CHAPTER XXV
TRAPPED
Mr. Jarvis was as good as his word. On the following morning, atten o'clock to the minute, he made his appearance at the office of_Cosy Moments_, his fore-lock more than usually well oiled in honourof the occasion, and his right coat-pocket bulging in a manner thatbetrayed to the initiated eye the presence of the faithful"canister." With him, in addition to his revolver, he brought along, thin young man who wore under his brown tweed coat ablue-and-red striped jersey. Whether he brought him as an ally incase of need or merely as a kindred soul with whom he might communeduring his vigil, was not ascertained.
Pugsy, startled out of his wonted calm by the arrival of thisdistinguished company, observed the pair, as they passed throughinto the inner office, with protruding eyes, and sat speechless fora full five minutes. Psmith received the new-corners in theeditorial sanctum with courteous warmth. Mr. Jarvis introduced hiscolleague.
"Thought I'd bring him along. Long Otto's his monaker."
"You did very rightly, Comrade Jarvis," Psmith assured him. "Yourunerring instinct did not play you false when it told you thatComrade Otto would be as welcome as the flowers in May. WithComrade Otto I fancy we shall make a combination which will requirea certain amount of tackling."
Mr. Jarvis confirmed this view. Long Otto, he affirmed, was norube, but a scrapper from Biffville-on-the-Slosh. The hardiesthooligan would shrink from introducing rough-house proceedings intoa room graced by the combined presence of Long Otto and himself.
"Then," said Psmith, "I can go about my professional duties with alight heart. I may possibly sing a bar or two. You will find cigarsin that box. If you and Comrade Otto will select one apiece andgroup yourselves tastefully about the room in chairs, I will startin to hit up a slightly spicy editorial on the coming election."
Mr. Jarvis regarded the paraphernalia of literature on the tablewith interest. So did Long Otto, who, however, being a man ofsilent habit, made no comment. Throughout the seance and the eventswhich followed it he confined himself to an occasional grunt. Heseemed to lack other modes of expression. A charming chap, however.
"Is dis where youse writes up pieces fer de paper?" inquired Mr.Jarvis, eyeing the table.
"It is," said Psmith. "In Comrade Windsor's pre-dungeon days he waswont to sit where I am sitting now, while I bivouacked over thereat the smaller table. On busy mornings you could hear our brainsbuzzing in Madison Square Garden. But wait! A thought strikes me."He called for Pugsy.
"Comrade Maloney," he said, "if the Editorial Staff of this paperwere to give you a day off, could you employ it to profit?"
"Surest t'ing you know," replied Pugsy with some fervour. "I'd takeme goil to de Bronx Zoo."
"Your girl?" said Psmith inquiringly. "I had heard no inkling ofthis, Comrade Maloney. I had always imagined you one of thosestrong, rugged, blood-and-iron men who were above the softeremotions. Who is she?"
"Aw, she's a kid," said Pugsy. "Her pa runs a delicatessen shopdown our street. She ain't a bad mutt," added the ardent swain."I'm her steady."
"See that I have a card for the wedding, Comrade Maloney," saidPsmith, "and in the meantime take her to the Bronx, as yousuggest."
"Won't youse be wantin' me to-day."
"Not to-day. You need a holiday. Unflagging toil is sapping yourphysique. Go up and watch the animals, and remember me very kindlyto the Peruvian Llama, whom friends have sometimes told me Iresemble in appearance. And if two dollars would in any way add tothe gaiety of the jaunt . . ."
"Sure t'ing. T'anks, boss."
"It occurred to me," said Psmith, when he had gone, "that theprobable first move of any enterprising Three Pointer who invadedthis office would be to knock Comrade Maloney on the head toprevent his announcing him. Comrade Maloney's services are toovaluable to allow him to be exposed to unnecessary perils. Anyvisitors who call must find their way in for themselves. And now towork. Work, the what's-its-name of the thingummy and thething-um-a-bob of the what d'you-call-it."
For about a quarter of an hour the only sound that broke thesilence of the room was the scratching of Psmith's pen and themusical expectoration of Messrs. Otto and Jarvis. Finally Psmithleaned back in his chair with a satisfied expression, and spoke.
"While, as of course you know, Comrade Jarvis," he said, "there isno agony like the agony of literary composition, such toil has itscompensations. The editorial I have just completed contains itsmeasure of balm. Comrade Otto will bear me out in my statement thatthere is a subtle joy in the manufacture of the well-formed phrase.Am I not right, Comrade Otto?"
The long one gazed appealingly at Mr. Jarvis, who spoke for him.
"He's a bit shy on handin' out woids, is Otto," he said.
Psmith nodded.
"I understand. I am a man of few words myself. All great men arelike that. Von Moltke, Comrade Otto, and myself. But what arewords? Action is the thing. That is the cry. Action. If that isComrade Otto's forte, so much the better, for I fancy that actionrather than words is what we may be needing in the space of about aquarter of a minute. At least, if the footsteps I hear without are,as I suspect, those of our friends of the Three Points."
