this prosperity with what he knew +of poor old Bicky. And one had to admit that it took a lot of squaring, +for dear old Bicky, though a stout fellow and absolutely unrivalled as +an imitator of bull-terriers and cats, was in many ways one of the most +pronounced fatheads that ever pulled on a suit of gent's underwear. + +"I suppose it seems rummy to you," I said, "but the fact is New York +often bucks chappies up and makes them show a flash of speed that you +wouldn't have imagined them capable of. It sort of develops them. +Something in the air, don't you know. I imagine that Bicky in the past, +when you knew him, may have been something of a chump, but it's quite +different now. Devilish efficient sort of chappie, and looked on in +commercial circles as quite the nib!" + +"I am amazed! What is the nature of my nephew's business, Mr. Wooster?" + +"Oh, just business, don't you know. The same sort of thing Carnegie and +Rockefeller and all these coves do, you know." I slid for the door. +"Awfully sorry to leave you, but I've got to meet some of the lads +elsewhere." + +Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. + +"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" + +"He's upstairs now, having some tea." + +"What does he think of it all?" + +"He's absolutely rattled." + +"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See +you later." + +"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy." + +He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the +club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and +going down the other. + +It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for +dinner. + +"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering +about the place. "Gone out?" + +"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr. +Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective +was Grant's Tomb." + +"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are +going--what?" + +"Sir?" + +"I say, I take it that Mr. Bickersteth is tolerably full of beans." + +"Not altogether, sir." + +"What's his trouble now?" + +"The scheme which I took the liberty of suggesting to Mr. Bickersteth +and yourself has, unfortunately, not answered entirely satisfactorily, +sir." + +"Surely the duke believes that Mr. Bickersteth is doing well in +business, and all that sort of thing?" + +"Exactly, sir. With the result that he has decided to cancel Mr. +Bickersteth's monthly allowance, on the ground that, as Mr. Bickersteth +is doing so well on his own account, he no longer requires pecuniary +assistance." + +"Great Scot, Jeeves! This is awful." + +"Somewhat disturbing, sir." + +"I never expected anything like this!" + +"I confess I scarcely anticipated the contingency myself, sir." + +"I suppose it bowled the poor blighter over absolutely?" + +"Mr. Bickersteth appeared somewhat taken aback, sir." + +My heart bled for Bicky. + +"We must do something, Jeeves." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can you think of anything?" + +"Not at the moment, sir." + +"There must be something we can do." + +"It was a maxim of one of my former employers, sir--as I believe I +mentioned to you once before--the present Lord Bridgnorth, that there +is always a way. I remember his lordship using the expression on the +occasion--he was then a business gentleman and had not yet received his +title--when a patent hair-restorer which he chanced to be promoting +failed to attract the public. He put it on the market under another +name as a depilatory, and amassed a substantial fortune. I have +generally found his lordship's aphorism based on sound foundations. No +doubt we shall be able to discover some solution of Mr. Bickersteth's +difficulty, sir." + +"Well, have a stab at it, Jeeves!" + +"I will spare no pains, sir." + +I went and dressed sadly. It will show you pretty well how pipped I was +when I tell you that I near as a toucher put on a white tie with a +dinner-jacket. I sallied out for a bit of food more to pass the time +than because I wanted it. It seemed brutal to be wading into the bill +of fare with poor old Bicky headed for the breadline. + +When I got back old Chiswick had gone to bed, but Bicky was there, +hunched up in an arm-chair, brooding pretty tensely, with a cigarette +hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a more or less glassy stare +in his eyes. He had the aspect of one who had been soaked with what the +newspaper chappies call "some blunt instrument." + +"This is a bit thick, old thing--what!" I said. + +He picked up his glass and drained it feverishly, overlooking the fact +that it hadn't anything in it. + +"I'm done, Bertie!" he said. + +He had another go at the glass. It didn't seem to do him any good. + +"If only this had happened a week later, Bertie! My next month's money +was due to roll in on Saturday. I could have worked a wheeze I've been +reading about in the magazine advertisements. It seems that you can +make a dashed amount of money if you can only collect a few dollars +and start a chicken-farm. Jolly sound scheme, Bertie! Say you buy a +hen--call it one hen for the sake of argument. It lays an egg every +day of the week. You sell the eggs seven for twenty-five cents. Keep +of hen costs nothing. Profit practically twenty-five cents on every +seven eggs. Or look at it another way: Suppose you have a dozen eggs. +Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have +more chickens. Why, in no time you'd have the place covered knee-deep +in hens, all laying eggs, at twenty-five cents for every seven. You'd +make a fortune. Jolly life, too, keeping hens!" He had begun to get +quite worked up at the thought of it, but he slopped back in his chair +at this juncture with a good deal of gloom. "But, of course, it's no +good," he said, "because I haven't the cash." + +"You've only to say the word, you know, Bicky, old top." + +"Thanks awfully, Bertie, but I'm not going to sponge on you." + +That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend +money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it +to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift +the specie out of your pockets. As a lad who has always rolled +tolerably free in the right stuff, I've had lots of experience of the +second class. Many's the time, back in London, I've hurried along +Piccadilly and felt the hot breath of the toucher on the back of my +neck and heard his sharp, excited yapping as he closed in on me. I've +simply spent my life scattering largesse to blighters I didn't care a +hang for; yet here was I now, dripping doubloons and pieces of eight +and longing to hand them over, and Bicky, poor fish, absolutely on his +uppers, not taking any at any price. + +"Well, there's only one hope, then." + +"What's that?" + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +There was Jeeves, standing behind me, full of zeal. In this matter of +shimmering into rooms the chappie is rummy to a degree. You're sitting +in the old arm-chair, thinking of this and that, and then suddenly you +look up, and there he is. He moves from point to point with as little +uproar as a jelly fish. The thing startled poor old Bicky considerably. +He rose from his seat like a rocketing pheasant. I'm used to Jeeves +now, but often in the days when he first came to me I've bitten my +tongue freely on finding him unexpectedly in my midst. + +"Did you call, sir?" + +"Oh, there you are, Jeeves!" + +"Precisely, sir." + +"Jeeves, Mr. Bickersteth is still up the pole. Any ideas?" + +"Why, yes, sir. Since we had our recent conversation I fancy I have +found what may prove a solution. I do not wish to appear to be taking a +liberty, sir, but I think that we have overlooked his grace's +potentialities as a source of revenue." + +Bicky laughed, what I have sometimes seen described as a hollow, +mocking laugh, a sort of bitter cackle from the back of the throat, +rather like a gargle. + +"I do not allude, sir," explained Jeeves, "to the possibility of +inducing his grace to part with money. I am taking the liberty of +regarding his grace in the light of an at present--if I may say +so--useless property, which is capable of being developed." + +Bicky looked at me in a helpless kind of way. I'm bound to say I didn't +get it myself. + +"Couldn't you make it a bit easier, Jeeves!" + +"In a nutshell, sir, what I mean is this: His grace is, in a sense, a +prominent personage. The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you +are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent +personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might +know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee--let us say two +dollars or three--for the privilege of an introduction, including +handshake, to his grace." + +Bicky didn't seem to think much of it. + +"Do you mean to say that anyone would be mug enough to part with solid +cash just to shake hands with my uncle?" + +"I have an aunt, sir, who paid five shillings to a young fellow for +bringing a moving-picture actor to tea at her house one Sunday. It gave +her social standing among the neighbours." + +Bicky wavered. + +"If you think it could be done----" + +"I feel convinced of it, sir." + +"What do you think, Bertie?" + +"I'm for it, old boy, absolutely. A very brainy wheeze." + +"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything further? Good night, sir." + +And he floated out, leaving us to discuss details. + +Until we started this business of floating old Chiswick as a money-making +proposition I had never realized what a perfectly foul time those Stock +Exchange chappies must have when the public isn't biting freely. Nowadays +I read that bit they put in the financial reports about "The market +opened quietly" with a sympathetic eye, for, by Jove, it certainly opened +quietly for us! You'd hardly believe how difficult it was to interest +the public and make them take a flutter on the old boy. By the end of the +week the only name we had on our list was a delicatessen-store keeper +down in Bicky's part of the town, and as he wanted us to take it out in +sliced ham instead of cash that didn't help much. There was a gleam of +light when the brother of Bicky's pawnbroker offered ten dollars, money +down, for an introduction to old Chiswick, but the deal fell through, +owing to its turning out that the chap was an anarchist and intended to +kick the old boy instead of shaking hands with him. At that, it took me +the deuce of a time to persuade Bicky not to grab the cash and let things +take their course. He seemed to regard the pawnbroker's brother rather as +a sportsman and benefactor of his species than otherwise. + +The whole thing, I'm inclined to think, would have been off if it +hadn't been for Jeeves. There is no doubt that Jeeves is in a class of +his own. In the matter of brain and resource I don't think I have ever +met a chappie so supremely like mother made. He trickled into my room +one morning with a good old cup of tea, and intimated that there was +something doing. + +"Might I speak to you with regard to that matter of his grace, sir?" + +"It's all off. We've decided to chuck it." + +"Sir?" + +"It won't work. We can't get anybody to come." + +"I fancy I can arrange that aspect of the matter, sir." + +"Do you mean to say you've managed to get anybody?" + +"Yes, sir. Eighty-seven gentlemen from Birdsburg, sir." + +I sat up in bed and spilt the tea. + +"Birdsburg?" + +"Birdsburg, Missouri, sir." + +"How did you get them?" + +"I happened last night, sir, as you had intimated that you would be +absent from home, to attend a theatrical performance, and entered into +conversation between the acts with the occupant of the adjoining seat. +I had observed that he was wearing a somewhat ornate decoration in his +buttonhole, sir--a large blue button with the words 'Boost for +Birdsburg' upon it in red letters, scarcely a judicious addition to a +gentleman's evening costume. To my surprise I noticed that the +auditorium was full of persons similarly decorated. I ventured to +inquire the explanation, and was informed that these gentlemen, forming +a party of eighty-seven, are a convention from a town of the name if +Birdsburg, in the State of Missouri. Their visit, I gathered, was +purely of a social and pleasurable nature, and my informant spoke at +some length of the entertainments arranged for their stay in the city. +It was when he related with a considerable amount of satisfaction and +pride, that a deputation of their number had been introduced to and had +shaken hands with a well-known prizefighter, that it occurred to me to +broach the subject of his grace. To make a long story short, sir, I +have arranged, subject to your approval, that the entire convention +shall be presented to his grace to-morrow afternoon." + +I was amazed. This chappie was a Napoleon. + +"Eighty-seven, Jeeves. At how much a head?" + +"I was obliged to agree to a reduction for quantity, sir. The terms +finally arrived at were one hundred and fifty dollars for the party." + +I thought a bit. + +"Payable in advance?" + +"No, sir. I endeavoured to obtain payment in advance, but was not +successful." + +"Well, any way, when we get it I'll make it up to five hundred. +Bicky'll never know. Do you suspect Mr. Bickersteth would suspect +anything, Jeeves, if I made it up to five hundred?" + +"I fancy not, sir. Mr. Bickersteth is an agreeable gentleman, but not +bright." + +"All right, then. After breakfast run down to the bank and get me some +money." + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know, you're a bit of a marvel, Jeeves." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Right-o!" + +"Very good, sir." + +When I took dear old Bicky aside in the course of the morning and told +him what had happened he nearly broke down. He tottered into the +sitting-room and buttonholed old Chiswick, who was reading the comic +section of the morning paper with a kind of grim resolution. + +"Uncle," he said, "are you doing anything special to-morrow afternoon? +I mean to say, I've asked a few of my pals in to meet you, don't you +know." + +The old boy cocked a speculative eye at him. + +"There will be no reporters among them?" + +"Reporters? Rather not! Why?" + +"I refuse to be badgered by reporters. There were a number of adhesive +young men who endeavoured to elicit from me my views on America while +the boat was approaching the dock. I will not be subjected to this +persecution again." + +"That'll be absolutely all right, uncle. There won't be a newspaper-man +in the place." + +"In that case I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your +friends." + +"You'll shake hands with them and so forth?" + +"I shall naturally order my behaviour according to the accepted rules +of civilized intercourse." + +Bicky thanked him heartily and came off to lunch with me at the club, +where he babbled freely of hens, incubators, and other rotten things. + +After mature consideration we had decided to unleash the Birdsburg +contingent on the old boy ten at a time. Jeeves brought his theatre pal +round to see us, and we arranged the whole thing with him. A very +decent chappie, but rather inclined to collar the conversation and turn +it in the direction of his home-town's new water-supply system. We +settled that, as an hour was about all he would be likely to stand, +each gang should consider itself entitled to seven minutes of the +duke's society by Jeeves's stop-watch, and that when their time was up +Jeeves should slide into the room and cough meaningly. Then we parted +with what I believe are called mutual expressions of goodwill, the +Birdsburg chappie extending a cordial invitation to us all to pop out +some day and take a look at the new water-supply system, for which we +thanked him. + +Next day the deputation rolled in. The first shift consisted of the +cove we had met and nine others almost exactly like him in every +respect. They all looked deuced keen and businesslike, as if from youth +up they had been working in the office and catching the boss's eye and +what-not. They shook hands with the old boy with a good deal of +apparent satisfaction--all except one chappie, who seemed to be +brooding about something--and then they stood off and became chatty. + +"What message have you for Birdsburg, Duke?" asked our pal. + +The old boy seemed a bit rattled. + +"I have never been to Birdsburg." + +The chappie seemed pained. + +"You should pay it a visit," he said. "The most rapidly-growing city in +the country. Boost for Birdsburg!" + +"Boost for Birdsburg!" said the other chappies reverently. + +The chappie who had been brooding suddenly gave tongue. + +"Say!" + +He was a stout sort of well-fed cove with one of those determined chins +and a cold eye. + +The assemblage looked at him. + +"As a matter of business," said the chappie--"mind you, I'm not +questioning anybody's good faith, but, as a matter of strict +business--I think this gentleman here ought to put himself on +record before witnesses as stating that he really is a duke." + +"What do you mean, sir?" cried the old boy, getting purple. + +"No offence, simply business. I'm not saying anything, mind you, but +there's one thing that seems kind of funny to me. This gentleman here +says his name's Mr. Bickersteth, as I understand it. Well, if you're +the Duke of Chiswick, why isn't he Lord Percy Something? I've read +English novels, and I know all about it." + +"This is monstrous!" + +"Now don't get hot under the collar. I'm only asking. I've a right to +know. You're going to take our money, so it's only fair that we should +see that we get our money's worth." + +The water-supply cove chipped in: + +"You're quite right, Simms. I overlooked that when making the +agreement. You see, gentlemen, as business men we've a right to +reasonable guarantees of good faith. We are paying Mr. Bickersteth here +a hundred and fifty dollars for this reception, and we naturally want +to know----" + +Old Chiswick gave Bicky a searching look; then he turned to the +water-supply chappie. He was frightfully calm. + +"I can assure you that I know nothing of this," he said, quite +politely. "I should be grateful if you would explain." + +"Well, we arranged with Mr. Bickersteth that eighty-seven citizens +of Birdsburg should have the privilege of meeting and shaking hands +with you for a financial consideration mutually arranged, and what my +friend Simms here means--and I'm with him--is that we have only Mr. +Bickersteth's word for it--and he is a stranger to us--that you are +the Duke of Chiswick at all." + +Old Chiswick gulped. + +"Allow me to assure you, sir," he said, in a rummy kind of voice, "that +I am the Duke of Chiswick." + +"Then that's all right," said the chappie heartily. "That was all we +wanted to know. Let the thing go on." + +"I am sorry to say," said old Chiswick, "that it cannot go on. I am +feeling a little tired. I fear I must ask to be excused." + +"But there are seventy-seven of the boys waiting round the corner at +this moment, Duke, to be introduced to you." + +"I fear I must disappoint them." + +"But in that case the deal would have to be off." + +"That is a matter for you and my nephew to discuss." + +The chappie seemed troubled. + +"You really won't meet the rest of them?" + +"No!" + +"Well, then, I guess we'll be going." + +They went out, and there was a pretty solid silence. Then old Chiswick +turned to Bicky: + +"Well?" + +Bicky didn't seem to have anything to say. + +"Was it true what that man said?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"What do you mean by playing this trick?" + +Bicky seemed pretty well knocked out, so I put in a word. + +"I think you'd better explain the whole thing, Bicky, old top." + +Bicky's Adam's-apple jumped about a bit; then he started: + +"You see, you had cut off my allowance, uncle, and I wanted a bit of +money to start a chicken farm. I mean to say it's an absolute cert if +you once get a bit of capital. You buy a hen, and it lays an egg every +day of the week, and you sell the eggs, say, seven for twenty-five +cents. + +"Keep of hens cost nothing. Profit practically----" + +"What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a +substantial business man." + +"Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir," I said, helping the chappie out. +"The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance +of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly +in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the +ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this handshaking scheme." + +Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth. + +"So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your +financial status!" + +"Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch," I explained. "He +doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot +stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think +it would be rather a wheeze if you were to----" + +"After what has happened? After this--this deceit and foolery? Not a +penny!" + +"But----" + +"Not a penny!" + +There was a respectful cough in the background. + +"If I might make a suggestion, sir?" + +Jeeves was standing on the horizon, looking devilish brainy. + +"Go ahead, Jeeves!" I said. + +"I would merely suggest, sir, that if Mr. Bickersteth is in need of a +little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might +secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this +afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and +enterprising newspapers." + +"By Jove!" I said. + +"By George!" said Bicky. + +"Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. + +"Very good, sir," said Jeeves. + +Bicky turned to old Chiswick with a gleaming eye. + +"Jeeves is right. I'll do it! The _Chronicle_ would jump at it. +They eat that sort of stuff." + +Old Chiswick gave a kind of moaning howl. + +"I absolutely forbid you, Francis, to do this thing!" + +"That's all very well," said Bicky, wonderfully braced, "but if I can't +get the money any other way----" + +"Wait! Er--wait, my boy! You are so impetuous! We might arrange +something." + +"I won't go to that bally ranch." + +"No, no! No, no, my boy! I would not suggest it. I would not for a +moment suggest it. I--I think----" + +He seemed to have a bit of a struggle with himself. "I--I think that, +on the whole, it would be best if you returned with me to England. I--I +might--in fact, I think I see my way to doing--to--I might be able to +utilize your services in some secretarial position." + +"I shouldn't mind that." + +"I should not be able to offer you a salary, but, as you know, in +English political life the unpaid secretary is a recognized figure----" + +"The only figure I'll recognize," said Bicky firmly, "is five hundred +quid a year, paid quarterly." + +"My dear boy!" + +"Absolutely!" + +"But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled +opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to +accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to--in fact, +you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." + +"Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue. "Why, +that would be nothing to what I could make if I started a chicken farm. +It stands to reason. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Each of the hens +has a dozen chickens. After a bit the chickens grow up and have a dozen +chickens each themselves, and then they all start laying eggs! There's +a fortune in it. You can get anything you like for eggs in America. +Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till +they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a +future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?" + +A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be +resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. + +"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." + +"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to +celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best +efforts." