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Updated: June 11, 2025
I remember distinctly that he complained bitterly of the pain in his elbow when we started out, and that he was as fit as a fiddle at the eighteenth hole. He even went so far as to implore me to stay over till the next sailing of the Mauretania. But I took to the high seas. Mr. Poopendyke cabled to the Homestead at Hot Springs for suitable accommodations.
"I shall probably kick him over the cliff," I said, with a scowl. She laid her hand upon my arm. "Be careful," she said very earnestly, "for my sake." Poopendyke had already started down the stairs. I raised her hand to my lips. Then I rushed away, cursing myself for a fool, an ingrate, a presumptuous bounder. My uncalled-for act had brought a swift flush of anger to her cheek.
I demanded. "Tell me that!" They shook their heads, almost compassionately, as much as to say, "It is always best to humour a mad man." "And the baby," added Poopendyke, turning up his coat collar to protect his thin neck from the draft that smote us from the halls. "Smash those padlocks, Max," I commanded resolutely.
It was nearly twelve when my secretary reported to me on this particular morning, and he seemed a trifle hazy as to the results of the games. After he had mumbled something about rain or wet grounds, I coldly enquired: "Mr. Poopendyke, are you employed by me or by that woman upstairs?" I would never have spoken of her as "that woman," believe me, if I had not been in a state of irritation.
He proceeded to treat me in the most cavalier fashion by bristling and growling. The Countess opened her eyes very wide. "Dear me," she sighed, "you must be very like the Count, after all. Jinko never growls at any one but him." At dinner that evening I asked Poopendyke point blank if he could call to mind a marriage in New York society that might fit the principals in this puzzling case.
I was so eager to get rid of it that I would have wired at once, naming a figure proportionately low had it not been for the united protests of my four friends and the canny advice of Mr. Poopendyke. "Soak him," said he, and I arose to the occasion.
Never have I known anything so ludicrous as the contrast between my stupendous number tens and the dainty pumps that seemed almost babyish beside them. Then I did the very thing I had excoriated Poopendyke for even suggesting. I asked Britton! "Britton, what's all this gossip I hear going the rounds of the castle behind my back?" Confound him, he looked pleased! "It's quite true, sir, quite true."
Poopendyke, in great distress of mind, notified me on the fourth day of rehabilitation that the cost of labour as well as living had gone up appreciably since our installation. In fact it had doubled. He paid all of my bills, so I suppose he knew what he was talking about. "You will be surprised to know, Mr.
So it is not unreasonable to suppose that I was more than glad to see Poopendyke clambering up the path with his typewriter in one hand and his green baise bag in the other, followed close behind by Britton and the Gargantuan brothers bearing trunks, bags, boxes and my golf clubs.
"Poopendyke goes to church in it," I said vaguely, leaving her to guess what it was that Poopendyke went to church in, or, perhaps, knowing what I meant, how I happened to be in it for the time being. "You've been crying!" Her eyes were red and suspiciously moist. As she met my concerned gaze, a wavering, whimsical smile crept into her face. "It has been a disgustingly wet night," she said.
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