CHAPTER XXII
CONCERNING MR. WARING
Psmith pushed back his chair slightly, stretched out his legs, andlit a cigarette. The resources of the Knickerbocker Hotel hadproved equal to supplying the fatigued staff of _Cosy Moments_ withan excellent dinner, and Psmith had stoutly declined to talkbusiness until the coffee arrived. This had been hard on Billy,who was bursting with his news. Beyond a hint that it wassensational he had not been permitted to go.
"More bright young careers than I care to think of," said Psmith,"have been ruined by the fatal practice of talking shop at dinner.But now that we are through, Comrade Windsor, by all means let ushave it. What's the name which Comrade Gooch so eagerly divulged?"
Billy leaned forward excitedly.
"Stewart Waring," he whispered.
"Stewart who?" asked Psmith.
Billy stared.
"Great Scott, man!" he said, "haven't you heard of Stewart Waring?"
"The name seems vaguely familiar, like Isinglass or Post-toasties.I seem to know it, but it conveys nothing to me."
"Don't you ever read the papers?"
"I toy with my _American_ of a morning, but my interest is confinedmainly to the sporting page which reminds me that Comrade Brady hasbeen matched against one Eddie Wood a month from to-day. Gratifyingas it is to find one of the staff getting on in life, I fear thiswill cause us a certain amount of inconvenience. Comrade Bradywill have to leave the office temporarily in order to go intotraining, and what shall we do then for a fighting editor? However,possibly we may not need one now. _Cosy Moments_ should be ableshortly to give its message to the world and ease up for a while.Which brings us back to the point. Who is Stewart Waring?"
"Stewart Waring is running for City Alderman. He's one of thebiggest men in New York!"
"Do you mean in girth? If so, he seems to have selected the rightcareer for himself."
"He's one of the bosses. He used to be Commissioner of Buildingsfor the city."
"Commissioner of Buildings? What exactly did that let him in for?"
"It let him in for a lot of graft."
"How was that?"
"Oh, he took it off the contractors. Shut his eyes and held out hishands when they ran up rotten buildings that a strong breeze wouldhave knocked down, and places like that Pleasant Street holewithout any ventilation."
"Why did he throw up the job?" inquired Psmith. "It seems to methat it was among the World's Softest. Certain drawbacks to it,perhaps, to the man with the Hair-Trigger Conscience; but I gatherthat Comrade Waring did not line up in that class. What was histrouble?"
"His trouble," said Billy, "was that he stood in with a contractorwho was putting up a music-hall, and the contractor put it up withmaterial about as strong as a heap of meringues, and it collapsedon the third night and killed half the audience."
"And then?"
"The papers raised a howl, and they got after the contractor, andthe contractor gave Waring away. It killed him for the time being."
"I should have thought it would have had that excellent resultpermanently," said Psmith thoughtfully. "Do you mean to say he gotback again after that?"
"He had to quit being Commissioner, of course, and leave the townfor a time; but affairs move so fast here that a thing like thatblows over. He made a bit of a pile out of the job, and couldafford to lie low for a year or two."
"How long ago was that?"
"Five years. People don't remember a thing here that happened fiveyears back unless they're reminded of it."
Psmith lit another cigarette.
"We will remind them," he said.
Billy nodded.
"Of course," he said, "one or two of the papers against him in thisAldermanic Election business tried to bring the thing up, but theydidn't cut any ice. The other papers said it was a shame, houndinga man who was sorry for the past and who was trying to make goodnow; so they dropped it. Everybody thought that Waring was on thelevel now. He's been shooting off a lot of hot air lately aboutphilanthropy and so on. Not that he has actually done a thing--notso much as given a supper to a dozen news-boys; but he's talked,and talk gets over if you keep it up long enough."
Psmith nodded adhesion to this dictum.
"So that naturally he wants to keep it dark about these tenements.It'll smash him at the election when it gets known."
"Why is he so set on becoming an Alderman," inquired Psmith.
"There's a lot of graft to being an Alderman," explained Billy.