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"It beats me how you do it." + +"Yes, sir." + +"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!" + +"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify +his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to +assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position +to do so." + +"It isn't enough, Jeeves!" + +"Sir?" + +It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done. + +"Bring my shaving things." + +A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt. + +"You mean, sir?" + +"And shave off my moustache." + +There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved. + +"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped +off. + + + + +ABSENT TREATMENT + + +I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew. It's a most +interesting story. I can't put in any literary style and all that; but +I don't have to, don't you know, because it goes on its Moral Lesson. +If you're a man you mustn't miss it, because it'll be a warning to you; +and if you're a woman you won't want to, because it's all about how a +girl made a man feel pretty well fed up with things. + +If you're a recent acquaintance of Bobbie's, you'll probably be +surprised to hear that there was a time when he was more remarkable for +the weakness of his memory than anything else. Dozens of fellows, who +have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised +when I told them that. Yet it's true. Believe _me_. + +In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most +pronounced young rotter inside the four-mile radius. People have called +me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie. When it +came to being a silly ass, he was a plus-four man, while my handicap +was about six. Why, if I wanted him to dine with me, I used to post him +a letter at the beginning of the week, and then the day before send him +a telegram and a phone-call on the day itself, and--half an hour before +the time we'd fixed--a messenger in a taxi, whose business it was to +see that he got in and that the chauffeur had the address all correct. +By doing this I generally managed to get him, unless he had left town +before my messenger arrived. + +The funny thing was that he wasn't altogether a fool in other ways. +Deep down in him there was a kind of stratum of sense. I had known him, +once or twice, show an almost human intelligence. But to reach that +stratum, mind you, you needed dynamite. + +At least, that's what I thought. But there was another way which hadn't +occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; +that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup +chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still +doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like +that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married--with a sort of whoop, +as if it were the greatest fun in the world--and then began to find out +things. + +She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave +about. And yet, I don't know. What I mean is, she worked for her +living; and to a fellow who has never done a hand's turn in his life +there's undoubtedly a sort of fascination, a kind of romance, about a +girl who works for her living. + +Her name was Anthony. Mary Anthony. She was about five feet six; she +had a ton and a half of red-gold hair, grey eyes, and one of those +determined chins. She was a hospital nurse. When Bobbie smashed himself +up at polo, she was told off by the authorities to smooth his brow and +rally round with cooling unguents and all that; and the old boy hadn't +been up and about again for more than a week before they popped off to +the registrar's and fixed it up. Quite the romance. + +Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he +introduced me to her. I admired her. I've never worked myself--my +name's Pepper, by the way. Almost forgot to mention it. Reggie Pepper. +My uncle Edward was Pepper, Wells, and Co., the Colliery people. He +left me a sizable chunk of bullion--I say I've never worked myself, but +I admire any one who earns a living under difficulties, especially a +girl. And this girl had had a rather unusually tough time of it, being +an orphan and all that, and having had to do everything off her own bat +for years. + +Mary and I got along together splendidly. We don't now, but we'll come +to that later. I'm speaking of the past. She seemed to think Bobbie the +greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she looked at him when she +thought I wasn't noticing. And Bobbie seemed to think the same about +her. So that I came to the conclusion that, if only dear old Bobbie +didn't forget to go to the wedding, they had a sporting chance of being +quite happy. + +Well, let's brisk up a bit here, and jump a year. The story doesn't +really start till then. + +They took a flat and settled down. I was in and out of the place quite +a good deal. I kept my eyes open, and everything seemed to me to be +running along as smoothly as you could want. If this was marriage, I +thought, I couldn't see why fellows were so frightened of it. There +were a lot of worse things that could happen to a man. + +But we now come to the incident of the quiet Dinner, and it's just here +that love's young dream hits a snag, and things begin to occur. + +I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back +to dinner at the flat. And, like a fool, instead of bolting and putting +myself under police protection, I went. + +When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking--well, I tell +you, it staggered me. Her gold hair was all piled up in waves and +crinkles and things, with a what-d'-you-call-it of diamonds in it. And +she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn't begin to +describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this +was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were +dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked +domesticity. + +"Here's old Reggie, dear," said Bobbie. "I've brought him home to have +a bit of dinner. I'll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it +up now--what?" + +She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned +scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little +laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree +about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. + +"I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper," she said, smiling at +me. + +And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She +talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on +the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Quite a jolly +little party it was--not. I'm no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of +thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was +working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and +that she would have given that diamond what's-its-name in her hair and +everything else she possessed to have one good scream--just one. I've +sat through some pretty thick evenings in my time, but that one had the +rest beaten in a canter. At the very earliest moment I grabbed my hat and +got away. + +Having seen what I did, I wasn't particularly surprised to meet Bobbie +at the club next day looking about as merry and bright as a lonely +gum-drop at an Eskimo tea-party. + +He started in straightway. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to +about it. + +"Do you know how long I've been married?" he said. + +I didn't exactly. + +"About a year, isn't it?" + +"Not _about_ a year," he said sadly. "Exactly a year--yesterday!" + +Then I understood. I saw light--a regular flash of light. + +"Yesterday was----?" + +"The anniversary of the wedding. I'd arranged to take Mary to the +Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso. +I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through +dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I'd +forgotten, but I couldn't think what?" + +"Till your wife mentioned it?" + +He nodded---- + +"She--mentioned it," he said thoughtfully. + +I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be +angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, +they aren't half-hearted about it. + +"To be absolutely frank, old top," said poor old Bobbie, in a broken +sort of way, "my stock's pretty low at home." + +There didn't seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat +there. He didn't want to talk. Presently he went out. I stood at the +window of our upper smoking-room, which looks out on to Piccadilly, and +watched him. He walked slowly along for a few yards, stopped, then +walked on again, and finally turned into a jeweller's. Which was an +instance of what I meant when I said that deep down in him there was a +certain stratum of sense. + + * * * * * + +It was from now on that I began to be really interested in this problem +of Bobbie's married life. Of course, one's always mildly interested in +one's friends' marriages, hoping they'll turn out well and all that; +but this was different. The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the +average girl isn't like Mary. It was that old business of the immovable +mass and the irresistible force. There was Bobbie, ambling gently +through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a +chump of the first water. + +And there was Mary, determined that he shouldn't be a chump. And +Nature, mind you, on Bobbie's side. When Nature makes a chump like +dear old Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork +disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him +against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. +Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might +cease to be one. Take my case, for instance. I'm a chump. Well, if I +had remembered half the things people have tried to teach me during my +life, my size in hats would be about number nine. But I didn't. I +forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie. + +For about a week, perhaps a bit more, the recollection of that quiet +little domestic evening bucked him up like a tonic. Elephants, I read +somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to +Bobbie during that week. But, bless you, the shock wasn't nearly big +enough. It had dinted the armour, but it hadn't made a hole in it. +Pretty soon he was back at the old game. + +It was pathetic, don't you know. The poor girl loved him, and she was +frightened. It was the thin edge of the wedge, you see, and she knew +it. A man who forgets what day he was married, when he's been married +one year, will forget, at about the end of the fourth, that he's +married at all. If she meant to get him in hand at all, she had got to +do it now, before he began to drift away. + +I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he +was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon. I can't +remember what it was that he had forgotten the day before, but it was +something she had asked him to bring home for her--it may have been a +book. + +"It's such a little thing to make a fuss about," said Bobbie. "And she +knows that it's simply because I've got such an infernal memory about +everything. I can't remember anything. Never could." + +He talked on for a while, and, just as he was going, he pulled out a +couple of sovereigns. + +"Oh, by the way," he said. + +"What's this for?" I asked, though I knew. + +"I owe it you." + +"How's that?" I said. + +"Why, that bet on Tuesday. In the billiard-room. Murray and Brown were +playing a hundred up, and I gave you two to one that Brown would win, +and Murray beat him by twenty odd." + +"So you do remember some things?" I said. + +He got quite excited. Said that if I thought he was the sort of rotter +who forgot to pay when he lost a bet, it was pretty rotten of me after +knowing him all these years, and a lot more like that. + +"Subside, laddie," I said. + +Then I spoke to him like a father. + +"What you've got to do, my old college chum," I said, "is to pull +yourself together, and jolly quick, too. As things are shaping, you're +due for a nasty knock before you know what's hit you. You've got to +make an effort. Don't say you can't. This two quid business shows that, +even if your memory is rocky, you can remember some things. What you've +got to do is to see that wedding anniversaries and so on are included +in the list. It may be a brainstrain, but you can't get out of it." + +"I suppose you're right," said Bobbie. "But it beats me why she thinks +such a lot of these rotten little dates. What's it matter if I forgot +what day we were married on or what day she was born on or what day the +cat had the measles? She knows I love her just as much as if I were a +memorizing freak at the halls." + +"That's not enough for a woman," I said. "They want to be shown. Bear +that in mind, and you're all right. Forget it, and there'll be +trouble." + +He chewed the knob of his stick. + +"Women are frightfully rummy," he said gloomily. + +"You should have thought of that before you married one," I said. + + * * * * * + +I don't see that I could have done any more. I had put the whole thing +in a nutshell for him. You would have thought he'd have seen the point, +and that it would have made him brace up and get a hold on himself. But +no. Off he went again in the same old way. I gave up arguing with him. +I had a good deal of time on my hands, but not enough to amount to +anything when it was a question of reforming dear old Bobbie by argument. +If you see a man asking for trouble, and insisting on getting it, the +only thing to do is to stand by and wait till it comes to him. After +that you may get a chance. But till then there's nothing to be done. +But I thought a lot about him. + +Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once. Weeks went by, and months, +and still nothing happened. Now and then he'd come into the club with a +kind of cloud on his shining morning face, and I'd know that there had +been doings in the home; but it wasn't till well on in the spring that +he got the thunderbolt just where he had been asking for it--in the +thorax. + +I was smoking a quiet cigarette one morning in the window looking out +over Piccadilly, and watching the buses and motors going up one way and +down the other--most interesting it is; I often do it--when in rushed +Bobbie, with his eyes bulging and his face the colour of an oyster, +waving a piece of paper in his hand. + +"Reggie," he said. "Reggie, old top, she's gone!" + +"Gone!" I said. "Who?" + +"Mary, of course! Gone! Left me! Gone!" + +"Where?" I said. + +Silly question? Perhaps you're right. Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly +foamed at the mouth. + +"Where? How should I know where? Here, read this." + +He pushed the paper into my hand. It was a letter. + +"Go on," said Bobbie. "Read it." + +So I did. It certainly was quite a letter. There was not much of it, +but it was all to the point. This is what it said: + + "MY DEAR BOBBIE,--I am going away. When you care enough about me + to remember to wish me many happy returns on my birthday, I will + come back. My address will be Box 341, _London Morning News_." + +I read it twice, then I said, "Well, why don't you?" + +"Why don't I what?" + +"Why don't you wish her many happy returns? It doesn't seem much to +ask." + +"But she says on her birthday." + +"Well, when is her birthday?" + +"Can't you understand?" said Bobbie. "I've forgotten." + +"Forgotten!" I said. + +"Yes," said Bobbie. "Forgotten." + +"How do you mean, forgotten?" I said. "Forgotten whether it's the +twentieth or the twenty-first, or what? How near do you get to it?" + +"I know it came somewhere between the first of January and the +thirty-first of December. That's how near I get to it." + +"Think." + +"Think? What's the use of saying 'Think'? Think I haven't thought? I've +been knocking sparks out of my brain ever since I opened that letter." + +"And you can't remember?" + +"No." + +I rang the bell and ordered restoratives. + +"Well, Bobbie," I said, "it's a pretty hard case to spring on an +untrained amateur like me. Suppose someone had come to Sherlock Holmes +and said, 'Mr. Holmes, here's a case for you. When is my wife's +birthday?' Wouldn't that have given Sherlock a jolt? However, I know +enough about the game to understand that a fellow can't shoot off his +deductive theories unless you start him with a clue, so rouse yourself +out of that pop-eyed trance and come across with two or three. For +instance, can't you remember the last time she had a birthday? What +sort of weather was it? That might fix the month." + +Bobbie shook his head. + +"It was just ordinary weather, as near as I can recollect." + +"Warm?" + +"Warmish." + +"Or cold?" + +"Well, fairly cold, perhaps. I can't remember." + +I ordered two more of the same. They seemed indicated in the Young +Detective's Manual. "You're a great help, Bobbie," I said. "An +invaluable assistant. One of those indispensable adjuncts without +which no home is complete." + +Bobbie seemed to be thinking. + +"I've got it," he said suddenly. "Look here. I gave her a present on +her last birthday. All we have to do is to go to the shop, hunt up the +date when it was bought, and the thing's done." + +"Absolutely. What did you give her?" + +He sagged. + +"I can't remember," he said. + +Getting ideas is like golf. Some days you're right off, others it's +as easy as falling off a log. I don't suppose dear old Bobbie had ever +had two ideas in the same morning before in his life; but now he did +it without an effort. He just loosed another dry Martini into the +undergrowth, and before you could turn round it had flushed quite a +brain-wave. + +Do you know those little books called _When were you Born_? +There's one for each month. They tell you your character, your talents, +your strong points, and your weak points at fourpence halfpenny a go. +Bobbie's idea was to buy the whole twelve, and go through them till we +found out which month hit off Mary's character. That would give us the +month, and narrow it down a whole lot. + +A pretty hot idea for a non-thinker like dear old Bobbie. We sallied +out at once. He took half and I took half, and we settled down to work. +As I say, it sounded good. But when we came to go into the thing, we +saw that there was a flaw. There was plenty of information all right, +but there wasn't a single month that didn't have something that exactly +hit off Mary. For instance, in the December book it said, "December +people are apt to keep their own secrets. They are extensive travellers." +Well, Mary had certainly kept her secret, and she had travelled quite +extensively enough for Bobbie's needs. Then, October people were "born +with original ideas" and "loved moving." You couldn't have summed +up Mary's little jaunt more neatly. February people had "wonderful +memories"--Mary's speciality. + +We took a bit of a rest, then had another go at the thing. + +Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that +month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a +happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women +"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and +expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was +about as like Mary as anything could be. + +In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went +home. + +It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old +Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It +represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the +middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that +is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had +a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think +in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his +brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow +human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was +all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these +brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all +over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would +only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been. It bore out the +idea I had always had that what he needed was a real good jolt. + +I saw a great deal of him these days. I was his best friend, and he +came to me for sympathy. I gave it him, too, with both hands, but I +never failed to hand him the Moral Lesson when I had him weak. + +One day he came to me as I was sitting in the club, and I could see +that he had had an idea. He looked happier than he had done in weeks. + +"Reggie," he said, "I'm on the trail. This time I'm convinced that I +shall pull it off. I've remembered something of vital importance." