Albert considered the matter thoughtfully.
“So you just went back and got some more eh?” he asked quietly.
“Yup,” George answered hesitantly. “Where did you go?” Albert asked patiently.
“To a place,” George answered brightly, “to a place where they got it.” Albert settled down in a chair and crossed his knees carefully. He lighted a cigarette and blew a cloud of blue smoke toward the ceiling. Somehow, it seemed desperately important to him to do these unimportant things deliberately and methodically. George stood before him, his face a mixture of anxiety and fear.
“Have you got any more of this stuff?” Albert asked casually.
“Yup,” George’s voice was happy and hopeful, “I brung lots of it cause I thought youse would like it.”
Albert had a temporary siege of dizziness, but it passed, leaving him outwardly calm, but inwardly shaking. “Where is it?” he managed to ask. George was smiling broadly.
“I knew yuh would like it,” he said relieved. “I yam glad ’cause I only want to do things yuh will like.”
“That is very touching,” Albert said, with a bit of irritation, “but please tell me where the rest of the stuff is.”
“Oh sure,” George said anxiously.
He stepped to the closet door and jerked it open.
Albert sucked in his breath sharply, jolted completely from his affected calm and indifference. For the closet was literally stuffed full of bundle after bundle of crisp, green banknotes!
Piled six feet from the floor, they formed a column fully two feet square.
“There must be,” Albert thought with a sickening gasp, “millions on millions of dollars cached in that closet!”
“George,” he gasped weakly, “where did you get this stuff?”
“From the place,” George answered proudly, “from the place wit all the steel bars and cages. I found all this stuff down in de basement in a big vault. I just took all I could see. Why? Ain’tcha glad?”
“No,” moaned Albert, “I am not glad. This is stolen property. I’ll go to jail for grand larceny, and by the time I get out I’ll have whiskers down to my knees.”
“Don’cha like whiskers,” George asked solicitously.
Albert sighed helplessly.
“No,” he said, with a quiet prayer for patience, “I don’t like whiskers.” Before George could reply there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Albert asked, heart hammering wildly in sudden guilt.
“It’s me. Margot.”
Albert slammed the closet door shut. “Coming dear!” he sang out. He shoved George into the bathroom and closed the door on his bewildered, wounded countenance. “Right away dear!” he cried with false heartiness. He hurried across the room then, throwing open the door. Margot was in the hallway, a mischievous smile dancing in her eyes.
“The elephant gun,” she announced solemnly, “has been hung back on the wall and all the cartridges removed.”
“Darling,” Albert cried unbelievingly, “it’s too good to be true!”
“You’re forgiven,” Margot said seriously, “but you must be on your best behavior from now on. Father is still furious but he’s willing to let bygones be bygones.”
“Very sporting of the old boy,” Albert said cheerfully. “I’ll be the model young man for the rest of my stay.”
“Since you’re staying,” Margot said resolutely, “I’ll help you unpack. The closet in this room is in a frightful state. It should have been straightened out before you arrived, but we can attend to it now.” She smiled up at him. “It’ll be kind of fun working together won’t it? As if it were our own place.”
Albert smiled down at her and wondered how such an angel could actually be in love with him. “Come in, darling,” he said blissfully, “we’ll pitch right into it, clean things up in—” His voice choked off in his throat as one appalling thought suddenly struck him. The closet was packed with ill-gotten currency of the realm. He would be branded a vicious bank robber while his promises to be on his best behavior were still echoing through the room!
“No, no,” he cried, “you can’t go in there!”
“Why, Albert,” Margot stared at him in amazement. “What do you mean?”
“I–I mean,” Albert thought desperately, “I won’t have you lowering yourself. That’s what I mean. I–I’ll do the work, er, after you’ve gone. I don’t want you soiling those little white hands of yours. What kind of a man do you think I am anyway?”
“Oh, Albert,” Margot laughed, “that is sweet of you. But it’s also very silly. I don’t mind the work a bit. And it simply has to be done. So let’s get busy.”
“No,” Albert cried frantically, “you don’t understand, Margot! You really mustn’t go into this closet. This is very serious, dear, and I wish you would respect my wishes.”
“Albert,” Margot said worriedly, “you’re acting awfully strange.”
Albert thought frantically.
“My aunt was killed from overwork,” he lied brazenly, “and since that day I can’t bear to see any woman working. I’ve never told you — but now you know how I feel.”
“You never told me about your aunt,” Margot said suspiciously. “I understood that you didn’t have any.”
“Life’s little surprises,” Albert said inanely. “Variety is the spice of things y’know. Aunt Agatha was a great old girl. She used to shovel coal, split wood, haul ice, take care of the horses. Indispensable type y’know. But the strain told on her and just before her ninetieth birthday she passed away. We all missed her terribly. The horses most of all. So that’s how it is. Till this day I can’t bear to see the weaker sex putting their nose to the wheel as it were.”
He took her by the arm and led her to the door.
“I’ll take care of the closet,” he said blithely. “Pip! Pip!”
“You are completely crazy,” she murmured. “It’s a wonder I put up with you at all. I’ll leave, for you obviously want me to, but don’t forget dinner at six. It’s your last chance to prove to father that you haven’t got squirrel blood in you.”
“But I have,” Albert pointed out solemnly, before he closed the door.
“Why didn’tcha let her in the closet?” George’s voice, perplexed and unhappy, sounded behind him.
Albert turned wearily.
“You wouldn’t understand George,” he said, sighing. “It’s very involved.”
“Would it fix things,” George asked intently, “if I wuz to fill all the closets up with that green stuff?”
“No!” Albert shouted. His patience was fraying fast. “Why don’t you leave me alone? You bother me. You give me a pain in the neck.”
“You — you mean that?” George asked sorrowfully.
“Certainly,” Albert snapped.
“Okay,” George sighed. “I don’t like to do it but I yam only trying to please.” The genie waved one hand in the air slowly and Albert felt a sudden sharp pain flash up his back to his neck.
“Ouch,” he yelled. “What the devil are you doing?”
George looked bewilderedly apologetic.
“You told me to give you a pain in the neck,” he said stubbornly. “I yam only doing what I yarn told.”
“All right, all right,” Albert said desperately. “Get a towel and some hot water.”
It took George the rest of the afternoon to massage Albert’s neck back to its customary limberness and wellbeing. By the time the job was done Albert had to break all speed records in clambering into his evening clothes. It wouldn’t do to be late for dinner tonight, of all nights. The old boy would simply scalp him without any preliminaries at all.