Jarvis and Long Otto turned towards the door. Psmith was right.Some one was moving stealthily in the outer office. Judging fromthe sound, more than one person.
"It is just as well," said Psmith softly, "that Comrade Maloney isnot at his customary post. Now, in about a quarter of a minute, asI said--Aha!"
The handle of the door began to revolve slowly and quietly. Thenext moment three figures tumbled into the room. It was evidentthat they had not expected to find the door unlocked, and theabsence of resistance when they applied their weight had hadsurprising effects. Two of the three did not pause in their careertill they cannoned against the table. The third, who was holdingthe handle, was more fortunate.
Psmith rose with a kindly smile to welcome his guests.
"Why, surely!" he said in a pleased voice. "I thought I knew theface. Comrade Repetto, this is a treat. Have you come bringing me anew hat?"
The white-haired leader's face, as he spoke, was within a fewinches of his own. Psmith's observant eye noted that the bruisestill lingered on the chin where Kid Brady's upper-cut had landedat their previous meeting.
"I cannot offer you all seats," he went on, "unless you care todispose yourselves upon the tables. I wonder if you know myfriend, Mr. Bat Jarvis? And my friend, Mr. L. Otto? Let us all getacquainted on this merry occasion."
The three invaders had been aware of the presence of the great Batand his colleague for some moments, and the meeting seemed to becausing them embarrassment. This may have been due to the fact thatboth Mr. Jarvis and Mr. Otto had produced and were toyingmeditatively with distinctly ugly-looking pistols.
Mr. Jarvis spoke.
"Well," he said, "what's doin'?"
Mr. Repetto, to whom the remark was directly addressed, appeared tohave some difficulty in finding a reply. He shuffled his feet, andlooked at the floor. His two companions seemed equally at a loss.
"Goin' to start any rough stuff?" inquired Mr. Jarvis casually.
"The cigars are on the table," said Psmith hospitably. "Draw upyour chairs, and let's all be jolly. I will open the proceedingswith a song."
In a rich baritone, with his eyeglass fixed the while on Mr.Repetto, he proceeded to relieve himself of the first verse of"I only know I love thee."
"Chorus, please," he added, as he finished. "Come along, ComradeRepetto. Why this shrinking coyness? Fling out your chest, and cutloose."
But Mr. Repetto's eye was fastened on Mr. Jarvis's revolver. Thesight apparently had the effect of quenching his desire for song.
"'Lov' muh, ahnd ther world is--ah--mine!'" concluded Psmith.
He looked round the assembled company.
"Comrade Otto," he observed, "will now recite that pathetic littlepoem 'Baby's Sock is now a Blue-bag.' Pray, gentlemen, silence forComrade Otto."
He looked inquiringly at the long youth, who
remained mute. Psmithclicked his tongue regretfully.
"Comrade Jarvis," he said, "I fear that as a smoking-concert thisis not going to be a success. I understand, however. ComradeRepetto and his colleagues have come here on business, and nothingwill make them forget it. Typical New York men of affairs, theyclose their minds to all influences that might lure them from theirbusiness. Let us get on, then. What did you wish to see me about,Comrade Repetto?"
Mr. Repetto's reply was unintelligible.
Mr. Jarvis made a suggestion.
"Youse had better beat it," he said.
Long Otto grunted sympathy with this advice.
"And youse had better go back to Spider Reilly," continued Mr.Jarvis, "and tell him that there's nothin' doin' in the way ofrough house wit dis gent here." He indicated Psmith, who bowed."And you can tell de Spider," went on Bat with growing ferocity,"dat next time he gits gay and starts in to shoot guys in medance-joint I'll bite de head off'n him. See? Does dat go? If het'inks his little two-by-four gang can put it across de GroomeStreet, he can try. Dat's right. An' don't fergit dis gent here andme is pals, and any one dat starts anyt'ing wit dis gent is goingto have to git busy wit me. Does dat go?"
Psmith coughed, and shot his cuffs.
"I do not know," he said, in the manner of a chairman addressing ameeting, "that I have anything to add to the very well-expressedremarks of my friend, Comrade Jarvis. He has, in my opinion,covered the ground very thoroughly and satisfactorily. It now onlyremains for me to pass a vote of thanks to Comrade Jarvis and todeclare this meeting at an end."
"Beat it," said Mr. Jarvis, pointing to the door.
The delegation then withdrew.
"I am very much obliged," said Psmith, "for your courtlyassistance, Comrade Jarvis. But for you I do not care to think withwhat a splash I might not have been immersed in the gumbo. Thankyou, Comrade Jarvis. And you, Comrade Otto."
"Aw chee!" said Mr. Jarvis, handsomely dismissing the matter. Mr.Otto kicked the leg of the table, and grunted.
* * *
For half an hour after the departure of the Three Pointers Psmithchatted amiably to his two assistants on matters of generalinterest. The exchange of ideas was somewhat one-sided, though Mr.Jarvis had one or two striking items of information to impart,notably some hints on the treatment of fits in kittens.
At the end of this period the conversation was once moreinterrupted by the sound of movements in the outer office.