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"I remember distinctly," he said, "that on Mary's last birthday we went +together to the Coliseum. How does that hit you?" + +"It's a fine bit of memorizing," I said; "but how does it help?" + +"Why, they change the programme every week there." + +"Ah!" I said. "Now you are talking." + +"And the week we went one of the turns was Professor Some One's +Terpsichorean Cats. I recollect them distinctly. Now, are we narrowing +it down, or aren't we? Reggie, I'm going round to the Coliseum this +minute, and I'm going to dig the date of those Terpsichorean Cats out +of them, if I have to use a crowbar." + +So that got him within six days; for the management treated us like +brothers; brought out the archives, and ran agile fingers over the +pages till they treed the cats in the middle of May. + +"I told you it was May," said Bobbie. "Maybe you'll listen to me +another time." + +"If you've any sense," I said, "there won't be another time." + +And Bobbie said that there wouldn't. + +Once you get your memory on the run, it parts as if it enjoyed doing it. +I had just got off to sleep that night when my telephone-bell rang. It +was Bobbie, of course. He didn't apologize. + +"Reggie," he said, "I've got it now for certain. It's just come to me. +We saw those Terpsichorean Cats at a matinee, old man." + +"Yes?" I said. + +"Well, don't you see that that brings it down to two days? It must have +been either Wednesday the seventh or Saturday the tenth." + +"Yes," I said, "if they didn't have daily matinees at the Coliseum." + +I heard him give a sort of howl. + +"Bobbie," I said. My feet were freezing, but I was fond of him. + +"Well?" + +"I've remembered something too. It's this. The day you went to the +Coliseum I lunched with you both at the Ritz. You had forgotten to +bring any money with you, so you wrote a cheque." + +"But I'm always writing cheques." + +"You are. But this was for a tenner, and made out to the hotel. Hunt up +your cheque-book and see how many cheques for ten pounds payable to the +Ritz Hotel you wrote out between May the fifth and May the tenth." + +He gave a kind of gulp. + +"Reggie," he said, "you're a genius. I've always said so. I believe +you've got it. Hold the line." + +Presently he came back again. + +"Halloa!" he said. + +"I'm here," I said. + +"It was the eighth. Reggie, old man, I----" + +"Topping," I said. "Good night." + +It was working along into the small hours now, but I thought I might as +well make a night of it and finish the thing up, so I rang up an hotel +near the Strand. + +"Put me through to Mrs. Cardew," I said. + +"It's late," said the man at the other end. + +"And getting later every minute," I said. "Buck along, laddie." + +I waited patiently. I had missed my beauty-sleep, and my feet had +frozen hard, but I was past regrets. + +"What is the matter?" said Mary's voice. + +"My feet are cold," I said. "But I didn't call you up to tell you that +particularly. I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew." + +"Oh! is that Mr. Pepper?" + +"Yes. He's remembered it, Mrs. Cardew." + +She gave a sort of scream. I've often thought how interesting it must +be to be one of those Exchange girls. The things they must hear, don't +you know. Bobbie's howl and gulp and Mrs. Bobbie's scream and all about +my feet and all that. Most interesting it must be. + +"He's remembered it!" she gasped. "Did you tell him?" + +"No." + +Well, I hadn't. + +"Mr. Pepper." + +"Yes?" + +"Was he--has he been--was he very worried?" + +I chuckled. This was where I was billed to be the life and soul of the +party. + +"Worried! He was about the most worried man between here and Edinburgh. +He has been worrying as if he was paid to do it by the nation. He has +started out to worry after breakfast, and----" + +Oh, well, you can never tell with women. My idea was that we should +pass the rest of the night slapping each other on the back across the +wire, and telling each other what bally brainy conspirators we were, +don't you know, and all that. But I'd got just as far as this, when she +bit at me. Absolutely! I heard the snap. And then she said "Oh!" in +that choked kind of way. And when a woman says "Oh!" like that, it +means all the bad words she'd love to say if she only knew them. + +And then she began. + +"What brutes men are! What horrid brutes! How you could stand by and +see poor dear Bobbie worrying himself into a fever, when a word from +you would have put everything right, I can't----" + +"But----" + +"And you call yourself his friend! His friend!" (Metallic laugh, most +unpleasant.) "It shows how one can be deceived. I used to think you a +kind-hearted man." + +"But, I say, when I suggested the thing, you thought it perfectly----" + +"I thought it hateful, abominable." + +"But you said it was absolutely top----" + +"I said nothing of the kind. And if I did, I didn't mean it. I don't +wish to be unjust, Mr. Pepper, but I must say that to me there seems to +be something positively fiendish in a man who can go out of his way to +separate a husband from his wife, simply in order to amuse himself by +gloating over his agony----" + +"But----!" + +"When one single word would have----" + +"But you made me promise not to----" I bleated. + +"And if I did, do you suppose I didn't expect you to have the sense to +break your promise?" + +I had finished. I had no further observations to make. I hung up the +receiver, and crawled into bed. + + * * * * * + +I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit +the old homestead. He is friendly, but he stops short of issuing +invitations. I ran across Mary at the Academy last week, and her eyes +went through me like a couple of bullets through a pat of butter. And +as they came out the other side, and I limped off to piece myself +together again, there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I +am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: +"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every +minute." + + + + +HELPING FREDDIE + + +I don't want to bore you, don't you know, and all that sort of rot, but +I must tell you about dear old Freddie Meadowes. I'm not a flier at +literary style, and all that, but I'll get some writer chappie to give +the thing a wash and brush up when I've finished, so that'll be all +right. + +Dear old Freddie, don't you know, has been a dear old pal of mine for +years and years; so when I went into the club one morning and found him +sitting alone in a dark corner, staring glassily at nothing, and +generally looking like the last rose of summer, you can understand I +was quite disturbed about it. As a rule, the old rotter is the life and +soul of our set. Quite the little lump of fun, and all that sort of +thing. + +Jimmy Pinkerton was with me at the time. Jimmy's a fellow who writes +plays--a deuced brainy sort of fellow--and between us we set to work to +question the poor pop-eyed chappie, until finally we got at what the +matter was. + +As we might have guessed, it was a girl. He had had a quarrel with +Angela West, the girl he was engaged to, and she had broken off the +engagement. What the row had been about he didn't say, but apparently +she was pretty well fed up. She wouldn't let him come near her, refused +to talk on the phone, and sent back his letters unopened. + +I was sorry for poor old Freddie. I knew what it felt like. I was once +in love myself with a girl called Elizabeth Shoolbred, and the fact +that she couldn't stand me at any price will be recorded in my +autobiography. I knew the thing for Freddie. + +"Change of scene is what you want, old scout," I said. "Come with me to +Marvis Bay. I've taken a cottage there. Jimmy's coming down on the +twenty-fourth. We'll be a cosy party." + +"He's absolutely right," said Jimmy. "Change of scene's the thing. I +knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl +wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; +suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never +answered at all." + +But Freddie wouldn't be comforted. He just went on looking as if he had +swallowed his last sixpence. However, I got him to promise to come to +Marvis Bay with me. He said he might as well be there as anywhere. + +Do you know Marvis Bay? It's in Dorsetshire. It isn't what you'd call a +fiercely exciting spot, but it has its good points. You spend the day +there bathing and sitting on the sands, and in the evening you stroll +out on the shore with the gnats. At nine o'clock you rub ointment on +the wounds and go to bed. + +It seemed to suit poor old Freddie. Once the moon was up and the breeze +sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with a +rope. He became quite a popular pet with the gnats. They'd hang round +waiting for him to come out, and would give perfectly good strollers +the miss-in-baulk just so as to be in good condition for him. + +Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life, but by the end of the first week I +began to wish that Jimmy Pinkerton had arranged to come down earlier: +for as a companion Freddie, poor old chap, wasn't anything to write +home to mother about. When he wasn't chewing a pipe and scowling at the +carpet, he was sitting at the piano, playing "The Rosary" with one +finger. He couldn't play anything except "The Rosary," and he couldn't +play much of that. Somewhere round about the third bar a fuse would +blow out, and he'd have to start all over again. + +He was playing it as usual one morning when I came in from bathing. + +"Reggie," he said, in a hollow voice, looking up, "I've seen her." + +"Seen her?" I said. "What, Miss West?" + +"I was down at the post office, getting the letters, and we met in the +doorway. She cut me!" + +He started "The Rosary" again, and side-slipped in the second bar. + +"Reggie," he said, "you ought never to have brought me here. I must go +away." + +"Go away?" I said. "Don't talk such rot. This is the best thing that +could have happened. This is where you come out strong." + +"She cut me." + +"Never mind. Be a sportsman. Have another dash at her." + +"She looked clean through me!" + +"Of course she did. But don't mind that. Put this thing in my hands. +I'll see you through. Now, what you want," I said, "is to place her +under some obligation to you. What you want is to get her timidly +thanking you. What you want----" + +"But what's she going to thank me timidly for?" + +I thought for a moment. + +"Look out for a chance and save her from drowning," I said. + +"I can't swim," said Freddie. + +That was Freddie all over, don't you know. A dear old chap in a +thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean. + +He cranked up the piano once more and I sprinted for the open. + +I strolled out on to the sands and began to think this thing over. +There was no doubt that the brain-work had got to be done by me. Dear +old Freddie had his strong qualities. He was top-hole at polo, and in +happier days I've heard him give an imitation of cats fighting in a +backyard that would have surprised you. But apart from that he wasn't a +man of enterprise. + +Well, don't you know, I was rounding some rocks, with my brain whirring +like a dynamo, when I caught sight of a blue dress, and, by Jove, it +was the girl. I had never met her, but Freddie had sixteen photographs +of her sprinkled round his bedroom, and I knew I couldn't be mistaken. +She was sitting on the sand, helping a small, fat child build a castle. +On a chair close by was an elderly lady reading a novel. I heard the +girl call her "aunt." So, doing the Sherlock Holmes business, I deduced +that the fat child was her cousin. It struck me that if Freddie had +been there he would probably have tried to work up some sentiment about +the kid on the strength of it. Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't +think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one +of those round, bulging kids. + +After he had finished the castle he seemed to get bored with life, and +began to whimper. The girl took him off to where a fellow was selling +sweets at a stall. And I walked on. + +Now, fellows, if you ask them, will tell you that I'm a chump. Well, I +don't mind. I admit it. I _am_ a chump. All the Peppers have been +chumps. But what I do say is that every now and then, when you'd least +expect it, I get a pretty hot brain-wave; and that's what happened now. +I doubt if the idea that came to me then would have occurred to a +single one of any dozen of the brainiest chappies you care to name. + +It came to me on my return journey. I was walking back along the shore, +when I saw the fat kid meditatively smacking a jelly-fish with a spade. +The girl wasn't with him. In fact, there didn't seem to be any one in +sight. I was just going to pass on when I got the brain-wave. I thought +the whole thing out in a flash, don't you know. From what I had seen of +the two, the girl was evidently fond of this kid, and, anyhow, he was +her cousin, so what I said to myself was this: If I kidnap this young +heavy-weight for the moment, and if, when the girl has got frightfully +anxious about where he can have got to, dear old Freddie suddenly +appears leading the infant by the hand and telling a story to the +effect that he has found him wandering at large about the country and +practically saved his life, why, the girl's gratitude is bound to make +her chuck hostilities and be friends again. So I gathered in the kid +and made off with him. All the way home I pictured that scene of +reconciliation. I could see it so vividly, don't you know, that, by +George, it gave me quite a choky feeling in my throat. + +Freddie, dear old chap, was rather slow at getting on to the fine +points of the idea. When I appeared, carrying the kid, and dumped him +down in our sitting-room, he didn't absolutely effervesce with joy, if +you know what I mean. The kid had started to bellow by this time, and +poor old Freddie seemed to find it rather trying. + +"Stop it!" he said. "Do you think nobody's got any troubles except you? +What the deuce is all this, Reggie?" + +The kid came back at him with a yell that made the window rattle. I +raced to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. It was the right +stuff. The kid stopped bellowing and began to smear his face with the +stuff. + +"Well?" said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. +After a while it began to strike him. + +"You're not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie," he said +handsomely. "I'm bound to say this seems pretty good." + +And he disentangled the kid from the honey-jar and took him out, to +scour the beach for Angela. + +I don't know when I've felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie +that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again +made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds. I was +leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking peacefully, when down +the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still +with him. And Freddie looked as if he hadn't a friend in the world. + +"Hello!" I said. "Couldn't you find her?" + +"Yes, I found her," he replied, with one of those bitter, hollow +laughs. + +"Well, then----?" + +Freddie sank into a chair and groaned. + +"This isn't her cousin, you idiot!" he said. + +"He's no relation at all. He's just a kid she happened to meet on the +beach. She had never seen him before in her life." + +"What! Who is he, then?" + +"I don't know. Oh, Lord, I've had a time! Thank goodness you'll +probably spend the next few years of your life in Dartmoor for +kidnapping. That's my only consolation. I'll come and jeer at you +through the bars." + +"Tell me all, old boy," I said. + +It took him a good long time to tell the story, for he broke off in the +middle of nearly every sentence to call me names, but I gathered +gradually what had happened. She had listened like an iceberg while he +told the story he had prepared, and then--well, she didn't actually +call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of +way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping +stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record. And then he had +crawled away with the kid, licked to a splinter. + +"And mind, this is your affair," he concluded. "I'm not mixed up in it +at all. If you want to escape your sentence, you'd better go and find +the kid's parents and return him before the police come for you." + + * * * * * + +By Jove, you know, till I started to tramp the place with this infernal +kid, I never had a notion it would have been so deuced difficult to +restore a child to its anxious parents. It's a mystery to me how +kidnappers ever get caught. I searched Marvis Bay like a bloodhound, +but nobody came forward to claim the infant. You'd have thought, from +the lack of interest in him, that he was stopping there all by himself +in a cottage of his own. It wasn't till, by an inspiration, I thought +to ask the sweet-stall man that I found out that his name was Medwin, +and that his parents lived at a place called Ocean Rest, in Beach Road. + +I shot off there like an arrow and knocked at the door. Nobody +answered. I knocked again. I could hear movements inside, but nobody +came. I was just going to get to work on that knocker in such a way +that the idea would filter through into these people's heads that I +wasn't standing there just for the fun of the thing, when a voice from +somewhere above shouted, "Hi!" + +I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and +west of it, staring down from an upper window. + +"Hi!" it shouted again. + +"What the deuce do you mean by 'Hi'?" I said. + +"You can't come in," said the face. "Hello, is that Tootles?" + +"My name is not Tootles, and I don't want to come in," I said. "Are you +Mr. Medwin? I've brought back your son." + +"I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see 'oo!" + +The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face +reappeared. + +"Hi!" + +I churned the gravel madly. + +"Do you live here?" said the face. + +"I'm staying here for a few weeks." + +"What's your name?" + +"Pepper. But----" + +"Pepper? Any relation to Edward Pepper, the colliery owner?" + +"My uncle. But----" + +"I used to know him well. Dear old Edward Pepper! I wish I was with him +now." + +"I wish you were," I said. + +He beamed down at me. + +"This is most fortunate," he said. "We were wondering what we were to +do with Tootles. You see, we have the mumps here. My daughter Bootles +has just developed mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of +infection. We could not think what we were to do with him. It was most +fortunate your finding him. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate +to trust him to the care of a stranger, but you are different. Any +nephew of Edward Pepper's has my implicit confidence. You must take +Tootles to your house. It will be an ideal arrangement. I have written +to my brother in London to come and fetch him. He may be here in a few +days." + +"May!" + +"He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within a +week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan. +Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles." + +"I haven't got a wife," I yelled; but the window had closed with a +bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to +escape, don't you know, and had headed it off just in time. + +I breathed a deep breath and wiped my forehead. + +The window flew up again. + +"Hi!" + +A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a +bomb. + +"Did you catch it?" said the face, reappearing. "Dear me, you missed +it! Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's +Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a +little milk. Be certain to get Bailey's." + +My spirit was broken, if you know what I mean. I accepted the situation. +Taking Tootles by the hand, I walked slowly away. Napoleon's retreat +from Moscow was a picnic by the side of it. + +As we turned up the road we met Freddie's Angela. + +The sight of her had a marked effect on the kid Tootles. He pointed at +her and said, "Wah!" + +The girl stopped and smiled. I loosed the kid, and he ran to her. + +"Well, baby?" she said, bending down to him. "So father found you +again, did he? Your little son and I made friends on the beach this +morning," she said to me. + +This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered +lunatic it so utterly unnerved me, don't you know, that she had nodded +good-bye and was half-way down the road before I caught up with my +breath enough to deny the charge of being the infant's father. + +I hadn't expected dear old Freddie to sing with joy when he found out +what had happened, but I did think he might have shown a little more +manly fortitude. He leaped up, glared at the kid, and clutched his +head. He didn't speak for a long time, but, on the other hand, when he +began he did not leave off for a long time. He was quite emotional, +dear old boy. It beat me where he could have picked up such +expressions. + +"Well," he said, when he had finished, "say something! Heavens! man, +why don't you say something?" + +"You don't give me a chance, old top," I said soothingly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can we do about it?" + +"We can't spend our time acting as nurses to this--this exhibit." + +He got up. + +"I'm going back to London," he said. + +"Freddie!" I cried. "Freddie, old man!" My voice shook. "Would you +desert a pal at a time like this?" + +"I would. This is your business, and you've got to manage it." + +"Freddie," I said, "you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize +that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You +wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed? Freddie, old scout, we +were at school together. Your mother likes me. You owe me a tenner." + +He sat down again. + +"Oh, well," he said resignedly. + +"Besides, old top," I said, "I did it all for your sake, don't you +know?" + +He looked at me in a curious way. + +"Reggie," he said, in a strained voice, "one moment. I'll stand a good +deal, but I won't stand for being expected to be grateful." + +Looking back at it, I see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in that +crisis was my bright idea of buying up most of the contents of the +local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically +incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty +satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair, and, having +undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there +were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed. + +Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor and I knew +what he was thinking. To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere +matter of muscle. But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I +stirred the pile with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which +might have been anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like +nothing on earth. We looked at each other and smiled wanly. + +But in the morning I remembered that there were children at the next +bungalow but one. We went there before breakfast and borrowed their +nurse. Women are wonderful, by George they are! She had that kid +dressed and looking fit for anything in about eight minutes. I showered +wealth on her, and she promised to come in morning and evening. I sat +down to breakfast almost cheerful again. It was the first bit of silver +lining there had been to the cloud up to date. + +"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a +child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and +domestic--what!" + +Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he +had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a +much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, +the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide. + +Two days later Jimmy Pinkerton came down. Jimmy took one look at the +kid, who happened to be howling at the moment, and picked up his +portmanteau. + +"For me," he said, "the hotel. I can't write dialogue with that sort of +thing going on. Whose work is this? Which of you adopted this little +treasure?" + +I told him about Mr. Medwin and the mumps. Jimmy seemed interested. + +"I might work this up for the stage," he said. "It wouldn't make a bad +situation for act two of a farce." + +"Farce!" snarled poor old Freddie. + +"Rather. Curtain of act one on hero, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot just like--that is to say, a well-meaning, half-baked sort of +idiot, kidnapping the child. Second act, his adventures with it. I'll +rough it out to-night. Come along and show me the hotel, Reggie." + +As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid +down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses. + +"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the +old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping +child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre. +Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the +piano?" + +"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger." + +Jimmy shook his head. + +"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right. +Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit +of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up +to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' +Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses +L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big +speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very +well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes +us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just +giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the +child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We +want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and +has the punch." + +"But, Jimmy, old top," I said, "the only objection is, don't you know, +that there's no way of getting the girl to the cottage. She cuts +Freddie. She wouldn't come within a mile of him." + +Jimmy frowned. + +"That's awkward," he said. "Well, we shall have to make it an exterior set +instead of an interior. We can easily corner her on the beach somewhere, +when we're ready. Meanwhile, we must get the kid