"I see. No wonder the poor gentleman was so energetic in hismethods. What is our move now, Comrade Windsor?"
Billy stared.
"Why, publish the name, of course."
"But before then? How are we going to ensure the safety of ourevidence? We stand or fall entirely by that slip of paper, becausewe've got the beggar's name in the writing of his own collector,and that's proof positive."
"That's all right," said Billy, patting his breast-pocket."Nobody's going to get it from me."
Psmith dipped his hand into his trouser-pocket.
"Comrade Windsor," he said, producing a piece of paper, "how do wego?"
He leaned back in his chair, surveying Billy blandly through hiseye-glass. Billy's eyes were goggling. He looked from Psmith to thepaper and from the paper to Psmith.
"What--what the--?" he stammered. "Why, it's it!"
Psmith nodded.
"How on earth did you get it?"
Psmith knocked the ash off his cigarette.
"Comrade Windsor," he said, "I do not wish to cavil or carp or rubit in in any way. I will merely remark that you pretty nearlylanded us in the soup, and pass on to more congenial topics.Didn't you know we were followed to this place?"
"Followed!"
"By a merchant in what Comrade Maloney would call a tall-shaped hat.I spotted him at an early date, somewhere down by Twenty-ninthStreet. When we dived into Sixth Avenue for a space at Thirty-thirdStreet, did he dive, too? He did. And when we turned intoForty-second Street, there he was. I tell you, Comrade Windsor,leeches were aloof, and burrs non-adhesive compared with thattall-shaped-hatted blighter."
"Yes?"
"Do you remember, as you came to the entrance of this place,somebody knocking against you?"
"Yes, there was a pretty big crush in the entrance."
"There was; but not so big as all that. There was plenty of roomfor this merchant to pass if he had wished. Instead of which hebutted into you. I happened to be waiting for just that, so Imanaged to attach myself to his wrist with some vim and give it afairly hefty wrench. The paper was inside his hand."
Billy was leaning forward with a pale face.
"Jove!" he muttered.
"That about sums it up," said Psmith.
Billy snatched the paper from the table and extended it towardshim.
"Here," he said feverishly, "you take it. Gum, I never thought Iwas such a mutt! I'm not fit to take charge of a toothpick. Fancyme not being on the watch for something of that sort. I guess I wasso tickled with myself at the thought of having got the thing, thatit never struck me they might try for it. But I'm through. No morefor me. You're the man in charge now."
Psmith shook his head.
"These stately compliments," he said, "do my old heart good, but Ifancy I know a better plan. It happened that I chanced to have myeye on the blighter in the tall-shaped hat, and so was enabled toland him among the ribstones; but who knows but that in the crowdon Broadway there may not lurk other, unidentified blighters inequally tall-shaped hats, one of whom may work the samesleight-of-hand speciality on me? It was not that you were notcapable of taking care of that paper: it was simply that you didn'thappen to spot the man. Now observe me closely, for what follows isan exhibition of Brain."
He paid the bill, and they went out into the entrance-hall of thehotel. Psmith, sitting down at a table, placed the paper in anenvelope and addressed it to himself at the address of _CosyMoments_. After which, he stamped the envelope and dropped it intothe letter-box at
the back of the hall.
"And now, Comrade Windsor," he said, "let us stroll gentlyhomewards down the Great White Way. What matter though it be fairlystiff with low-browed bravoes in tall-shaped hats? They cannot harmus. From me, if they search me thoroughly, they may scoop a matterof eleven dollars, a watch, two stamps, and a packet ofchewing-gum. Whether they would do any better with you I do notknow. At any rate, they wouldn't get that paper; and that's themain thing."
"You're a genius," said Billy Windsor.
"You think so?" said Psmith diffidently. "Well, well, perhaps youare right, perhaps you are right. Did you notice the hired ruffianin the flannel suit who just passed? He wore a baffled look, Ifancy. And hark! Wasn't that a muttered 'Failed!' I heard? Or wasit the breeze moaning in the tree-tops? To-night is a cold,disappointing night for Hired Ruffians, Comrade Windsor."