Thank You, Jeeves

And I was right. Left to himself, this Stoker in about another half-minute would have been dancing round the room, strewing roses out of his hat. He was within a short jump of becoming a thing compact entirely of sweetness and light. Now he suddenly stiffened, and a mulish look came into his eye. You could see his haughty spirit resented being rushed.

'I won't do anything of the sort!'

'Oh, father!'

'Telling me what I'm to do and what I'm not to do.'

'I didn't mean it like that.'

'Never mind how you meant it.'

Affairs had taken an unpleasant turn. Old Stoker was gruffling to himself like a not too sunny bulldog. Pauline was looking as if she had recently taken a short-arm punch in the solar plexus. Chuffy had the air of a man who has not yet recovered from being compared to Lord Wotwotleigh. And, as for me, while I could see that it was a moment that called for the intervention of a silver-tongued orator, I felt it wasn't much use having a pop at being a silver-tongued orator if one hadn't anything to say, and I hadn't.

So all that occurred was a good deal of silence, and this silence was still in progress and getting momentarily stickier, when there was a knock at the door and in floated Jeeves.

'Excuse me, sir,' he said, shimmering towards old Stoker and presenting an envelope on a salver. A seaman from your yacht has just brought this cablegram, which arrived shortly after your departure this morning. The captain of the vessel, fancying that it might be of an urgent nature, instructed him to convey it to this house. I took it from him at the back door and hastened hither with it in order to deliver it to you personally.'

The way he put it made the whole thing seem like one of those great epics you read about. You followed the procedure step by step, and the interest and drama worked up to the big moment. Old Stoker, however, instead of being thrilled, seemed somewhat on the impatient side.

'What you mean is, there's a cable for me.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then why not say so, damn it, instead of making a song about it. Do you think you're singing in opera, or something? Gimme.'

Jeeves handed over the missive with a dignified reserve, and drifted out with salver. Stoker started to rip open the envelope.

'I shall certainly not say anything of the kind to Glossop,' he said, resuming the discussion. 'If he cares to come to me and apologize, I may possibly...'

His voice died away with a sort of sound not unlike the last utterance of one of those toy ducks you inflate and then let the air out of. His jaw had dropped, and he was staring at the cable as if he had suddenly discovered he was fondling a tarantula. The next moment there proceeded from his lips an observation which even in these lax modern days I should certainly not have considered suitable for mixed company.

Pauline hopped towards him. Solicitous. When pain and anguish racks the brow stuff.

'What's the matter, father?'

Old Stoker was making gulping noises.

'It's happened!'

'What has happened?'

'What? What?' I saw Chuffy start. 'What? What? I'll tell you what. They're contesting old George's will!'

'You don't mean that!'

'I do mean that. Read it for yourself

Pauline studied the document. She looked up, rattled.

'But if this goes through, bang goes our fifty million.'

'Of course it does.'

'We shan't have a cent, hardly.'

Chuffy came to life with a jerk.

'Say that again! Do you mean you've lost all your money?'

'It looks like it.'

'Fine!' said Chuffy. 'Great. Ripping. Wonderful. Topping. Splendid!'

Pauline gave a sort of jump.

'Why, so it is, isn't it?'

'Of course it is. I'm broke. You're broke. Let's rush off and get married.'

'Of course.'

'This makes everything all right. Nobody can say I'm like Wotwotleigh now.'

'They certainly can't.'

'Wotwotleigh, on hearing the news, would have edged out.'

'I should say so. You wouldn't have been able to see him for dust.'

'It's marvellous!'

'It's magnificent!'

'In all my life, I've never heard of such a bit of luck as this.'

'Nor have I.'

'Coming just at the right time.'

'Exactly at the right time.'

'It's topping!'

'It's simply great!'

Their fresh young enthusiasm seemed to affect old Stoker like a boil on the cheekbone.

'Stop talking that infernal rot and listen to me. Haven't you any sense at all? What do you mean, you've lost your money? Do you think I'm going to lie down and let this go through without making any come-back? They haven't a dog's chance. Old George was as sane as I am, and I've got Sir Roderick Glossop, the greatest alienist in England, to prove it.'

'But you haven't.'

'I've only to put Glossop on the witness stand, and their case collapses like a bubble.'

'But Sir Roderick won't testify for you now you've quarrelled with him.'

Old Stoker sizzled a bit. Or fumed, if you care to put it that way.

'Who says I've quarrelled with him? Show me the half-wit who dares to assert that I'm not on the most cordial terms with Sir Roderick Glossop. Just because we had a trifling, temporary difference such as happens to the closest of friends, does that mean that we're not like brothers?'

'But suppose he won't apologize to you?'

'There has never been any question of his apologizing to me. I shall naturally apologize to him. I suppose I'm man enough to admit it frankly when I realize that I have been in the wrong and have wounded my best friend's feelings, aren't I? Of course I shall apologize to him, and he will accept my apology in the spirit in which it is given. There is nothing small about Sir Roderick Glossop. I'll have him over in New York, testifying his head off, inside of two weeks. What's the name of that place he's staying at? Seaview Hotel, isn't it? I'll get him on the wire at once and arrange a meeting.'

I had to put in a word here.

'He's not at the hotel. I know, because Jeeves was trying to get him just now and drew a blank.'

'Then where is he?'

'I couldn't say.'

'He must be somewhere.'

'Ah!' I said, following the reasoning and finding it sound. 'So he is, no doubt. But where? Quite possibly he's in London by now.'

'Why London?'

'Why not?'

'Was he planning to go to London?'

'He may have been.'

'What's his address in London?'

'I don't know.'

'Don't any of you know?'

'I don't,' said Pauline.

'I don't,' said Chuffy.

'A lot of use you are to a man,' said old Stoker severely. 'Get out! We're busy.'

The remark was addressed to Jeeves, who had come floating in again. It's one of this man's most remarkable properties, that now you see him and now you don't. Or, rather, now you don't see him and now you do. You're talking of this and that and you suddenly sense a presence, so to speak, and there he is.

'I beg your pardon, sir,' said Jeeves. 'I was desirous of speaking to his lordship for a moment.'

Chuffy waved a hand. Distrait.

'Later on, Jeeves.'

'Very good, m'lord.'

'We're a little busy just now.'

'Just so, m'lord.'

'Well, it's not going to be so hard to locate a man of Sir Roderick's eminence,' said old Stoker, resuming. 'His address would be in Who's Who. Have you got a Who's Who?

'No,' said Chuffy.

Old Stoker flung the hands skyward.