letter-perfect. First +rehearsal for lines and business eleven sharp to-morrow." + +Poor old Freddie was in such a gloomy state of mind that we decided not +to tell him the idea till we had finished coaching the kid. He wasn't +in the mood to have a thing like that hanging over him. So we +concentrated on Tootles. And pretty early in the proceedings we saw +that the only way to get Tootles worked up to the spirit of the thing +was to introduce sweets of some sort as a sub-motive, so to speak. + +"The chief difficulty," said Jimmy Pinkerton at the end of the first +rehearsal, "is to establish a connection in the kid's mind between his +line and the sweets. Once he has grasped the basic fact that those two +words, clearly spoken, result automatically in acid-drops, we have got +a success." + +I've often thought, don't you know, how interesting it must be to be +one of those animal-trainer Johnnies: to stimulate the dawning +intelligence, and that sort of thing. Well, this was every bit as +exciting. Some days success seemed to be staring us in the eye, and the +kid got the line out as if he'd been an old professional. And then he'd +go all to pieces again. And time was flying. + +"We must hurry up, Jimmy," I said. "The kid's uncle may arrive any day +now and take him away." + +"And we haven't an understudy," said Jimmy. "There's something in that. +We must work! My goodness, that kid's a bad study. I've known deaf-mutes +who would have learned the part quicker." + +I will say this for the kid, though: he was a trier. Failure didn't +discourage him. Whenever there was any kind of sweet near he had a dash +at his line, and kept on saying something till he got what he was +after. His only fault was his uncertainty. Personally, I would have +been prepared to risk it, and start the performance at the first +opportunity, but Jimmy said no. + +"We're not nearly ready," said Jimmy. "To-day, for instance, he said +'Kick Freddie.' That's not going to win any girl's heart. And she might +do it, too. No; we must postpone production awhile yet." + +But, by George, we didn't. The curtain went up the very next afternoon. + +It was nobody's fault--certainly not mine. It was just Fate. Freddie +had settled down at the piano, and I was leading the kid out of the +house to exercise it, when, just as we'd got out to the veranda, along +came the girl Angela on her way to the beach. The kid set up his usual +yell at the sight of her, and she stopped at the foot of the steps. + +"Hello, baby!" she said. "Good morning," she said to me. "May I come +up?" + +She didn't wait for an answer. She just came. She seemed to be that +sort of girl. She came up on the veranda and started fussing over the +kid. And six feet away, mind you, Freddie smiting the piano in the +sitting-room. It was a dash disturbing situation, don't you know. At +any minute Freddie might take it into his head to come out on to the +veranda, and we hadn't even begun to rehearse him in his part. + +I tried to break up the scene. + +"We were just going down to the beach," I said. + +"Yes?" said the girl. She listened for a moment. "So you're having your +piano tuned?" she said. "My aunt has been trying to find a tuner for +ours. Do you mind if I go in and tell this man to come on to us when +he's finished here?" + +"Er--not yet!" I said. "Not yet, if you don't mind. He can't bear to be +disturbed when he's working. It's the artistic temperament. I'll tell +him later." + +"Very well," she said, getting up to go. "Ask him to call at Pine +Bungalow. West is the name. Oh, he seems to have stopped. I suppose he +will be out in a minute now. I'll wait." + +"Don't you think--shouldn't we be going on to the beach?" I said. + +She had started talking to the kid and didn't hear. She was feeling in +her pocket for something. + +"The beach," I babbled. + +"See what I've brought for you, baby," she said. And, by George, don't +you know, she held up in front of the kid's bulging eyes a chunk of +toffee about the size of the Automobile Club. + +That finished it. We had just been having a long rehearsal, and the kid +was all worked up in his part. He got it right first time. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shouted. + +And the front door opened, and Freddie came out on to the veranda, for +all the world as if he had been taking a cue. + +He looked at the girl, and the girl looked at him. I looked at the +ground, and the kid looked at the toffee. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he yelled. "Kiss Fweddie!" + +The girl was still holding up the toffee, and the kid did what Jimmy +Pinkerton would have called "business of outstretched hands" towards +it. + +"Kiss Fweddie!" he shrieked. + +"What does this mean?" said the girl, turning to me. + +"You'd better give it to him, don't you know," I said. "He'll go on +till you do." + +She gave the kid his toffee, and he subsided. Poor old Freddie still +stood there gaping, without a word. + +"What does it mean?" said the girl again. Her face was pink, and her +eyes were sparkling in the sort of way, don't you know, that makes a +fellow feel as if he hadn't any bones in him, if you know what I mean. +Did you ever tread on your partner's dress at a dance and tear it, and +see her smile at you like an angel and say: "_Please_ don't apologize. +It's nothing," and then suddenly meet her clear blue eyes and feel as +if you had stepped on the teeth of a rake and had the handle jump up +and hit you in the face? Well, that's how Freddie's Angela looked. + +"_Well?_" she said, and her teeth gave a little click. + +I gulped. Then I said it was nothing. Then I said it was nothing much. +Then I said, "Oh, well, it was this way." And, after a few brief +remarks about Jimmy Pinkerton, I told her all about it. And all the +while Idiot Freddie stood there gaping, without a word. + +And the girl didn't speak, either. She just stood listening. + +And then she began to laugh. I never heard a girl laugh so much. She +leaned against the side of the veranda and shrieked. And all the while +Freddie, the World's Champion Chump, stood there, saying nothing. + +Well I sidled towards the steps. I had said all I had to say, and it +seemed to me that about here the stage-direction "exit" was written in +my part. I gave poor old Freddie up in despair. If only he had said a +word, it might have been all right. But there he stood, speechless. +What can a fellow do with a fellow like that? + +Just out of sight of the house I met Jimmy Pinkerton. + +"Hello, Reggie!" he said. "I was just coming to you. Where's the kid? +We must have a big rehearsal to-day." + +"No good," I said sadly. "It's all over. The thing's finished. Poor +dear old Freddie has made an ass of himself and killed the whole show." + +"Tell me," said Jimmy. + +I told him. + +"Fluffed in his lines, did he?" said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. "It's +always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things +look bad, but it may not be too late," he said as we started. "Even now +a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and----" + +"Great Scot!" I cried. "Look!" + +In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow +from the grocer's staring. From the windows of the houses opposite +projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the +road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy, +about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as +if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped +in each other's arms. + + * * * * * + +Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his +business had certainly gone with a bang! + + + + +RALLYING ROUND OLD GEORGE + + +I think one of the rummiest affairs I was ever mixed up with, in the +course of a lifetime devoted to butting into other people's business, +was that affair of George Lattaker at Monte Carlo. I wouldn't bore you, +don't you know, for the world, but I think you ought to hear about it. + +We had come to Monte Carlo on the yacht _Circe_, belonging to an +old sportsman of the name of Marshall. Among those present were myself, +my man Voules, a Mrs. Vanderley, her daughter Stella, Mrs. Vanderley's +maid Pilbeam and George. + +George was a dear old pal of mine. In fact, it was I who had worked him +into the party. You see, George was due to meet his Uncle Augustus, who +was scheduled, George having just reached his twenty-fifth birthday, to +hand over to him a legacy left by one of George's aunts, for which he +had been trustee. The aunt had died when George was quite a kid. It was +a date that George had been looking forward to; for, though he had a +sort of income--an income, after-all, is only an income, whereas a +chunk of o' goblins is a pile. George's uncle was in Monte Carlo, and +had written George that he would come to London and unbelt; but it +struck me that a far better plan was for George to go to his uncle at +Monte Carlo instead. Kill two birds with one stone, don't you know. Fix +up his affairs and have a pleasant holiday simultaneously. So George +had tagged along, and at the time when the trouble started we were +anchored in Monaco Harbour, and Uncle Augustus was due next day. + + * * * * * + +Looking back, I may say that, so far as I was mixed up in it, the +thing began at seven o'clock in the morning, when I was aroused from +a dreamless sleep by the dickens of a scrap in progress outside my +state-room door. The chief ingredients were a female voice that sobbed +and said: "Oh, Harold!" and a male voice "raised in anger," as they say, +which after considerable difficulty, I identified as Voules's. I hardly +recognized it. In his official capacity Voules talks exactly like you'd +expect a statue to talk, if it could. In private, however, he evidently +relaxed to some extent, and to have that sort of thing going on in my +midst at that hour was too much for me. + +"Voules!" I yelled. + +Spion Kop ceased with a jerk. There was silence, then sobs diminishing +in the distance, and finally a tap at the door. Voules entered with +that impressive, my-lord-the-carriage-waits look which is what I pay +him for. You wouldn't have believed he had a drop of any sort of +emotion in him. + +"Voules," I said, "are you under the delusion that I'm going to be +Queen of the May? You've called me early all right. It's only just +seven." + +"I understood you to summon me, sir." + +"I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise +outside." + +"I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment +I raised my voice." + +"It's a wonder you didn't raise the roof. Who was that with you?" + +"Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley's maid." + +"What was all the trouble about?" + +"I was breaking our engagement, sir." + +I couldn't help gaping. Somehow one didn't associate Voules with +engagements. Then it struck me that I'd no right to butt in on his +secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation. + +"I think I'll get up," I said. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I can't wait to breakfast with the rest. Can you get me some right +away?" + +"Yes, sir." + +So I had a solitary breakfast and went up on deck to smoke. It was +a lovely morning. Blue sea, gleaming Casino, cloudless sky, and all +the rest of the hippodrome. Presently the others began to trickle up. +Stella Vanderley was one of the first. I thought she looked a bit +pale and tired. She said she hadn't slept well. That accounted for +it. Unless you get your eight hours, where are you? + +"Seen George?" I asked. + +I couldn't help thinking the name seemed to freeze her a bit. Which was +queer, because all the voyage she and George had been particularly +close pals. In fact, at any moment I expected George to come to me and +slip his little hand in mine, and whisper: "I've done it, old scout; +she loves muh!" + +"I have not seen Mr. Lattaker," she said. + +I didn't pursue the subject. George's stock was apparently low that +a.m. + +The next item in the day's programme occurred a few minutes later when +the morning papers arrived. + +Mrs. Vanderley opened hers and gave a scream. + +"The poor, dear Prince!" she said. + +"What a shocking thing!" said old Marshall. + +"I knew him in Vienna," said Mrs. Vanderley. "He waltzed divinely." + +Then I got at mine and saw what they were talking about. The paper was +full of it. It seemed that late the night before His Serene Highness +the Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz (I always wonder why they call these +chaps "Serene") had been murderously assaulted in a dark street on +his way back from the Casino to his yacht. Apparently he had developed +the habit of going about without an escort, and some rough-neck, taking +advantage of this, had laid for him and slugged him with considerable +vim. The Prince had been found lying pretty well beaten up and insensible +in the street by a passing pedestrian, and had been taken back to his +yacht, where he still lay unconscious. + +"This is going to do somebody no good," I said. "What do you get for +slugging a Serene Highness? I wonder if they'll catch the fellow?" + +"'Later,'" read old Marshall, "'the pedestrian who discovered His +Serene Highness proves to have been Mr. Denman Sturgis, the eminent +private investigator. Mr. Sturgis has offered his services to the +police, and is understood to be in possession of a most important +clue.' That's the fellow who had charge of that kidnapping case in +Chicago. If anyone can catch the man, he can." + +About five minutes later, just as the rest of them were going to move +off to breakfast, a boat hailed us and came alongside. A tall, thin man +came up the gangway. He looked round the group, and fixed on old +Marshall as the probable owner of the yacht. + +"Good morning," he said. "I believe you have a Mr. Lattaker on +board--Mr. George Lattaker?" + +"Yes," said Marshall. "He's down below. Want to see him? Whom shall I +say?" + +"He would not know my name. I should like to see him for a moment on +somewhat urgent business." + +"Take a seat. He'll be up in a moment. Reggie, my boy, go and hurry him +up." + +I went down to George's state-room. + +"George, old man!" I shouted. + +No answer. I opened the door and went in. The room was empty. What's +more, the bunk hadn't been slept in. I don't know when I've been more +surprised. I went on deck. + +"He isn't there," I said. + +"Not there!" said old Marshall. "Where is he, then? Perhaps he's gone +for a stroll ashore. But he'll be back soon for breakfast. You'd better +wait for him. Have you breakfasted? No? Then will you join us?" + +The man said he would, and just then the gong went and they trooped +down, leaving me alone on deck. + +I sat smoking and thinking, and then smoking a bit more, when I thought +I heard somebody call my name in a sort of hoarse whisper. I looked +over my shoulder, and, by Jove, there at the top of the gangway in +evening dress, dusty to the eyebrows and without a hat, was dear old +George. + +"Great Scot!" I cried. + +"'Sh!" he whispered. "Anyone about?" + +"They're all down at breakfast." + +He gave a sigh of relief, sank into my chair, and closed his eyes. I +regarded him with pity. The poor old boy looked a wreck. + +"I say!" I said, touching him on the shoulder. + +He leaped out of the chair with a smothered yell. + +"Did you do that? What did you do it for? What's the sense of it? How +do you suppose you can ever make yourself popular if you go about +touching people on the shoulder? My nerves are sticking a yard out of +my body this morning, Reggie!" + +"Yes, old boy?" + +"I did a murder last night." + +"What?" + +"It's the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella +Vanderley broke off our engagement I----" + +"Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?" + +"About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn't a stop-watch. I +proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was +just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming +along the corridor was that infernal what's-her-name--Mrs. Vanderley's +maid--Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, +Reggie?" + +"Never. I've been refused dozens----" + +"Then you won't understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I +hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest +thing handy. I couldn't wait. It might have been the ship's cat. It +wasn't. It was Pilbeam." + +"You kissed her?" + +"I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened +and out came Stella." + +"Great Scott!" + +"Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, +not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It +did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed +off. I was mad. I didn't care what became of me. I simply wanted to +forget. I went ashore. I--It's just on the cards that I may have drowned +my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don't remember a thing, except that I can +recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street +and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all +I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I've lost my +hat." + +I dived for the paper. + +"Read," I said. "It's all there." + +He read. + +"Good heavens!" he said. + +"You didn't do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?" + +"Reggie, this is awful." + +"Cheer up. They say he'll recover." + +"That doesn't matter." + +"It does to him." + +He read the paper again. + +"It says they've a clue." + +"They always say that." + +"But--My hat!" + +"Eh?" + +"My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman +Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!" + +"George," I said, "you mustn't waste time. Oh!" + +He jumped a foot in the air. + +"Don't do it!" he said, irritably. "Don't bark like that. What's the +matter?" + +"The man!" + +"What man?" + +"A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you +did. He's down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted +to see you on business, and wouldn't give his name. I didn't like the +look of him from the first. It's this fellow Sturgis. It must be." + +"No!" + +"I feel it. I'm sure of it." + +"Had he a hat?" + +"Of course he had a hat." + +"Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?" + +"By Jove, he _was_ carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must +get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your +life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is _lese-majeste_. +It's worse than hitting a policeman. You haven't got a moment to +waste." + +"But I haven't any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or +something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I'll wire +my uncle to meet me in----" + +"Look out," I cried; "there's someone coming!" + +He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, +carrying a letter on a tray. + +"What's the matter!" I said. "What do you want?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker's voice. A +letter has arrived for him." + +"He isn't here." + +"No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?" + +"No; give it to me. I'll give it to him when he comes." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to +see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?" + +"He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir." + +"Ah! That's all, Voules." + +"Thank you, sir." + +He retired. I called to George, and he came out. + +"Who was it?" + +"Only Voules. He brought a letter for you. They're all at breakfast +still. The sleuth's eating kippers." + +"That'll hold him for a bit. Full of bones." He began to read his +letter. He gave a kind of grunt of surprise at the first paragraph. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" he said, as he finished. + +"Reggie, this is a queer thing." + +"What's that?" + +He handed me the letter, and directly I started in on it I saw why he +had grunted. This is how it ran: + + "My dear George--I shall be seeing you to-morrow, I hope; but I + think it is better, before we meet, to prepare you for a curious + situation that has arisen in connection with the legacy which + your father inherited from your Aunt Emily, and which you are + expecting me, as trustee, to hand over to you, now that you have + reached your twenty-fifth birthday. You have doubtless heard + your father speak of your twin-brother Alfred, who was lost or + kidnapped--which, was never ascertained--when you were both + babies. When no news was received of him for so many years, it + was supposed that he was dead. Yesterday, however, I received a + letter purporting that he had been living all this time in Buenos + Ayres as the adopted son of a wealthy South American, and has + only recently discovered his identity. He states that he is on + his way to meet me, and will arrive any day now. Of course, like + other claimants, he may prove to be an impostor, but meanwhile + his intervention will, I fear, cause a certain delay before I can + hand over your money to you. It will be necessary to go into a + thorough examination of credentials, etc., and this will take + some time. But I will go fully into the matter with you when we + meet.--Your affectionate uncle, + + "AUGUSTUS ARBUTT." + +I read it through twice, and the second time I had one of those ideas I +do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class. I +have seldom had such a thoroughly corking brain-wave. + +"Why, old top," I said, "this lets you out." + +"Lets me out of half the darned money, if that's what you mean. If this +chap's not an imposter--and there's no earthly reason to suppose he is, +though I've never heard my father say a word about him--we shall have +to split the money. Aunt Emily's will left the money to my father, or, +failing him, his 'offspring.' I thought that meant me, but apparently +there are a crowd of us. I call it rotten work, springing unexpected +offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this." + +"Why, you chump," I said, "it's going to save you. This lets you out of +your spectacular dash across the frontier. All you've got to do is to +stay here and be your brother Alfred. It came to me in a flash." + +He looked at me in a kind of dazed way. + +"You ought to be in some sort of a home, Reggie." + +"Ass!" I cried. "Don't you understand? Have you ever heard of +twin-brothers who weren't exactly alike? Who's to say you aren't +Alfred if you swear you are? Your uncle will be there to back you +up that you have a brother Alfred." + +"And Alfred will be there to call me a liar." + +"He won't. It's not as if you had to keep it up for the rest of your +life. It's only for an hour or two, till we can get this detective +off the yacht. We sail for England to-morrow morning." + +At last the thing seemed to sink into him. His face brightened. + +"Why, I really do believe it would work," he said. + +"Of course it would work. If they want proof, show them your mole. I'll +swear George hadn't one." + +"And as Alfred I should get a chance of talking to Stella and making +things all right for George. Reggie, old top, you're a genius." + +"No, no." + +"You _are_." + +"Well, it's only sometimes. I can't keep it up." + +And just then there was a gentle cough behind us. We spun round. + +"What the devil are you doing here, Voules," I said. + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I have heard all." + +I looked at George. George looked at me. + +"Voules is all right," I said. "Decent Voules! Voules wouldn't give us +away, would you, Voules?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You would?