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"We were having a little tea," said Psmith, "to restore our tissues after our journey. Come in and join us. We keep open house, we Psmiths. Let me introduce you to Comrade Jackson. A stout fellow. Homely in appearance, perhaps, but one of us. I am Psmith. Your own name will doubtless come up in the course of general chitchat over the teacups." "My name's Spiller, and this is my study."
To get there it was necessary to pass through a section of the enemy's country; but the perilous passage was safely negotiated. The expedition reached its unsavoury goal intact. The wop kid, whose name, it appeared, was Giuseppe Orloni, inhabited a small room at the very top of the building next to the one Psmith and Mike had visited on their first appearance in Pleasant Street.
"It certainly appears, sir," said Psmith sympathetically, "to be free from paint. There's a sort of reddish glow just there, if you look at it sideways," he added helpfully. "Did you place that boot there, Smith?" "I must have done. Then, when I lost the key " "Are you satisfied now, Downing?" interrupted Mr. Outwood with asperity, "or is there any more furniture you wish to break?"
In the ordinary course of things it would probably have moved on long before Psmith and Mike could have got to it; but the conductor, a man with sporting blood in him, seeing what appeared to be the finish of some Marathon Race, refrained from giving the signal, and moved out into the road to observe events more clearly, at the same time calling to the driver, who joined him.
"By the number of dollars he was ready to put up to have you done in." Billy's eyes snapped. "Oh?" he said. "And which gang has he given the job to?" "I wish I could tell you. He his agent, that is came to Bat Jarvis." "The cat-expert?" said Psmith. "A man of singularly winsome personality." "Bat turned the job down." "Why was that?" inquired Billy.
Psmith's expression was one of pain. "My dear Comrade Jackson," said he, "you wrong me. You make me writhe. I'm surprised at you. I never thought to hear those words from Michael Jackson." "Well, I believe you did, all the same," said Mike obstinately. "And it was jolly good of you, too." Psmith moaned. The Wrykyn match was three parts over, and things were going badly for Sedleigh.
It is that shoe which I believe Smith to be concealing in this cupboard. Now, do you understand?" Mr. Outwood looked amazedly at Psmith, and Psmith shook his head sorrowfully at Mr. Outwood. Psmith's expression said, as plainly as if he had spoken the words, "We must humor him."
He was playing a lost game, and he was not the sort of man who plays lost games well. The Waring type is dangerous when it is winning, but it is apt to crumple up against strong defence. His next words proved his demoralisation. "I'll sue you for libel," said he. Psmith looked at him admiringly. "Say no more," he said, "for you will never beat that.
The old choice between Pleasure and Duty, Comrade Adair. A Boy's Crossroads." "Then you won't play?" "No," said Mike. "Archaeology," said Psmith, with a deprecatory wave of the hand, "will brook no divided allegiance from her devotees." Adair turned, and walked on. Scarcely had he gone, when another voice hailed them with precisely the same question.
"You may remember that he advised Doctor Watson never to take the first cab, or the second. He should have gone further, and urged him not to take cabs at all. Walking is far healthier." "You'll find it so," said Mr. Parker. Psmith eyed him curiously. "What are you going to do with me, Comrade Parker?" he asked. Mr. Parker did not reply. Psmith's eye turned again to the window.
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