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The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Intrusion of Jimmy, by P.G. Wodehouse

THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY

BY

P.G. WODEHOUSE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

      I. JIMMY MAKES A BET

     II. PYRAMUS AND THISBE

    III. MR. MCEACHERN

     IV. MOLLY

      V. A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

     VI. AN EXHIBITION PERFORMANCE

    VII. GETTING ACQUAINTED

   VIII. AT DREEVER

     IX. FRIENDS, NEW AND OLD

      X. JIMMY ADOPTS A LAME DOG

     XI. AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD

    XII. MAKING A START

   XIII. SPIKE'S VIEWS

    XIV. CHECK AND A COUNTER MOVE

     XV. MR. McEACHERN INTERVENES

    XVI. A MARRIAGE ARRANGED

   XVII. JIMMY REMEMBERS SOMETHING

  XVIII. THE LOCHINVAR METHOD

    XIX. ON THE LAKE

     XX. A LESSON IN PICQUET

    XXI. LOATHSOME GIFTS

   XXII. TWO OF A TRADE DISAGREE

  XXIII. FAMILY JARS

   XXIV. THE TREASURE-SEEKER

    XXV. EXPLANATIONS

   XXVI. STIRRING TIMES FOR SIR THOMAS

  XXVII. A DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

 XXVIII. SPENNIE'S HOUR OF CLEAR VISION

   XXIX. THE LAST ROUND

    XXX. CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I

JIMMY MAKES A BET

The main smoking-room of the Strollers' Club had been filling for

the last half-hour, and was now nearly full. In many ways, the

Strollers', though not the most magnificent, is the pleasantest club

in New York. Its ideals are comfort without pomp; and it is given

over after eleven o'clock at night mainly to the Stage. Everybody is

young, clean-shaven, and full of conversation: and the conversation

strikes a purely professional note.

Everybody in the room on this July night had come from the theater.

Most of those present had been acting, but a certain number had been

to the opening performance of the latest better-than-Raffles play.

There had been something of a boom that season in dramas whose

heroes appealed to the public more pleasantly across the footlights

than they might have done in real life. In the play that had opened

to-night, Arthur Mifflin, an exemplary young man off the stage, had

been warmly applauded for a series of actions which, performed

anywhere except in the theater, would certainly have debarred him

from remaining a member of the Strollers' or any other club. In

faultless evening dress, with a debonair smile on his face, he had

broken open a safe, stolen bonds and jewelry to a large amount, and

escaped without a blush of shame via the window. He had foiled a

detective through four acts, and held up a band of pursuers with a

revolver. A large audience had intimated complete approval

throughout.

"It's a hit all right," said somebody through the smoke.

"These near-'Raffles' plays always are," grumbled Willett, who

played bluff fathers in musical comedy. "A few years ago, they would

have been scared to death of putting on a show with a crook as hero.

Now, it seems to me the public doesn't want anything else. Not that

they know what they DO want," he concluded, mournfully.

"The Belle of Boulogne," in which Willett sustained the role of

Cyrus K. Higgs, a Chicago millionaire, was slowly fading away on a

diet of paper, and this possibly prejudiced him.

Raikes, the character actor, changed the subject. If Willett once

got started on the wrongs of the ill-fated "Belle," general

conversation would become impossible. Willett, denouncing the

stupidity of the public, as purely a monologue artiste.

"I saw Jimmy Pitt at the show," said Raikes. Everybody displayed

interest.

"Jimmy Pitt? When did he come back? I thought he was in Italy."

"He came on the Lusitania, I suppose. She docked this morning."

"Jimmy Pitt?" said Sutton, of the Majestic Theater. "How long has he

been away? Last I saw of him was at the opening of 'The Outsider' at

the Astor. That's a couple of months ago."

"He's been traveling in Europe, I believe," said Raikes. "Lucky

beggar to be able to. I wish I could."

Sutton knocked the ash off his cigar.

"I envy Jimmy," he said. "I don't know anyone I'd rather be. He's

got much more money than any man except a professional 'plute' has

any right to. He's as strong as an ox. I shouldn't say he'd ever had

anything worse than measles in his life. He's got no relations. And

he isn't married."

Sutton, who had been married three times, spoke with some feeling.

"He's a good chap, Jimmy," said Raikes.

"Yes," said Arthur Mifflin, "yes, Jimmy is a good chap. I've known

him for years. I was at college with him. He hasn't got my

brilliance of intellect; but he has some wonderfully fine qualities.

For one thing, I should say he had put more deadbeats on their legs

again than half the men in New York put together."

"Well," growled Willett, whom the misfortunes of the Belle had

soured, "what's there in that? It's mighty easy to do the

philanthropist act when you're next door to a millionaire."

"Yes," said Mifflin warmly, "but it's not so easy when you're

getting thirty dollars a week on a newspaper. When Jimmy was a

reporter on the News, there used to be a whole crowd of fellows just

living on him. Not borrowing an occasional dollar, mind you, but

living on him--sleeping on his sofa, and staying to breakfast. It

made me mad. I used to ask him why he stood for it. He said there

was nowhere else for them to go, and he thought he could see them

through all right--which he did, though I don't see how he managed

it on thirty a week."

"If a man's fool enough to be an easy mark--" began Willett.

"Oh, cut it out!" said Raikes. "We don't want anybody knocking Jimmy

here."

"All the same," said Sutton, "it seems to me that it was mighty

lucky that he came into that money. You can't keep open house for

ever on thirty a week. By the way, Arthur, how was that? I heard it

was his uncle."

"It wasn't his uncle," said Mifflin. "It was by way of being a

romance of sorts, I believe. Fellow who had been in love with

Jimmy's mother years ago went West, made a pile, and left it to Mrs.

Pitt or her children. She had been dead some time when that

happened. Jimmy, of course, hadn't a notion of what was coming to

him, when suddenly he got a solicitor's letter asking him to call.

He rolled round, and found that there was about five hundred

thousand dollars just waiting for him to spend it."

Jimmy Pitt had now definitely ousted "Love, the Cracksman" as a

topic of conversation. Everybody present knew him. Most of them had

known him in his newspaper days; and, though every man there would

have perished rather than admit it, they were grateful to Jimmy for

being exactly the same to them now that he could sign a check for

half a million as he had been on the old thirty-a-week basis.

Inherited wealth, of course, does not make a young man nobler or

more admirable; but the young man does not always know this.

"Jimmy's had a queer life," said Mifflin. "He's been pretty much

everything in his time. Did you know he was on the stage before he

took up newspaper-work? Only on the road, I believe. He got tired of

it, and cut it out. That's always been his trouble. He wouldn't

settle down to anything. He studied law at Yale, but he never kept

it up. After he left the stage, he moved all over the States,

without a cent, picking up any odd job he could get. He was a waiter

once for a couple of days, but they fired him for breaking plates.

Then, he got a job in a jeweler's shop. I believe he's a bit of an