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"But, Voules, old man," I said, "be sensible. What would you gain by +it?" + +"Financially, sir, nothing." + +"Whereas, by keeping quiet"--I tapped him on the chest--"by holding +your tongue, Voules, by saying nothing about it to anybody, Voules, old +fellow, you might gain a considerable sum." + +"Am I to understand, sir, that, because you are rich and I am poor, you +think that you can buy my self-respect?" + +"Oh, come!" I said. + +"How much?" said Voules. + +So we switched to terms. You wouldn't believe the way the man haggled. +You'd have thought a decent, faithful servant would have been delighted +to oblige one in a little matter like that for a fiver. But not Voules. +By no means. It was a hundred down, and the promise of another hundred +when we had got safely away, before he was satisfied. But we fixed it +up at last, and poor old George got down to his state-room and changed +his clothes. + +He'd hardly gone when the breakfast-party came on deck. + +"Did you meet him?" I asked. + +"Meet whom?" said old Marshall. + +"George's twin-brother Alfred." + +"I didn't know George had a brother." + +"Nor did he till yesterday. It's a long story. He was kidnapped in +infancy, and everyone thought he was dead. George had a letter from his +uncle about him yesterday. I shouldn't wonder if that's where George +has gone, to see his uncle and find out about it. In the meantime, +Alfred has arrived. He's down in George's state-room now, having a +brush-up. It'll amaze you, the likeness between them. You'll think it +_is_ George at first. Look! Here he comes." + +And up came George, brushed and clean, in an ordinary yachting suit. + +They were rattled. There was no doubt about that. They stood looking at +him, as if they thought there was a catch somewhere, but weren't quite +certain where it was. I introduced him, and still they looked doubtful. + +"Mr. Pepper tells me my brother is not on board," said George. + +"It's an amazing likeness," said old Marshall. + +"Is my brother like me?" asked George amiably. + +"No one could tell you apart," I said. + +"I suppose twins always are alike," said George. "But if it ever came +to a question of identification, there would be one way of +distinguishing us. Do you know George well, Mr. Pepper?" + +"He's a dear old pal of mine." + +"You've been swimming with him perhaps?" + +"Every day last August." + +"Well, then, you would have noticed it if he had had a mole like this +on the back of his neck, wouldn't you?" He turned his back and stooped +and showed the mole. His collar hid it at ordinary times. I had seen it +often when we were bathing together. + +"Has George a mole like that?" he asked. + +"No," I said. "Oh, no." + +"You would have noticed it if he had?" + +"Yes," I said. "Oh, yes." + +"I'm glad of that," said George. "It would be a nuisance not to be able +to prove one's own identity." + +That seemed to satisfy them all. They couldn't get away from it. It +seemed to me that from now on the thing was a walk-over. And I think +George felt the same, for, when old Marshall asked him if he had had +breakfast, he said he had not, went below, and pitched in as if he +hadn't a care in the world. + +Everything went right till lunch-time. George sat in the shade on the +foredeck talking to Stella most of the time. When the gong went and the +rest had started to go below, he drew me back. He was beaming. + +"It's all right," he said. "What did I tell you?" + +"What did you tell me?" + +"Why, about Stella. Didn't I say that Alfred would fix things for +George? I told her she looked worried, and got her to tell me what the +trouble was. And then----" + +"You must have shown a flash of speed if you got her to confide in you +after knowing you for about two hours." + +"Perhaps I did," said George modestly, "I had no notion, till I became +him, what a persuasive sort of chap my brother Alfred was. Anyway, she +told me all about it, and I started in to show her that George was a +pretty good sort of fellow on the whole, who oughtn't to be turned down +for what was evidently merely temporary insanity. She saw my point." + +"And it's all right?" + +"Absolutely, if only we can produce George. How much longer does that +infernal sleuth intend to stay here? He seems to have taken root." + +"I fancy he thinks that you're bound to come back sooner or later, and +is waiting for you." + +"He's an absolute nuisance," said George. + +We were moving towards the companion way, to go below for lunch, when a +boat hailed us. We went to the side and looked over. + +"It's my uncle," said George. + +A stout man came up the gangway. + +"Halloa, George!" he said. "Get my letter?" + +"I think you are mistaking me for my brother," said George. "My name is +Alfred Lattaker." + +"What's that?" + +"I am George's brother Alfred. Are you my Uncle Augustus?" + +The stout man stared at him. + +"You're very like George," he said. + +"So everyone tells me." + +"And you're really Alfred?" + +"I am." + +"I'd like to talk business with you for a moment." + +He cocked his eye at me. I sidled off and went below. + +At the foot of the companion-steps I met Voules. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Voules. "If it would be convenient I +should be glad to have the afternoon off." + +I'm bound to say I rather liked his manner. Absolutely normal. Not a +trace of the fellow-conspirator about it. I gave him the afternoon off. + +I had lunch--George didn't show up--and as I was going out I was +waylaid by the girl Pilbeam. She had been crying. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but did Mr. Voules ask you for the afternoon?" + +I didn't see what business if was of hers, but she seemed all worked up +about it, so I told her. + +"Yes, I have given him the afternoon off." + +She broke down--absolutely collapsed. Devilish unpleasant it was. I'm +hopeless in a situation like this. After I'd said, "There, there!" +which didn't seem to help much, I hadn't any remarks to make. + +"He s-said he was going to the tables to gamble away all his savings +and then shoot himself, because he had nothing left to live for." + +I suddenly remembered the scrap in the small hours outside my +state-room door. I hate mysteries. I meant to get to the bottom of +this. I couldn't have a really first-class valet like Voules going +about the place shooting himself up. Evidently the girl Pilbeam was +at the bottom of the thing. I questioned her. She sobbed. + +I questioned her more. I was firm. And eventually she yielded up the +facts. Voules had seen George kiss her the night before; that was the +trouble. + +Things began to piece themselves together. I went up to interview George. +There was going to be another job for persuasive Alfred. Voules's mind +had got to be eased as Stella's had been. I couldn't afford to lose a +fellow with his genius for preserving a trouser-crease. + +I found George on the foredeck. What is it Shakespeare or somebody says +about some fellow's face being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of +care? George's was like that. He looked green. + +"Finished with your uncle?" I said. + +He grinned a ghostly grin. + +"There isn't any uncle," he said. "There isn't any Alfred. And there +isn't any money." + +"Explain yourself, old top," I said. + +"It won't take long. The old crook has spent every penny of the +trust money. He's been at it for years, ever since I was a kid. When +the time came to cough up, and I was due to see that he did it, he +went to the tables in the hope of a run of luck, and lost the last +remnant of the stuff. He had to find a way of holding me for a while +and postponing the squaring of accounts while he got away, and he +invented this twin-brother business. He knew I should find out sooner +or later, but meanwhile he would be able to get off to South America, +which he has done. He's on his way now." + +"You let him go?" + +"What could I do? I can't afford to make a fuss with that man Sturgis +around. I can't prove there's no Alfred when my only chance of avoiding +prison is to be Alfred." + +"Well, you've made things right for yourself with Stella Vanderley, +anyway," I said, to cheer him up. + +"What's the good of that now? I've hardly any money and no prospects. +How can I marry her?" + +I pondered. + +"It looks to me, old top," I said at last, "as if things were in a bit +of a mess." + +"You've guessed it," said poor old George. + +I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what +a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you +see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, +and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. You +can't tell when you may be going to get it. It's all dashed puzzling. +Here was poor old George, as well-meaning a fellow as ever stepped, +getting swatted all over the ring by the hand of Fate. Why? That's what +I asked myself. Just Life, don't you know. That's all there was about +it. + +It was close on six o'clock when our third visitor of the day arrived. +We were sitting on the afterdeck in the cool of the evening--old +Marshall, Denman Sturgis, Mrs. Vanderley, Stella, George, and I--when +he came up. We had been talking of George, and old Marshall was +suggesting the advisability of sending out search-parties. He was +worried. So was Stella Vanderley. So, for that matter, were George and +I, only not for the same reason. + +We were just arguing the thing out when the visitor appeared. He was a +well-built, stiff sort of fellow. He spoke with a German accent. + +"Mr. Marshall?" he said. "I am Count Fritz von Coeslin, equerry to His +Serene Highness"--he clicked his heels together and saluted--"the +Prince of Saxburg-Leignitz." + +Mrs. Vanderley jumped up. + +"Why, Count," she said, "what ages since we met in Vienna! You +remember?" + +"Could I ever forget? And the charming Miss Stella, she is well, I +suppose not?" + +"Stella, you remember Count Fritz?" + +Stella shook hands with him. + +"And how is the poor, dear Prince?" asked Mrs. Vanderley. "What a +terrible thing to have happened!" + +"I rejoice to say that my high-born master is better. He has regained +consciousness and is sitting up and taking nourishment." + +"That's good," said old Marshall. + +"In a spoon only," sighed the Count. "Mr. Marshall, with your +permission I should like a word with Mr. Sturgis." + +"Mr. Who?" + +The gimlet-eyed sportsman came forward. + +"I am Denman Sturgis, at your service." + +"The deuce you are! What are you doing here?" + +"Mr. Sturgis," explained the Count, "graciously volunteered his +services----" + +"I know. But what's he doing here?" + +"I am waiting for Mr. George Lattaker, Mr. Marshall." + +"Eh?" + +"You have not found him?" asked the Count anxiously. + +"Not yet, Count; but I hope to do so shortly. I know what he looks like +now. This gentleman is his twin-brother. They are doubles." + +"You are sure this gentleman is not Mr. George Lattaker?" + +George put his foot down firmly on the suggestion. + +"Don't go mixing me up with my brother," he said. "I am Alfred. You can +tell me by my mole." + +He exhibited the mole. He was taking no risks. + +The Count clicked his tongue regretfully. + +"I am sorry," he said. + +George didn't offer to console him, + +"Don't worry," said Sturgis. "He won't escape me. I shall find him." + +"Do, Mr. Sturgis, do. And quickly. Find swiftly that noble young man." + +"What?" shouted George. + +"That noble young man, George Lattaker, who, at the risk of his life, +saved my high-born master from the assassin." + +George sat down suddenly. + +"I don't understand," he said feebly. + +"We were wrong, Mr. Sturgis," went on the Count. "We leaped to the +conclusion--was it not so?--that the owner of the hat you found was +also the assailant of my high-born master. We were wrong. I have heard +the story from His Serene Highness's own lips. He was passing down a +dark street when a ruffian in a mask sprang out upon him. Doubtless he +had been followed from the Casino, where he had been winning heavily. +My high-born master was taken by surprise. He was felled. But before he +lost consciousness he perceived a young man in evening dress, wearing +the hat you found, running swiftly towards him. The hero engaged the +assassin in combat, and my high-born master remembers no more. His +Serene Highness asks repeatedly, 'Where is my brave preserver?' His +gratitude is princely. He seeks for this young man to reward him. Ah, +you should be proud of your brother, sir!" + +"Thanks," said George limply. + +"And you, Mr. Sturgis, you must redouble your efforts. You must search +the land; you must scour the sea to find George Lattaker." + +"He needn't take all that trouble," said a voice from the gangway. + +It was Voules. His face was flushed, his hat was on the back of his +head, and he was smoking a fat cigar. + +"I'll tell you where to find George Lattaker!" he shouted. + +He glared at George, who was staring at him. + +"Yes, look at me," he yelled. "Look at me. You won't be the first this +afternoon who's stared at the mysterious stranger who won for two hours +without a break. I'll be even with you now, Mr. Blooming Lattaker. I'll +learn you to break a poor man's heart. Mr. Marshall and gents, this +morning I was on deck, and I over'eard 'im plotting to put up a game on +you. They'd spotted that gent there as a detective, and they arranged +that blooming Lattaker was to pass himself off as his own twin-brother. +And if you wanted proof, blooming Pepper tells him to show them his +mole and he'd swear George hadn't one. Those were his very words. That +man there is George Lattaker, Hesquire, and let him deny it if he can." + +George got up. + +"I haven't the least desire to deny it, Voules." + +"Mr. Voules, if _you_ please." + +"It's true," said George, turning to the Count. "The fact is, I had +rather a foggy recollection of what happened last night. I only +remembered knocking some one down, and, like you, I jumped to the +conclusion that I must have assaulted His Serene Highness." + +"Then you are really George Lattaker?" asked the Count. + +"I am." + +"'Ere, what does all this mean?" demanded Voules. + +"Merely that I saved the life of His Serene Highness the Prince of +Saxburg-Leignitz, Mr. Voules." + +"It's a swindle!" began Voules, when there was a sudden rush and the +girl Pilbeam cannoned into the crowd, sending me into old Marshall's +chair, and flung herself into the arms of Voules. + +"Oh, Harold!" she cried. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd shot +yourself." + +He sort of braced himself together to fling her off, and then he seemed +to think better of it and fell into the clinch. + +It was all dashed romantic, don't you know, but there _are_ limits. + +"Voules, you're sacked," I said. + +"Who cares?" he said. "Think I was going to stop on now I'm a gentleman +of property? Come along, Emma, my dear. Give a month's notice and get +your 'at, and I'll take you to dinner at Ciro's." + +"And you, Mr. Lattaker," said the Count, "may I conduct you to the +presence of my high-born master? He wishes to show his gratitude to his +preserver." + +"You may," said George. "May I have my hat, Mr. Sturgis?" + +There's just one bit more. After dinner that night I came up for a +smoke, and, strolling on to the foredeck, almost bumped into George and +Stella. They seemed to be having an argument. + +"I'm not sure," she was saying, "that I believe that a man can be so +happy that he wants to kiss the nearest thing in sight, as you put it." + +"Don't you?" said George. "Well, as it happens, I'm feeling just that +way now." + +I coughed and he turned round. + +"Halloa, Reggie!" he said. + +"Halloa, George!" I said. "Lovely night." + +"Beautiful," said Stella. + +"The moon," I said. + +"Ripping," said George. + +"Lovely," said Stella. + +"And look at the reflection of the stars on the----" + +George caught my eye. "Pop off," he said. + +I popped. + + + + +DOING CLARENCE A BIT OF GOOD + + +Have you ever thought about--and, when I say thought about, I mean +really carefully considered the question of--the coolness, the cheek, +or, if you prefer it, the gall with which Woman, as a sex, fairly +bursts? _I_ have, by Jove! But then I've had it thrust on my +notice, by George, in a way I should imagine has happened to pretty +few fellows. And the limit was reached by that business of the +Yeardsley "Venus." + +To make you understand the full what-d'you-call-it of the situation, I +shall have to explain just how matters stood between Mrs. Yeardsley and +myself. + +When I first knew her she was Elizabeth Shoolbred. Old Worcestershire +family; pots of money; pretty as a picture. Her brother Bill was at +Oxford with me. + +I loved Elizabeth Shoolbred. I loved her, don't you know. And there was +a time, for about a week, when we were engaged to be married. But just +as I was beginning to take a serious view of life and study furniture +catalogues and feel pretty solemn when the restaurant orchestra played +"The Wedding Glide," I'm hanged if she didn't break it off, and a month +later she was married to a fellow of the name of Yeardsley--Clarence +Yeardsley, an artist. + +What with golf, and billiards, and a bit of racing, and fellows at the +club rallying round and kind of taking me out of myself, as it were, I +got over it, and came to look on the affair as a closed page in the +book of my life, if you know what I mean. It didn't seem likely to me +that we should meet again, as she and Clarence had settled down in the +country somewhere and never came to London, and I'm bound to own that, +by the time I got her letter, the wound had pretty well healed, and I +was to a certain extent sitting up and taking nourishment. In fact, to +be absolutely honest, I was jolly thankful the thing had ended as it +had done. + +This letter I'm telling you about arrived one morning out of a blue +sky, as it were. It ran like this: + + "MY DEAR OLD REGGIE,--What ages it seems since I saw anything of + you. How are you? We have settled down here in the most perfect old + house, with a lovely garden, in the middle of delightful country. + Couldn't you run down here for a few days? Clarence and I would be + so glad to see you. Bill is here, and is most anxious to meet you + again. He was speaking of you only this morning. _Do_ come. + Wire your train, and I will send the car to meet you. + --Yours most sincerely, + + ELIZABETH YEARDSLEY. + + "P.S.--We can give you new milk and fresh eggs. Think of that! + + "P.P.S.--Bill says our billiard-table is one of the best he has + ever played on. + + "P.P.S.S.--We are only half a mile from a golf course. Bill says + it is better than St. Andrews. + + "P.P.S.S.S.--You _must_ come!" + +Well, a fellow comes down to breakfast one morning, with a bit of a +head on, and finds a letter like that from a girl who might quite +easily have blighted his life! It rattled me rather, I must confess. + +However, that bit about the golf settled me. I knew Bill knew what he +was talking about, and, if he said the course was so topping, it must +be something special. So I went. + +Old Bill met me at the station with the car. I hadn't come across him +for some months, and I was glad to see him again. And he apparently was +glad to see me. + +"Thank goodness you've come," he said, as we drove off. "I was just +about at my last grip." + +"What's the trouble, old scout?" I asked. + +"If I had the artistic what's-its-name," he went on, "if the mere +mention of pictures didn't give me the pip, I dare say it wouldn't be +so bad. As it is, it's rotten!" + +"Pictures?" + +"Pictures. Nothing else is mentioned in this household. Clarence is an +artist. So is his father. And you know yourself what Elizabeth is like +when one gives her her head?" + +I remembered then--it hadn't come back to me before--that most of my +time with Elizabeth had been spent in picture-galleries. During the +period when I had let her do just what she wanted to do with me, I had +had to follow her like a dog through gallery after gallery, though +pictures are poison to me, just as they are to old Bill. Somehow it had +never struck me that she would still be going on in this way after +marrying an artist. I should have thought that by this time the mere +sight of a picture would have fed her up. Not so, however, according to +old Bill. + +"They talk pictures at every meal," he said. "I tell you, it makes a +chap feel out of it. How long are you down for?" + +"A few days." + +"Take my tip, and let me send you a wire from London. I go there +to-morrow. I promised to play against the Scottish. The idea was +that I was to come back after the match. But you couldn't get me +back with a lasso." + +I tried to point out the silver lining. + +"But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links +near here." + +He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank. + +"You don't mean honestly she said that?" + +"She said you said it was better than St. Andrews." + +"So I did. Was that all she said I said?" + +"Well, wasn't it enough?" + +"She didn't happen to mention that I added the words, 'I don't think'?" + +"No, she forgot to tell me that." + +"It's the worst course in Great Britain." + +I felt rather stunned, don't you know. Whether it's a bad habit to have +got into or not, I can't say, but I simply can't do without my daily +allowance of golf when I'm not in London. + +I took another whirl at the silver lining. + +"We'll have to take it out in billiards," I said. "I'm glad the table's +good." + +"It depends what you call good. It's half-size, and there's a seven-inch +cut just out of baulk where Clarence's cue slipped. Elizabeth has mended +it with pink silk. Very smart and dressy it looks, but it doesn't improve +the thing as a billiard-table." + +"But she said you said----" + +"Must have been pulling your leg." + +We turned in at the drive gates of a good-sized house standing well +back from the road. It looked black and sinister in the dusk, and I +couldn't help feeling, you know, like one of those Johnnies you read +about in stories who are lured to lonely houses for rummy purposes and +hear a shriek just as they get there. Elizabeth knew me well enough to +know that a specially good golf course was a safe draw to me. And she +had deliberately played on her knowledge. What was the game? That was +what I wanted to know. And then a sudden thought struck me which brought +me out in a cold perspiration. She had some girl down here and was going +to have a stab at marrying me off. I've often heard that young married +women are all over that sort of thing. Certainly she had said there was +nobody at the house but Clarence and herself and Bill and Clarence's +father, but a woman who could take the name of St. Andrews in vain as +she had done wouldn't be likely to stick at a trifle. + +"Bill, old scout," I said, "there aren't any frightful girls or any rot +of that sort stopping here, are there?" + +"Wish there were," he said. "No such luck." + +As we pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a woman's figure +appeared. + +"Have you got him, Bill?" she said, which in my present frame of mind +struck me as a jolly creepy way of putting it. The sort of thing Lady +Macbeth might have said to Macbeth, don't you know. + +"Do you mean me?" I said. + +She came down into the light. It was Elizabeth, looking just the same +as in the old days. + +"Is that you, Reggie? I'm so glad you were able to come. I was afraid +you might have forgotten all about it. You know what you are. Come +along in and have some tea." + + * * * * * + +Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and +then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt +when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you +hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." +Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have +preferred _this_ to me!" That's what I thought, when I set eyes on +Clarence. + +He was a little thin, nervous-looking chappie of about thirty-five. His +hair was getting grey at the temples and straggly on top. He wore +pince-nez, and he had a drooping moustache. I'm no Bombardier Wells +myself, but in front of Clarence I felt quite a nut. And Elizabeth, +mind you, is one of those tall, splendid girls who look like princesses. +Honestly, I believe women do it out of pure cussedness. + +"How do you do, Mr. Pepper? Hark! Can you hear a mewing cat?" said +Clarence. All in one breath, don't you know. + +"Eh?" I said. + +"A mewing cat. I feel sure I hear a mewing cat. Listen!" + +While we were listening the door opened, and a white-haired old +gentleman came in. He was built on the same lines as Clarence, but was +an earlier model. I took him correctly, to be Mr. Yeardsley, senior. +Elizabeth introduced us. + +"Father," said Clarence, "did you meet a mewing cat outside? I feel +positive I heard a cat mewing." + +"No," said the father, shaking his head; "no mewing cat." + +"I can't bear mewing cats," said Clarence. "A mewing cat gets on my +nerves!" + +"A mewing cat is so trying," said Elizabeth. + +"_I_ dislike mewing cats," said old Mr. Yeardsley. + +That was all about mewing cats for the moment. They seemed to think +they had covered the ground satisfactorily, and they went back to +pictures. + +We talked pictures steadily till it was time to dress for dinner. At +least, they did. I just sort of sat around. Presently the subject of +picture-robberies came up. Somebody mentioned the "Monna Lisa," and +then I happened to remember seeing something in the evening paper, as I +was coming down in the train, about some fellow somewhere having had a +valuable painting pinched by burglars the night before. It was the +first time I had had a chance of breaking into the conversation with +any effect, and I meant to make the most of it. The paper was in the +pocket of my overcoat in the hall. I went and fetched it. + +"Here it is," I said. "A Romney belonging to Sir Bellamy Palmer----" + +They all shouted "What!" exactly at the same time, like a chorus. +Elizabeth grabbed the paper. + +"Let me look! Yes. 'Late last night burglars entered the residence of +Sir Bellamy Palmer, Dryden Park, Midford, Hants----'" + +"Why, that's near here," I said. "I passed through Midford----" + +"Dryden Park is only two miles from this house," said Elizabeth. I +noticed her eyes were sparkling. + +"Only two miles!" she said. "It might have been us! It might have been +the 'Venus'!" + +Old Mr. Yeardsley bounded in his chair. + +"The 'Venus'!" he cried. + +They all seemed wonderfully excited. My little contribution to the +evening's chat had made quite a hit. + +Why I didn't notice it before I don't know, but it was not till Elizabeth +showed it to me after dinner that I had my first look at the Yeardsley +"Venus." When she led me up to it, and switched on the light, it seemed +impossible that I could have sat right through dinner without noticing +it. But then, at meals, my attention is pretty well riveted on the +foodstuffs. Anyway, it was not till Elizabeth showed it to me that I +was aware of its existence. + +She and I were alone in the drawing-room after dinner. Old Yeardsley +was writing letters in the morning-room, while Bill and Clarence were +rollicking on the half-size billiard table with the pink silk tapestry +effects. All, in fact, was joy, jollity, and song, so to speak, when +Elizabeth, who had been sitting wrapped in thought for a bit, bent +towards me and said, "Reggie." + +And the moment she said it I knew something was going to happen. You +know that pre-what-d'you-call-it you get sometimes? Well, I got it +then. + +"What-o?" I said nervously. + +"Reggie," she said, "I want to ask a great favour of you." + +"Yes?" + +She stooped down and put a log on the fire, and went on, with her back +to me: + +"Do you remember, Reggie, once saying you would do anything in the +world for me?" + +There! That's what I meant when I said that about the cheek of Woman as +a sex. What I mean is, after what had happened, you'd have thought she +would have preferred to let the dead past bury its dead, and all that +sort of thing, what? + +Mind you, I _had_ said I would do anything in the world for her. +I admit that. But it was a distinctly pre-Clarence remark. He hadn't +appeared on the scene then, and it stands to reason that a fellow who +may have been a perfect knight-errant to a girl when he was engaged to +her, doesn't feel nearly so keen on spreading himself in that direction +when she has given him the miss-in-baulk, and gone and married a man +who reason and instinct both tell him is a decided blighter. + +I couldn't think of anything to say but "Oh, yes." + +"There's something you can do for me now, which will make me +everlastingly grateful." + +"Yes," I said. + +"Do you know, Reggie," she said suddenly, "that only a few months ago +Clarence was very fond of cats?" + +"Eh! Well, he still seems--er--_interested_ in them, what?" + +"Now they get on his nerves. Everything gets on his nerves." + +"Some fellows swear by that stuff you see advertised all over the----" + +"No, that wouldn't help him. He doesn't need to take anything. He wants +to get rid of something." + +"I don't quite follow. Get rid of something?" + +"The 'Venus,'" said Elizabeth. + +She looked up and caught my bulging eye. + +"You saw the 'Venus,'" she said. + +"Not that I remember." + +"Well, come into the dining-room." + +We went into the dining-room, and she switched on the lights. + +"There," she said. + +On the wall close to the door--that may have been why I hadn't noticed +it before; I had sat with my back to it--was a large oil-painting. It +was what you'd call a classical picture, I suppose. What I mean is--well, +you know what I mean. All I can say is that it's funny I _hadn't_ +noticed it. + +"Is that the 'Venus'?" I said. + +She nodded. + +"How would you like to have to look at that every time you sat down to +a meal?" + +"Well, I don't know. I don't think it would affect me much. I'd worry +through all right." + +She jerked her head impatiently. + +"But you're not an artist," she said. "Clarence is." + +And then I began to see daylight. What exactly was the trouble I didn't +understand, but it was evidently something to do with the good old +Artistic Temperament, and I could believe anything about that. It +explains everything. It's like the Unwritten Law, don't you know, +which you plead in America if you've done anything they want to send +you to chokey for and you don't want to go. What I mean is, if you're +absolutely off your rocker, but don't find it convenient to be scooped +into the luny-bin, you simply explain that, when you said you were a +teapot, it was just your Artistic Temperament, and they apologize and +go away. So I stood by to hear just how the A.T. had affected Clarence, +the Cat's Friend, ready for anything. + +And, believe me, it had hit Clarence badly. + +It was this way. It seemed that old Yeardsley was an amateur artist and +that this "Venus" was his masterpiece. He said so, and he ought to have +known. Well, when Clarence married, he had given it to him, as a wedding +present, and had hung it where it stood with his own hands. All right so +far, what? But mark the sequel. Temperamental Clarence, being a +professional artist and consequently some streets ahead of the dad at +the game, saw flaws in the "Venus." He couldn't stand it at any price. +He didn't like the drawing. He didn't like the expression of the face. +He didn't like the colouring. In fact, it made him feel quite ill to +look at it. Yet, being devoted to his father and wanting to do anything +rather than give him pain, he had not been able to bring himself to +store the thing in the cellar, and the strain of confronting the +picture three times a day had begun to tell on him to such an extent +that Elizabeth felt something had to be done. + +"Now you see," she said. + +"In a way," I said. "But don't you think it's making rather heavy +weather over a trifle?" + +"Oh, can't you understand? Look!" Her voice dropped as if she was in +church, and she switched on another light. It shone on the picture next +to old Yeardsley's. "There!" she said. "Clarence painted that!" + +She looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to swoon, +or yell, or something. I took a steady look at Clarence's effort. It +was another Classical picture. It seemed to me very much like the other +one. + +Some sort of art criticism was evidently expected of me, so I made a +dash at it. + +"Er--'Venus'?" I said. + +Mark you, Sherlock Holmes would have made the same mistake. On the +evidence, I mean. + +"No. 'Jocund Spring,'" she snapped. She switched off the light. "I see +you don't understand even now. You never had any taste about pictures. +When we used to go to the galleries together, you would far rather have +been at your club." + +This was so absolutely true, that I had no remark to make. She came up +to me, and put her hand on my arm. + +"I'm sorry, Reggie. I didn't mean to be cross. Only I do want to make you +understand that Clarence is _suffering_. Suppose--suppose--well, let +us take the case of a great musician. Suppose a great musician had to sit +and listen to a cheap vulgar tune--the same tune--day after day, day after +day, wouldn't you expect his nerves to break! Well, it's just like that +with Clarence. Now you see?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"But what? Surely I've put it plainly enough?" + +"Yes. But what I mean is, where do I come in? What do you want me to +do?" + +"I want you to steal the 'Venus.'" + +I looked at her. + +"You want me to----?" + +"Steal it. Reggie!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Don't you +see? It's Providence. When I asked you to come here, I had just got the +idea. I knew I could rely on you. And then by a miracle this robbery of +the Romney takes place at a house not two miles away. It removes the +last chance of the poor old man suspecting anything and having his +feelings hurt. Why, it's the most wonderful compliment to him. Think! +One night thieves steal a splendid Romney; the next the same gang take +his 'Venus.' It will be the proudest moment of his life. Do it to-night, +Reggie. I'll give you a sharp knife. You simply cut the canvas out of +the frame, and it's done." + +"But one moment," I said. "I'd be delighted to be of any use to you, +but in a purely family affair like this, wouldn't it be better--in +fact, how about tackling old Bill on the subject?" + +"I have asked Bill already. Yesterday. He refused." + +"But if I'm caught?" + +"You can't be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of +the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room." + +It sounded simple enough. + +"And as to the picture itself--when I've got it?" + +"Burn it. I'll see that you have a good fire in your room." + +"But----" + +She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes. + +"Reggie," she said; nothing more. Just "Reggie." + +She looked at me. + +"Well, after all, if you see what I mean--The days that are no more, +don't you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow +me?" + +"All right," I said. "I'll do it." + +I don't know if you happen to be one of those Johnnies who are steeped +in crime, and so forth, and think nothing of pinching diamond necklaces. +If you're not, you'll understand that I felt a lot less keen on the job +I'd taken on when I sat in my room, waiting to get busy, than I had done +when I promised to tackle it in the dining-room. On paper it all seemed +easy enough, but I couldn't help feeling there was a catch somewhere, +and I've never known time pass slower. The kick-off was scheduled for +one o'clock in the morning, when the household might be expected to be +pretty sound asleep, but at a quarter to I couldn't stand it any longer. +I lit the lantern I had taken from Bill's bicycle, took a grip of my +knife, and slunk downstairs. + +The first thing I did on getting to the dining-room was to open the +window. I had half a mind to smash it, so as to give an extra bit of +local colour to the affair, but decided not to on account of the noise. +I had put my lantern on the table, and was just reaching out for it, +when something happened. What it was for the moment I couldn't have +said. It might have been an explosion of some sort or an earthquake. +Some solid object caught me a frightful whack on the chin. Sparks and +things occurred inside my head and the next thing I remember is feeling +something wet and cold splash into my face, and hearing a voice that +sounded like old Bill's say, "Feeling better now?" + +I sat up. The lights were on, and I was on the floor, with old Bill +kneeling beside me with a soda siphon. + +"What happened?" I said. + +"I'm awfully sorry, old man," he said. "I hadn't a notion it was you. I +came in here, and saw a lantern on the table, and the window open and a +chap with a knife in his hand, so I didn't stop to make inquiries. I +just let go at his jaw for all I was worth. What on earth do you think +you're doing? Were you walking in your sleep?" + +"It was Elizabeth," I said. "Why, you know all about it. She said she +had told you." + +"You don't mean----" + +"The picture. You refused to take it on, so she asked me." + +"Reggie, old man," he said. "I'll never believe what they say about +repentance again. It's a fool's trick and upsets everything. If I +hadn't repented, and thought it was rather rough on Elizabeth not to +do a little thing like that for her, and come down here to do it after +all, you wouldn't have stopped that sleep-producer with your chin. I'm +sorry." + +"Me, too," I said, giving my head another shake to make certain it was +still on. + +"Are you feeling better now?" + +"Better than I was. But that's not saying much." + +"Would you like some more soda-water? No? Well, how about getting this +job finished and going to bed? And let's be quick about it too. You made +a noise like a ton of bricks when you went down just now, and it's on +the cards some of the servants may have heard. Toss you who carves." + +"Heads." + +"Tails it is," he said, uncovering the coin. "Up you get. I'll hold the +light. Don't spike yourself on that sword of yours." + +It was as easy a job as Elizabeth had said. Just four quick cuts, and +the thing came out of its frame like an oyster. I rolled it up. Old +Bill had put the lantern on the floor and was at the sideboard, +collecting whisky, soda, and glasses. + +"We've got a long evening before us," he said. "You can't burn a picture +of that size in one chunk. You'd set the chimney on fire. Let's do the +thing comfortably. Clarence can't grudge us the stuff. We've done him +a bit of good this trip. To-morrow'll be the maddest, merriest day of +Clarence's glad New Year. On we go." + +We went up to my room, and sat smoking and yarning away and sipping our +drinks, and every now and then cutting a slice off the picture and +shoving it in the fire till it was all gone. And what with the cosiness +of it and the cheerful blaze, and the comfortable feeling of doing good +by stealth, I don't know when I've had a jollier time since the days +when we used to brew in my study at school. + +We had just put the last slice on when Bill sat up suddenly, and +gripped my arm. + +"I heard something," he said. + +I listened, and, by Jove, I heard something, too. My room was just over +the dining-room, and the sound came up to us quite distinctly. Stealthy +footsteps, by George! And then a chair falling over. + +"There's somebody in the dining-room," I whispered. + +There's a certain type of chap who takes a pleasure in positively +chivvying trouble. Old Bill's like that. If I had been alone, it would +have taken me about three seconds to persuade myself that I hadn't +really heard anything after all. I'm a peaceful sort of cove, and +believe in living and letting live, and so forth. To old Bill, however, +a visit from burglars was pure jam. He was out of his chair in one +jump. + +"Come on," he said. "Bring the poker." + +I brought the tongs as well. I felt like it. Old Bill collared the +knife. We crept downstairs. + +"We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. + +"Supposing they shoot, old scout?" + +"Burglars never shoot," said Bill. + +Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it. + +Old Bill took a grip of the handle, turned it quickly, and in he went. +And then we pulled up sharp, staring. + +The room was in darkness except for a feeble splash of light at the +near end. Standing on a chair in front of Clarence's "Jocund Spring," +holding a candle in one hand and reaching up with a knife in the other, +was old Mr. Yeardsley, in bedroom slippers and a grey dressing-gown. He +had made a final cut just as we rushed in. Turning at the sound, he +stopped, and he and the chair and the candle and the picture came down +in a heap together. The candle went out. + +"What on earth?" said Bill. + +I felt the same. I picked up the candle and lit it, and then a most +fearful thing happened. The old man picked himself up, and suddenly +collapsed into a chair and began to cry like a child. Of course, I +could see it was only the Artistic Temperament, but still, believe me, +it was devilish unpleasant. I looked at old Bill. Old Bill looked at +me. We shut the door quick, and after that we didn't know what to do. I +saw Bill look at the sideboard, and I knew what he was looking for. But +we had taken the siphon upstairs, and his ideas of first-aid stopped +short at squirting soda-water. We just waited, and presently old +Yeardsley switched off, sat up, and began talking with a rush. + +"Clarence, my boy, I was tempted. It was that burglary at Dryden Park. +It tempted me. It made it all so simple. I knew you would put it down +to the same gang, Clarence, my boy. I----" + +It seemed to dawn upon him at this point that Clarence was not among +those present. + +"Clarence?" he said hesitatingly. + +"He's in bed," I said. + +"In bed! Then he doesn't know? Even now--Young men, I throw myself +on your mercy. Don't be hard on me. Listen." He grabbed at Bill, who +sidestepped. "I can explain everything--everything." + +He gave a gulp. + +"You are not artists, you two young men, but I will try to make you +understand, make you realise what this picture means to me. I was two +years painting it. It is my child. I watched it grow. I loved it. It +was part of my life. Nothing would have induced me to sell it. And then +Clarence married, and in a mad moment I gave my treasure to him. You +cannot understand, you two young men, what agonies I suffered. The +thing was done. It was irrevocable. I saw how Clarence valued the +picture. I knew that I could never bring myself to ask him for it back. +And yet I was lost without it. What could I do? Till this evening I +could see no hope. Then came this story of the theft of the Romney from +a house quite close to this, and I saw my way. Clarence would never +suspect. He would put the robbery down to the same band of criminals +who stole the Romney. Once the idea had come, I could not drive it out. +I fought against it, but to no avail. At last I yielded, and crept down +here to carry out my plan. You found me." He grabbed again, at me this +time, and got me by the arm. He had a grip like a lobster. "Young man," +he said, "you would not betray me? You would not tell Clarence?" + +I was feeling most frightfully sorry for the poor old chap by this +time, don't you know, but I thought it would be kindest to give it him +straight instead of breaking it by degrees. + +"I won't say a word to Clarence, Mr. Yeardsley," I said. "I quite +understand your feelings. The Artistic Temperament, and all that sort +of thing. I mean--what? _I_ know. But I'm afraid--Well, look!" + +I went to the door and switched on the electric light, and there, +staring him in the face, were the two empty frames. He stood goggling +at them in silence. Then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt. + +"The gang! The burglars! They _have_ been here, and they have +taken Clarence's picture!" He paused. "It might have been mine! My +Venus!" he whispered It was getting most fearfully painful, you know, +but he had to know the truth. + +"I'm awfully sorry, you know," I said. "But it _was_." + +He started, poor old chap. + +"Eh? What do you mean?" + +"They _did_ take your Venus." + +"But I have it here." + +I shook my head. + +"That's Clarence's 'Jocund Spring,'" I said. + +He jumped at it and straightened it out. + +"What! What are you talking about? Do you think I don't know my own +picture--my child--my Venus. See! My own signature in the corner. Can +you read, boy? Look: 'Matthew Yeardsley.' This is _my_ picture!" + +And--well, by Jove, it _was_, don't you know! + + * * * * * + +Well, we got him off to bed, him and his infernal Venus, and we settled +down to take a steady look at the position of affairs. Bill said it was +my fault for getting hold of the wrong picture, and I said it was Bill's +fault for fetching me such a crack on the jaw that I couldn't be expected +to see what I was getting hold of, and then there was a pretty massive +silence for a bit. + +"Reggie," said Bill at last, "how exactly do you feel about facing +Clarence and Elizabeth at breakfast?" + +"Old scout," I said. "I was thinking much the same myself." + +"Reggie," said Bill, "I happen to know there's a milk-train leaving +Midford at three-fifteen. It isn't what you'd call a flier. It gets to +London at about half-past nine. Well--er--in the circumstances, how +about it?" + + + + +THE AUNT AND THE SLUGGARD + + +Now that it's all over, I may as well admit that there was a time +during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought +that Jeeves was going to let me down. The man had the appearance of +being baffled. + +Jeeves is my man, you know. Officially he pulls in his weekly wages +for pressing my clothes and all that sort of thing; but actually he's +more like what the poet Johnnie called some bird of his acquaintance who +was apt to rally round him in times of need--a guide, don't you know; +philosopher, if I remember rightly, and--I rather fancy--friend. I rely +on him at every turn. + +So naturally, when Rocky Todd told me about his aunt, I didn't +hesitate. Jeeves was in on the thing from the start. + +The affair of Rocky Todd broke loose early one morning of spring. I was +in bed, restoring the good old tissues with about nine hours of the +dreamless, when the door flew open and somebody prodded me in the lower +ribs and began to shake the bedclothes. After blinking a bit and +generally pulling myself together, I located Rocky, and my first +impression was that it was some horrid dream. + +Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from +New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once +that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. +Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a +walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He +was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of +his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He +told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and +wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch. + +He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a +month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three +hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there +was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in +which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to +young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, +American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things +once. It began: + + Be! + Be! + The past is dead. + To-morrow is not born. + Be to-day! + To-day! + Be with every nerve, + With every muscle, + With every drop of your red blood! + Be! + +It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of +scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, +with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said +they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four +in the afternoon for over a month. + +As regarded the future he was pretty solid, owing to the fact that he +had a moneyed aunt tucked away somewhere in Illinois; and, as he had +been named Rockmetteller after her, and was her only nephew, his +position was pretty sound. He told me that when he did come into the +money he meant to do no work at all, except perhaps an occasional poem +recommending the young man with life opening out before him, with all +its splendid possibilities, to light a pipe and shove his feet upon the +mantelpiece. + +And this was the man who was prodding me in the ribs in the grey dawn! + +"Read this, Bertie!" I could just see that he was waving a letter or +something equally foul in my face. "Wake up and read this!" + +I can't read before I've had my morning tea and a cigarette. I groped +for the bell. + +Jeeves came in looking as fresh as a dewy violet. It's a mystery to me +how he does it. + +"Tea, Jeeves." + +"Very good, sir." + +He flowed silently out of the room--he always gives you the impression +of being some liquid substance when he moves; and I found that Rocky +was surging round with his beastly letter again. + +"What is it?" I said. "What on earth's the matter?" + +"Read it!" + +"I can't. I haven't had my tea." + +"Well, listen then." + +"Who's it from?" + +"My aunt." + +At this point I fell asleep again. I woke to hear him saying: + +"So what on earth am I to do?" + +Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering +over its mossy bed; and I saw daylight. + +"Read it again, Rocky, old top," I said. "I want Jeeves to hear it. Mr. +Todd's aunt has written him a rather rummy letter, Jeeves, and we want +your advice." + +"Very good, sir." + +He stood in the middle of the room, registering devotion to the cause, +and Rocky started again: + + "MY DEAR ROCKMETTELLER.--I have been thinking things over for a + long while, and I have come to the conclusion that I have been + very thoughtless to wait so long before doing what I have made + up my mind to do now." + +"What do you make of that, Jeeves?" + +"It seems a little obscure at present, sir, but no doubt it becomes +cleared at a later point in the communication." + +"It becomes as clear as mud!" said Rocky. + +"Proceed, old scout," I said, champing my bread and butter. + + "You know how all my life I have longed to visit New York and see + for myself the wonderful gay life of which I have read so much. I + fear that now it will be impossible for me to fulfil my dream. I + am old and worn out. I seem to have no strength left in me." + +"Sad, Jeeves, what?" + +"Extremely, sir." + +"Sad nothing!" said Rocky. "It's sheer laziness. I went to see her last +Christmas and she was bursting with health. Her doctor told me himself +that there was nothing wrong with her whatever. But she will insist +that she's a hopeless invalid, so he has to agree with her. She's got a +fixed idea that the trip to New York would kill her; so, though it's +been her ambition all her life to come here, she stays where she is." + +"Rather like the chappie whose heart was 'in the Highlands a-chasing of +the deer,' Jeeves?" + +"The cases are in some respects parallel, sir." + +"Carry on, Rocky, dear +boy." + + "So I have decided that, if I cannot enjoy all the marvels of the + city myself, I can at least enjoy them through you. I suddenly + thought of this yesterday after reading a beautiful poem in the + Sunday paper about a young man who had longed all his life for a + certain thing and won it in the end only when he was too old to + enjoy it. It was very sad, and it touched me." + +"A thing," interpolated Rocky bitterly, "that I've not been able to do +in ten years." + + "As you know, you will have my money when I am gone; but until now + I have never been able to see my way to giving you an allowance. I + have now decided to do so--on one condition. I have written to a + firm of lawyers in New York, giving them instructions to pay you + quite a substantial sum each month. My one condition is that you + live in New York and enjoy yourself as I have always wished to do. + I want you to be my representative, to spend this money for me as + I should do myself. I want you to plunge into the gay, prismatic + life of New York. I want you to be the life and soul of brilliant + supper parties. + + "Above all, I want you--indeed, I insist on this--to write me + letters at least once a week giving me a full description of all + you are doing and all that is going on in the city, so that I may + enjoy at second-hand what my wretched health prevents my enjoying + for myself. Remember that I shall expect full details, and that no + detail is too trivial to interest.--Your affectionate Aunt, + + "ISABEL ROCKMETTELLER." + +"What about it?" said Rocky. + +"What about it?" I said. + +"Yes. What on earth am I going to do?" + +It was only then that I really got on to the extremely rummy attitude +of the chappie, in view of the fact that a quite unexpected mess of the +right stuff had suddenly descended on him from a blue sky. To my mind +it was an occasion for the beaming smile and the joyous whoop; yet here +the man was, looking and talking as if Fate had swung on his solar +plexus. It amazed me. + +"Aren't you bucked?" I said. + +"Bucked!" + +"If I were in your place I should be frightfully braced. I consider +this pretty soft for you." + +He gave a kind of yelp, stared at me for a moment, and then began to +talk of New York in a way that reminded me of Jimmy Mundy, the reformer +chappie. Jimmy had just come to New York on a hit-the-trail campaign, +and I had popped in at the Garden a couple of days before, for half an +hour or so, to hear him. He had certainly told New York some pretty +straight things about itself, having apparently taken a dislike to the +place, but, by Jove, you know, dear old Rocky made him look like a +publicity agent for the old metrop.! + +"Pretty soft!" he cried. "To have to come and live in New York! To have +to leave my little cottage and take a stuffy, smelly, over-heated hole +of an apartment in this Heaven-forsaken, festering Gehenna. To have to +mix night after night with a mob who think that life is a sort of St. +Vitus's dance, and imagine that they're having a good time because +they're making enough noise for six and drinking too much for ten. I +loathe New York, Bertie. I wouldn't come near the place if I hadn't got +to see editors occasionally. There's a blight on it. It's got moral +delirium tremens. It's the limit. The very thought of staying more than +a day in it makes me sick. And you call this thing pretty soft for me!" + +I felt rather like Lot's friends must have done when they dropped in +for a quiet chat and their genial host began to criticise the Cities of +the Plain. I had no idea old Rocky could be so eloquent. + +"It would kill me to have to live in New York," he went on. "To have to +share the air with six million people! To have to wear stiff collars +and decent clothes all the time! To----" He started. "Good Lord! I +suppose I should have to dress for dinner in the evenings. What a +ghastly notion!" + +I was shocked, absolutely shocked. + +"My dear chap!" I said reproachfully. + +"Do you dress for dinner every night, Bertie?" + +"Jeeves," I said coldly. The man was still standing like a statue by +the door. "How many suits of evening clothes have I?" + +"We have three suits full of evening dress, sir; two dinner jackets----" + +"Three." + +"For practical purposes two only, sir. If you remember we cannot wear +the third. We have also seven white waistcoats." + +"And shirts?" + +"Four dozen, sir." + +"And white ties?" + +"The first two shallow shelves in the chest of drawers are completely +filled with our white ties, sir." + +I turned to Rocky. + +"You see?" + +The chappie writhed like an electric fan. + +"I won't do it! I can't do it! I'll be hanged if I'll do it! How on +earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don't +get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put +on an old sweater?" + +I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his +finest feelings. + +"Then, what are you going to do about it?" I said. + +"That's what I want to know." + +"You might write and explain to your aunt." + +"I might--if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer's in two rapid +leaps and cut me out of her will." + +I saw his point. + +"What do you suggest, Jeeves?" I said. + +Jeeves cleared his throat respectfully. + +"The crux of the matter would appear to be, sir, that Mr. Todd is +obliged by the conditions under which the money is delivered into his +possession to write Miss Rockmetteller long and detailed letters +relating to his movements, and the only method by which this can be +accomplished, if Mr. Todd adheres to his expressed intention of +remaining in the country, is for Mr. Todd to induce some second party +to gather the actual experiences which Miss Rockmetteller wishes +reported to her, and to convey these to him in the shape of a careful +report, on which it would be possible for him, with the aid of his +imagination, to base the suggested correspondence." + +Having got which off the old diaphragm, Jeeves was silent. Rocky looked +at me in a helpless sort of way. He hasn't been brought up on Jeeves as +I have, and he isn't on to his curves. + +"Could he put it a little clearer, Bertie?" he said. "I thought at the +start it was going to make sense, but it kind of flickered. What's the +idea?" + +"My dear old man, perfectly simple. I knew we could stand on Jeeves. +All you've got to do is to get somebody to go round the town for you +and take a few notes, and then you work the notes up into letters. +That's it, isn't it, Jeeves?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +The light of hope gleamed in Rocky's eyes. He looked at Jeeves in a +startled way, dazed by the man's vast intellect. + +"But who would do it?" he said. "It would have to be a pretty smart +sort of man, a man who would notice things." + +"Jeeves!" I said. "Let Jeeves do it." + +"But would he?" + +"You would do it, wouldn't you, Jeeves?" + +For the first time in our long connection I observed Jeeves almost +smile. The corner of his mouth curved quite a quarter of an inch, and +for a moment his eye ceased to look like a meditative fish's. + +"I should be delighted to oblige, sir. As a matter of fact, I have +already visited some of New York's places of interest on my evening +out, and it would be most enjoyable to make a practice of the pursuit." + +"Fine! I know exactly what your aunt wants to hear about, Rocky. She +wants an earful of cabaret stuff. The place you ought to go to first, +Jeeves, is Reigelheimer's. It's on Forty-second Street. Anybody will +show you the way." + +Jeeves shook his head. + +"Pardon me, sir. People are no longer going to Reigelheimer's. The +place at the moment is Frolics on the Roof." + +"You see?" I said to Rocky. "Leave it to Jeeves. He knows." + +It isn't often that you find an entire group of your fellow-humans +happy in this world; but our little circle was certainly an example of +the fact that it can be done. We were all full of beans. Everything +went absolutely right from the start. + +Jeeves was happy, partly because he loves to exercise his giant brain, +and partly because he was having a corking time among the bright lights. +I saw him one night at the Midnight Revels. He was sitting at a table +on the edge of the dancing floor, doing himself remarkably well with a +fat cigar and a bottle of the best. I'd never imagined he could look so +nearly human. His face wore an expression of austere benevolence, and he +was making notes in a small book. + +As for the rest of us, I was feeling pretty good, because I was fond +of old Rocky and glad to be able to do him a good turn. Rocky was +perfectly contented, because he was still able to sit on fences in his +pyjamas and watch worms. And, as for the aunt, she seemed tickled to +death. She was getting Broadway at pretty long range, but it seemed to +be hitting her just right. I read one of her letters to Rocky, and it +was full of life. + +But then Rocky's letters, based on Jeeves's notes, were enough to buck +anybody up. It was rummy when you came to think of it. There was I, +loving the life, while the mere mention of it gave Rocky a tired +feeling; yet here is a letter I wrote to a pal of mine in London: + + "DEAR FREDDIE,--Well, here I am in New York. It's not a bad place. + I'm not having a bad time. Everything's pretty all right. The + cabarets aren't bad. Don't know when I shall be back. How's + everybody? Cheer-o!--Yours, + + "BERTIE. + + "PS.--Seen old Ted lately?" + +Not that I cared about Ted; but if I hadn't dragged him in I couldn't +have got the confounded thing on to the second page. + +Now here's old Rocky on exactly the same subject: + + "DEAREST AUNT ISABEL,--How can I ever thank you enough for giving + me the opportunity to live in this astounding city! New York seems + more wonderful every day. + + "Fifth Avenue is at its best, of course, just now. The dresses are + magnificent!" + +Wads of stuff about the dresses. I didn't know Jeeves was such an +authority. + + "I was out with some of the crowd at the Midnight Revels the other + night. We took in a show first, after a little dinner at a new + place on Forty-third Street. We were quite a gay party. Georgie + Cohan looked in about midnight and got off a good one about Willie + Collier. Fred Stone could only stay a minute, but Doug. Fairbanks + did all sorts of stunts and made us roar. Diamond Jim Brady was + there, as usual, and Laurette Taylor showed up with a party. The + show at the Revels is quite good. I am enclosing a programme. + + "Last night a few of us went round to Frolics on the Roof----" + +And so on and so forth, yards of it. I suppose it's the artistic +temperament or something. What I mean is, it's easier for a chappie +who's used to writing poems and that sort of tosh to put a bit of a +punch into a letter than it is for a chappie like me. Anyway, there's +no doubt that Rocky's correspondence was hot stuff. I called Jeeves in +and congratulated him. + +"Jeeves, you're a wonder!" + +"Thank you, sir." + +"How you notice everything at these places beats me. I couldn't tell +you a thing about them, except that I've had a good time." + +"It's just a knack, sir." + +"Well, Mr. Todd's letters ought to brace Miss Rockmetteller all right, +what?" + +"Undoubtedly, sir," agreed Jeeves. + +And, by Jove, they did! They certainly did, by George! What I mean to +say is, I was sitting in the apartment one afternoon, about a month +after the thing had started, smoking a cigarette and resting the old +bean, when the door opened and the voice of Jeeves burst the silence +like a bomb. + +It wasn't that he spoke loud. He has one of those soft, soothing voices +that slide through the atmosphere like the note of a far-off sheep. It +was what he said made me leap like a young gazelle. + +"Miss Rockmetteller!" + +And in came a large, solid female. + +The situation floored me. I'm not denying it. Hamlet must have felt +much as I did when his father's ghost bobbed up in the fairway. I'd +come to look on Rocky's aunt as such a permanency at her own home that +it didn't seem possible that she could really be here in New York. I +stared at her. Then I looked at Jeeves. He was standing there in an +attitude of dignified detachment, the chump, when, if ever he should +have been rallying round the young master, it was now. + +Rocky's aunt looked less like an invalid than any one I've ever seen, +except my Aunt Agatha. She had a good deal of Aunt Agatha about her, as +a matter of fact. She looked as if she might be deucedly dangerous if +put upon; and something seemed to tell me that she would certainly +regard herself as put upon if she ever found out the game which poor +old Rocky had been pulling on her. + +"Good afternoon," I managed to say. + +"How do you do?" she said. "Mr. Cohan?" + +"Er--no." + +"Mr. Fred Stone?" + +"Not absolutely. As a matter of fact, my name's Wooster--Bertie +Wooster." + +She seemed disappointed. The fine old name of Wooster appeared to mean +nothing in her life. + +"Isn't Rockmetteller home?" she said. "Where is he?" + +She had me with the first shot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I +couldn't tell her that Rocky was down in the country, watching worms. + +There was the faintest flutter of sound in the background. It was the +respectful cough with which Jeeves announces that he is about to speak +without having been spoken to. + +"If you remember, sir, Mr. Todd went out in the automobile with a party +in the afternoon." + +"So he did, Jeeves; so he did," I said, looking at my watch. "Did he +say when he would be back?" + +"He gave me to understand, sir, that he would be somewhat late in +returning." + +He vanished; and the aunt took the chair which I'd forgotten to offer +her. She looked at me in rather a rummy way. It was a nasty look. It +made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended +to bury later on, when he had time. My own Aunt Agatha, back in England, +has looked at me in exactly the same way many a time, and it never fails +to make my spine curl. + +"You seem very much at home here, young man. Are you a great friend of +Rockmetteller's?" + +"Oh, yes, rather!" + +She frowned as if she had expected better things of old Rocky. + +"Well, you need to be," she said, "the way you treat his flat as your +own!" + +I give you my word, this quite unforeseen slam simply robbed me of the +power of speech. I'd been looking on myself in the light of the dashing +host, and suddenly to be treated as an intruder jarred me. It wasn't, +mark you, as if she had spoken in a way to suggest that she considered +my presence in the place as an ordinary social call. She obviously +looked on me as a cross between a burglar and the plumber's man come +to fix the leak in the bathroom. It hurt her--my being there. + +At this juncture, with the conversation showing every sign of being +about to die in awful agonies, an idea came to me. Tea--the good old +stand-by. + +"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I said. + +"Tea?" + +She spoke as if she had never heard of the stuff. + +"Nothing like a cup after a journey," I said. "Bucks you up! Puts a bit +of zip into you. What I mean is, restores you, and so on, don't you +know. I'll go and tell Jeeves." + +I tottered down the passage to Jeeves's lair. The man was reading the +evening paper as if he hadn't a care in the world. + +"Jeeves," I said, "we want some tea." + +"Very good, sir." + +"I say, Jeeves, this is a bit thick, what?" + +I wanted sympathy, don't you know--sympathy and kindness. The old nerve +centres had had the deuce of a shock. + +"She's got the idea this place belongs to Mr. Todd. What on earth put +that into her head?" + +Jeeves filled the kettle with a restrained dignity. + +"No doubt because of Mr. Todd's letters, sir," he said. "It was my +suggestion, sir, if you remember, that they should be addressed from +this apartment in order that Mr. Todd should appear to possess a good +central residence in the city." + +I remembered. We had thought it a brainy scheme at the time. + +"Well, it's bally awkward, you know, Jeeves. She looks on me as an +intruder. By Jove! I suppose she thinks I'm someone who hangs about +here, touching Mr. Todd for free meals and borrowing his shirts." + +"Yes, sir." + +"It's pretty rotten, you know." + +"Most disturbing, sir." + +"And there's another thing: What are we to do about Mr. Todd? We've got +to get him up here as soon as ever we can. When you have brought the +tea you had better go out and send him a telegram, telling him to come +up by the next train." + +"I have already done so, sir. I took the liberty of writing the message +and dispatching it by the lift attendant." + +"By Jove, you think of everything, Jeeves!" + +"Thank you, sir. A little buttered toast with the tea? Just so, sir. +Thank you." + +I went back to the sitting-room. She hadn't moved an inch. She was still +bolt upright on the edge of her chair, gripping her umbrella like a +hammer-thrower. She gave me another of those looks as I came in. There +was no doubt about it; for some reason she had taken a dislike to me. I +suppose because I wasn't George M. Cohan. It was a bit hard on a chap. + +"This is a surprise, what?" I said, after about five minutes' restful +silence, trying to crank the conversation up again. + +"What is a surprise?" + +"Your coming here, don't you know, and so on." + +She raised her eyebrows and drank me in a bit more through her glasses. + +"Why is it surprising that I should visit my only nephew?" she said. + +Put like that, of course, it did seem reasonable. + +"Oh, rather," I said. "Of course! Certainly. What I mean is----" + +Jeeves projected himself into the room with the tea. I was jolly glad +to see him. There's nothing like having a bit of business arranged for +one when one isn't certain of one's lines. With the teapot to fool +about with I felt happier. + +"Tea, tea, tea--what? What?" I said. + +It wasn't what I had meant to say. My idea had been to be a good deal +more formal, and so on. Still, it covered the situation. I poured her +out a cup. She sipped it and put the cup down with a shudder. + +"Do you mean to say, young man," she said frostily, "that you expect me +to drink this stuff?" + +"Rather! Bucks you up, you know." + +"What do you mean by the expression 'Bucks you up'?" + +"Well, makes you full of beans, you know. Makes you fizz." + +"I don't understand a word you say. You're English, aren't you?" + +I admitted it. She didn't say a word. And somehow she did it in a way +that made it worse than if she had spoken for hours. Somehow it was +brought home to me that she didn't like Englishmen, and that if she had +had to meet an Englishman, I was the one she'd have chosen last. + +Conversation languished again after that. + +Then I tried again. I was becoming more convinced every moment that you +can't make a real lively _salon_ with a couple of people, +especially if one of them lets it go a word at a time. + +"Are you comfortable at your hotel?" I said. + +"At which hotel?" + +"The hotel you're staying at." + +"I am not staying at an hotel." + +"Stopping with friends--what?" + +"I am naturally stopping with my nephew." + +I didn't get it for the moment; then it hit me. + +"What! Here?" I gurgled. + +"Certainly! Where else should I go?" + +The full horror of the situation rolled over me like a wave. I couldn't +see what on earth I was to do. I couldn't explain that this wasn't +Rocky's flat without giving the poor old chap away hopelessly, because +she would then ask me where he did live, and then he would be right in +the soup. I was trying to induce the old bean to recover from the shock +and produce some results when she spoke again. + +"Will you kindly tell my nephew's man-servant to prepare my room? I +wish to lie down." + +"Your nephew's man-servant?" + +"The man you call Jeeves. If Rockmetteller has gone for an automobile +ride, there is no need for you to wait for him. He will naturally wish +to be alone with me when he returns." + +I found myself tottering out of the room. The thing was too much for +me. I crept into Jeeves's den. + +"Jeeves!" I whispered. + +"Sir?" + +"Mix me a b.-and-s., Jeeves. I feel weak." + +"Very good, sir." + +"This is getting thicker every minute, Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"She thinks you're Mr. Todd's man. She thinks the whole place is his, +and everything in it. I don't see what you're to do, except stay on and +keep it up. We can't say anything or she'll get on to the whole thing, +and I don't want to let Mr. Todd down. By the way, Jeeves, she wants +you to prepare her bed." + +He looked wounded. + +"It is hardly my place, sir----" + +"I know--I know. But do it as a personal favour to me. If you come to +that, it's hardly my place to be flung out of the flat like this and +have to go to an hotel, what?" + +"Is it your intention to go to an hotel, sir? What will you do for +clothes?" + +"Good Lord! I hadn't thought of that. Can you put a few things in a bag +when she isn't looking, and sneak them down to me at the St. Aurea?" + +"I will endeavour to do so, sir." + +"Well, I don't think there's anything more, is there? Tell Mr. Todd +where I am when he gets here." + +"Very good, sir." + +I looked round the place. The moment of parting had come. I felt sad. +The whole thing reminded me of one of those melodramas where they drive +chappies out of the old homestead into the snow. + +"Good-bye, Jeeves," I said. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +And I staggered out. + + * * * * * + +You know, I rather think I agree with those poet-and-philosopher +Johnnies who insist that a fellow ought to be devilish pleased if he +has a bit of trouble. All that stuff about being refined by suffering, +you know. Suffering does give a chap a sort of broader and more +sympathetic outlook. It helps you to understand other people's +misfortunes if you've been through the same thing yourself. + +As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white +tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole +squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to +look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural +phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, +there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own +clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the +morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I +mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful +privations the poor have to stick. + +I got dressed somehow. Jeeves hadn't forgotten a thing in his packing. +Everything was there, down to the final stud. I'm not sure this didn't +make me feel worse. It kind of deepened the pathos. It was like what +somebody or other wrote about the touch of a vanished hand. + +I had a bit of dinner somewhere and went to a show of some kind; but +nothing seemed to make any difference. I simply hadn't the heart to go +on to supper anywhere. I just sucked down a whisky-and-soda in the +hotel smoking-room and went straight up to bed. I don't know when I've +felt so rotten. Somehow I found myself moving about the room softly, as +if there had been a death in the family. If I had anybody to talk to I +should have talked in a whisper; in fact, when the telephone-bell rang +I answered in such a sad, hushed voice that the fellow at the other end +of the wire said "Halloa!" five times, thinking he hadn't got me. + +It was Rocky. The poor old scout was deeply agitated. + +"Bertie! Is that you, Bertie! Oh, gosh? I'm having a time!" + +"Where are you speaking from?" + +"The Midnight Revels. We've been here an hour, and I think we're a +fixture for the night. I've told Aunt Isabel I've gone out to call up a +friend to join us. She's glued to a chair, with this-is-the-life +written all over her, taking it in through the pores. She loves it, and +I'm nearly crazy." + +"Tell me all, old top," I said. + +"A little more of this," he said, "and I shall sneak quietly off to the +river and end it all. Do you mean to say you go through this sort of +thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it? It's simply infernal! I was +just snatching a wink of sleep behind the bill of fare just now when +about a million yelling girls swooped down, with toy balloons. There +are two orchestras here, each trying to see if it can't play louder +than the other. I'm a mental and physical wreck. When your telegram +arrived I was just lying down for a quiet pipe, with a sense of +absolute peace stealing over me. I had to get dressed and sprint two +miles to catch the train. It nearly gave me heart-failure; and on top +of that I almost got brain fever inventing lies to tell Aunt Isabel. +And then I had to cram myself into these confounded evening clothes of +yours." + +I gave a sharp wail of agony. It hadn't struck me till then that Rocky +was depending on my wardrobe to see him through. + +"You'll ruin them!" + +"I hope so," said Rocky, in the most unpleasant way. His troubles +seemed to have had the worst effect on his character. "I should like to +get back at them somehow; they've given me a bad enough time. They're +about three sizes too small, and something's apt to give at any moment. +I wish to goodness it would, and give me a chance to breathe. I haven't +breathed since half-past seven. Thank Heaven, Jeeves managed to get out +and buy me a collar that fitted, or I should be a strangled corpse by +now! It was touch and go till the stud broke. Bertie, this is pure +Hades! Aunt Isabel keeps on urging me to dance. How on earth can I +dance when I don't know a soul to dance with? And how the deuce could +I, even if I knew every girl in the place? It's taking big chances even +to move in these trousers. I had to tell her I've hurt my ankle. She +keeps asking me when Cohan and Stone are going to turn up; and it's +simply a question of time before she discovers that Stone is sitting +two tables away. Something's got to be done, Bertie! You've got to +think up some way of getting me out of this mess. It was you who got me +into it." + +"Me! What do you mean?" + +"Well, Jeeves, then. It's all the same. It was you who suggested +leaving it to Jeeves. It was those letters I wrote from his notes that +did the mischief. I made them too good! My aunt's just been telling me +about it. She says she had resigned herself to ending her life where +she was, and then my letters began to arrive, describing the joys of +New York; and they stimulated her to such an extent that she pulled +herself together and made the trip. She seems to think she's had some +miraculous kind of faith cure. I tell you I can't stand it, Bertie! +It's got to end!" + +"Can't Jeeves think of anything?" + +"No. He just hangs round saying: 'Most disturbing, sir!' A fat lot of +help that is!" + +"Well, old lad," I said, "after all, it's far worse for me than it is +for you. You've got a comfortable home and Jeeves. And you're saving a +lot of money." + +"Saving money? What do you mean--saving money?" + +"Why, the allowance your aunt was giving you. I suppose she's paying +all the expenses now, isn't she?" + +"Certainly she is; but she's stopped the allowance. She wrote the +lawyers to-night. She says that, now she's in New York, there is no +necessity for it to go on, as we shall always be together, and it's +simpler for her to look after that end of it. I tell you, Bertie, I've +examined the darned cloud with a microscope, and if it's got a silver +lining it's some little dissembler!" + +"But, Rocky, old top, it's too bally awful! You've no notion of what +I'm going through in this beastly hotel, without Jeeves. I must get +back to the flat." + +"Don't come near the flat." + +"But it's my own flat." + +"I can't help that. Aunt Isabel doesn't like you. She asked me what you +did for a living. And when I told her you didn't do anything she said +she thought as much, and that you were a typical specimen of a useless +and decaying aristocracy. So if you think you have made a hit, forget +it. Now I must be going back, or she'll be coming out here after me. +Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +Next morning Jeeves came round. It was all so home-like when he floated +noiselessly into the room that I nearly broke down. + +"Good morning, sir," he said. "I have brought a few more of your +personal belongings." + +He began to unstrap the suit-case he was carrying. + +"Did you have any trouble sneaking them away?" + +"It was not easy, sir. I had to watch my chance. Miss Rockmetteller is +a remarkably alert lady." + +"You know, Jeeves, say what you like--this is a bit thick, isn't it?" + +"The situation is certainly one that has never before come under my +notice, sir. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic +conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour +to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill." + +"It can't go on--this sort of thing--Jeeves." + +"We must hope for the best, sir." + +"Can't you think of anything to do?" + +"I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far +without success. I am placing three silk shirts--the dove-coloured, the +light blue, and the mauve--in the first long drawer, sir." + +"You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?" + +"For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the +tan socks in the upper drawer on the left." He strapped the suit-case +and put it on a chair. "A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir." + +"You understate it, Jeeves." + +He gazed meditatively out of the window. + +"In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine +who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are +much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great +city. It is a passion with her to ride in hansom cabs, sir. Whenever +the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and +spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has +broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable +her to gratify this desire." + +"I love to have these little chats with you about your female +relatives, Jeeves," I said coldly, for I felt that the man had let me +down, and I was fed up with him. "But I don't see what all this has got +to do with my trouble." + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I am leaving a small assortment of neckties on +the mantelpiece, sir, for you to select according to your preference. I +should recommend the blue with the red domino pattern, sir." + +Then he streamed imperceptibly toward the door and flowed silently out. + + * * * * * + +I've often heard that chappies, after some great shock or loss, have a +habit, after they've been on the floor for a while wondering what hit +them, of picking themselves up and piecing themselves together, and +sort of taking a whirl at beginning a new life. Time, the great healer, +and Nature, adjusting itself, and so on and so forth. There's a lot in +it. I know, because in my own case, after a day or two of what you +might call prostration, I began to recover. The frightful loss of +Jeeves made any thought of pleasure more or less a mockery, but at +least I found that I was able to have a dash at enjoying life again. +What I mean is, I was braced up to the extent of going round the cabarets +once more, so as to try to forget, if only for the moment. + +New York's a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up +just as the rest is going to bed, and it wasn't long before my tracks +began to cross old Rocky's. I saw him once at Peale's, and again at +Frolics on the roof. There wasn't anybody with him either time except +the aunt, and, though he was trying to look as if he had struck the +ideal life, it wasn't difficult for me, knowing the circumstances, to +see that beneath the mask the poor chap was suffering. My heart bled +for the fellow. At least, what there was of it that wasn't bleeding for +myself bled for him. He had the air of one who was about to crack under +the strain. + +It seemed to me that the aunt was looking slightly upset also. I took +it that she was beginning to wonder when the celebrities were going to +surge round, and what had suddenly become of all those wild, careless +spirits Rocky used to mix with in his letters. I didn't blame her. I +had only read a couple of his letters, but they certainly gave the +impression that poor old Rocky was by way of being the hub of New York +night life, and that, if by any chance he failed to show up at a +cabaret, the management said: "What's the use?" and put up the +shutters. + +The next two nights I didn't come across them, but the night after that +I was sitting by myself at the Maison Pierre when somebody tapped me on +the shoulder-blade, and I found Rocky standing beside me, with a sort +of mixed expression of wistfulness and apoplexy on his face. How the +chappie had contrived to wear my evening clothes so many times without +disaster was a mystery to me. He confided later that early in the +proceedings he had slit the waistcoat up the back and that that had +helped a bit. + +For a moment I had the idea that he had managed to get away from his +aunt for the evening; but, looking past him, I saw that she was in +again. She was at a table over by the wall, looking at me as if I were +something the management ought to be complained to about. + +"Bertie, old scout," said Rocky, in a quiet, sort of crushed voice, +"we've always been pals, haven't we? I mean, you know I'd do you a good +turn if you asked me?" + +"My dear old lad," I said. The man had moved me. + +"Then, for Heaven's sake, come over and sit at our table for the rest +of the evening." + +Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship. + +"My dear chap," I said, "you know I'd do anything in reason; but----" + +"You must come, Bertie. You've got to. Something's got to be done to +divert her mind. She's brooding about something. She's been like that +for the last two days. I think she's beginning to suspect. She can't +understand why we never seem to meet anyone I know at these joints. A +few nights ago I happened to run into two newspaper men I used to know +fairly well. That kept me going for a while. I introduced them to Aunt +Isabel as David Belasco and Jim Corbett, and it went well. But the effect +has worn off now, and she's beginning to wonder again. Something's got to +be done, or she will find out everything, and if she does I'd take a +nickel for my chance of getting a cent from her later on. So, for the +love of Mike, come across to our table and help things along." + +I went along. One has to rally round a pal in distress. Aunt Isabel was +sitting bolt upright, as usual. It certainly did seem as if she had +lost a bit of the zest with which she had started out to explore +Broadway. She looked as if she had been thinking a good deal about +rather unpleasant things. + +"You've met Bertie Wooster, Aunt Isabel?" said Rocky. + +"I have." + +There was something in her eye that seemed to say: + +"Out of a city of six million people, why did you pick on me?" + +"Take a seat, Bertie. What'll you have?" said Rocky. + +And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, +bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and +then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this +wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light +of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister. I had +gathered that at the beginning of her visit she had had to be dragged +home with ropes. + +It must have hit Rocky the same way, for he gave me a pleading look. + +"You'll come along, won't you, Bertie, and have a drink at the flat?" + +I had a feeling that this wasn't in the contract, but there wasn't +anything to be done. It seemed brutal to leave the poor chap alone with +the woman, so I went along. + +Right from the start, from the moment we stepped into the taxi, the +feeling began to grow that something was about to break loose. A +massive silence prevailed in the corner where the aunt sat, and, +though Rocky, balancing himself on the little seat in front, did his +best to supply dialogue, we weren't a chatty party. + +I had a glimpse of Jeeves as we went into the flat, sitting in his +lair, and I wished I could have called to him to rally round. Something +told me that I was about to need him. + +The stuff was on the table in the sitting-room. Rocky took up the +decanter. + +"Say when, Bertie." + +"Stop!" barked the aunt, and he dropped it. + +I caught Rocky's eye as he stooped to pick up the ruins. It was the eye +of one who sees it coming. + +"Leave it there, Rockmetteller!" said Aunt Isabel; and Rocky left it +there. + +"The time has come to speak," she said. "I cannot stand idly by and see +a young man going to perdition!" + +Poor old Rocky gave a sort of gurgle, a kind of sound rather like the +whisky had made running out of the decanter on to my carpet. + +"Eh?" he said, blinking. + +The aunt proceeded. + +"The fault," she said, "was mine. I had not then seen the light. But +now my eyes are open. I see the hideous mistake I have made. I shudder +at the thought of the wrong I did you, Rockmetteller, by urging you +into contact with this wicked city." + +I saw Rocky grope feebly for the table. His fingers touched it, and a +look of relief came into the poor chappie's face. I understood his +feelings. + +"But when I wrote you that letter, Rockmetteller, instructing you to go +to the city and live its life, I had not had the privilege of hearing +Mr. Mundy speak on the subject of New York." + +"Jimmy Mundy!" I cried. + +You know how it is sometimes when everything seems all mixed up and +you suddenly get a clue. When she mentioned Jimmy Mundy I began to +understand more or less what had happened. I'd seen it happen before. +I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off +to a meeting on his evening out and came back and denounced me in front +of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a moral leper. + +The aunt gave me a withering up and down. + +"Yes; Jimmy Mundy!" she said. "I am surprised at a man of your stamp +having heard of him. There is no music, there are no drunken, dancing +men, no shameless, flaunting women at his meetings; so for you they would +have no attraction. But for others, less dead in sin, he has his message. +He has come to save New York from itself; to force it--in his picturesque +phrase--to hit the trail. It was three days ago, Rockmetteller, that I +first heard him. It was an accident that took me to his meeting. How +often in this life a mere accident may shape our whole future! + +"You had been called away by that telephone message from Mr. Belasco; +so you could not take me to the Hippodrome, as we had arranged. I asked +your man-servant, Jeeves, to take me there. The man has very little +intelligence. He seems to have misunderstood me. I am thankful that he +did. He took me to what I subsequently learned was Madison Square +Garden, where Mr. Mundy is holding his meetings. He escorted me to a +seat and then left me. And it was not till the meeting had begun that I +discovered the mistake which had been made. My seat was in the middle +of a row. I could not leave without inconveniencing a great many +people, so I remained." + +She gulped. + +"Rockmetteller, I have never been so thankful for anything else. Mr. +Mundy was wonderful! He was like some prophet of old, scourging the +sins of the people. He leaped about in a frenzy of inspiration till I +feared he would do himself an injury. Sometimes he expressed himself in +a somewhat odd manner, but every word carried conviction. He showed me +New York in its true colours. He showed me the vanity and wickedness of +sitting in gilded haunts of vice, eating lobster when decent people +should be in bed. + +"He said that the tango and the fox-trot were devices of the devil to +drag people down into the Bottomless Pit. He said that there was more +sin in ten minutes with a negro banjo orchestra than in all the ancient +revels of Nineveh and Babylon. And when he stood on one leg and pointed +right at where I was sitting and shouted, 'This means you!' I could +have sunk through the floor. I came away a changed woman. Surely you +must have noticed the change in me, Rockmetteller? You must have seen +that I was no longer the careless, thoughtless person who had urged you +to dance in those places of wickedness?" + +Rocky was holding on to the table as if it was his only friend. + +"Y-yes," he stammered; "I--I thought something was wrong." + +"Wrong? Something was right! Everything was right! Rockmetteller, it is +not too late for you to be saved. You have only sipped of the evil cup. +You have not drained it. It will be hard at first, but you will find +that you can do it if you fight with a stout heart against the glamour +and fascination of this dreadful city. Won't you, for my sake, try, +Rockmetteller? Won't you go back to the country to-morrow and begin the +struggle? Little by little, if you use your will----" + +I can't help thinking it must have been that word "will" that roused +dear old Rocky like a trumpet call. It must have brought home to him +the realisation that a miracle had come off and saved him from being +cut out of Aunt Isabel's. At any rate, as she said it he perked up, let +go of the table, and faced her with gleaming eyes. + +"Do you want me to go back to the country, Aunt Isabel?" + +"Yes." + +"Not to live in the country?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller." + +"Stay in the country all the time, do you mean? Never come to New +York?" + +"Yes, Rockmetteller; I mean just that. It is the only way. Only there +can you be safe from temptation. Will you do it, Rockmetteller? Will +you--for my sake?" + +Rocky grabbed the table again. He seemed to draw a lot of encouragement +from that table. + +"I will!" he said. + + * * * * * + +"Jeeves," I said. It was next day, and I was back in the old flat, lying +in the old arm-chair, with my feet upon the good old table. I had just +come from seeing dear old Rocky off to his country cottage, and an hour +before he had seen his aunt off to whatever hamlet it was that she was +the curse of; so we were alone at last. "Jeeves, there's no place like +home--what?" + +"Very true, sir." + +"The jolly old roof-tree, and all that sort of thing--what?" + +"Precisely, sir." + +I lit another cigarette. + +"Jeeves." + +"Sir?" + +"Do you know, at one point in the business I really thought you were +baffled." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"When did you get the idea of taking Miss Rockmetteller to the meeting? +It was pure genius!" + +"Thank you, sir. It came to me a little suddenly, one morning when I +was thinking of my aunt, sir." + +"Your aunt? The hansom cab one?" + +"Yes, sir. I recollected that, whenever we observed one of her attacks +coming on, we used to send for the clergyman of the parish. We always +found that if he talked to her a while of higher things it diverted her +mind from hansom cabs. It occurred to me that the same treatment might +prove efficacious in the case of Miss Rockmetteller." + +I was stunned by the man's resource. + +"It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, +Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat +a lot of fish, Jeeves?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born +that way there's no use worrying." + +"Precisely, sir," said Jeeves. "If I might make the suggestion, sir, I +should not continue to wear your present tie. The green shade gives you +a slightly bilious air. I should strongly advocate the blue with the +red domino pattern instead, sir." + +"All right, Jeeves." I said humbly. "You know!" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Man Jeeves, by P. G. 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