"If dat's dose stiffs come back--" began Mr. Jarvis, reaching forhis revolver.
"Stay your hand, Comrade Jarvis," said as a sharp knock sounded onthe door. "I do not think it can be our late friends. ComradeRepetto's knowledge of the usages of polite society is too limited,I fancy, to prompt him to knock on doors. Come in."
The door opened. It was not Mr. Repetto or his colleagues, butanother old friend. No other, in fact, than Mr. Francis Parker, hewho had come as an embassy from the man up top in the verybeginning of affairs, and had departed, wrathful, mouthingdeclarations of war. As on his previous visit, he wore the dudesuit, the shiny shoes, and the tall-shaped hat.
"Welcome, Comrade Parker," said Psmith. "It is too long since wemet. Comrade Jarvis I think you know. If I am right, that is tosay, in supposing that it was you who approached him at an earlierstage in the proceedings with a view to engaging his sympatheticaid in the great work of putting Comrade Windsor and myself out ofbusiness. The gentleman on your left is Comrade Otto."
Mr. Parker was looking at Bat in bewilderment. It was plain thathe had not expected to find Psmith entertaining such company.
"Did you come purely for friendly chit-chat, Comrade Parker,"inquired Psmith, "or was there, woven into the social motives ofyour call, a desire to talk business of any kind?"
"My business is private. I didn't expect a crowd."
"Especially of ancient friends such as Comrade Jarvis. Well, well,you are breaking up a most interesting little symposium. ComradeJarvis, I think I shall be forced to postpone our very entertainingdiscussion of fits in kittens till a more opportune moment.Meanwhile, as Comrade Parker wishes to talk over some privatebusiness--"
Bat Jarvis rose.
"I'll beat it," he said.
"Reluctantly, I hope, Comrade Jarvis. As reluctantly as I hint thatI would be alone. If I might drop in some time at your privateresidence?"
"Sure," said Mr. Jarvis warmly.
"Excellent. Well, for the present, good-bye. And many thanks foryour invaluable co-operation."
"Aw chee!" said Mr. Jarvis.
"And now, Comrade Parker," said Psmith, when the door had closed,"let her rip. What can I do for you?"
"You seem to be all to the merry with Bat Jarvis," observed Mr.Parker.
"The phrase exactly expresses it, Comrade Parker. I am as atortoiseshell kitten to him. But, touching your business?"
Mr. Parker was silent for a moment.
"See here," he said at last, "aren't you going to be good? Say,what's the use of keeping on at this fool game? Why not quit itbefore you get hurt?"
Psmith smoothed his waistcoat reflectively.
"I may be wrong, Comrade Parker," he said, "but it seems to me thatthe chances of my getting hurt are not so great as you appear toimagine. The person who is in danger of getting hurt seems to meto be the gentleman whose name is on that paper which is now in mypossession."
"Where is it?" demanded Mr. Parker quickly.
Psmith eyed him benevolently.
"If you will pardon the expression, Comrade Parker," he said,"'Aha!' Meaning that I propose to keep that information to myself."
Mr. Parker shrugged his shoulders.
"You know your own business, I guess."
Psmith nodded.
"You are absolutely correct, Comrade Parker. I do. Now that _CosyMoments_ has our excellent friend Comrade Jarvis on its side, areyou not to a certain extent among the Blenheim Oranges? I thinkso. I think so."
As he spoke there was a rap at the door. A small boy entered. Inhis hand was a scrap of paper.
"Guy asks me give dis to gazebo named Smiff," he said.
"There are many gazebos of that name, my lad. One of whom I amwhich, as Artemus Ward was wont to observe. Possibly the missive isfor me."
He took the paper. It was dated from an address on the East Side.
"Dear Smith," it ran. "Come here as quick as you can, and bringsome money. Explain when I see you."
It was signed "W. W."
So Billy Windsor had fulfilled his promise. He had escaped.
A feeling of regret for the futility of the thing was Psmith'sfirst emotion. Billy could be of no possible help in the campaignat its present point. All the work that remained to be done couldeasily be carried through without his assistance. And by breakingout from the Island he had committed an offence which was bound tocarry with it serious penalties. For the first time since hisconnection with _Cosy Moments_ began Psmith was really disturbed.
He turned to Mr. Parker.
"Comrade Parker," he said, "I regret to state that this office isnow closing for the day. But for this, I should be delighted to sitchatting with you. As it is--"
"Very well," said Mr. Parker. "Then you mean to go on with thisbusiness?"
"Though it snows, Comrade Parker."
They went out into the street, Psmith thoughtful and hardlyrealising the other's presence. By the side of the pavement a fewyards down the road a taximeter-cab was standing. Psmith hailed it.
Mr. Parker was still beside him. It occurred to Psmith that itwould not do to let him hear the address Billy Windsor had given inhis note.
"Turn and go on down the street," he said to the driver.
He had taken his seat and was closing the door, when it wassnatched from his grasp and Mr. Parker darted on to the seatopposite. The next moment the cab had started up the streetinstead of down and the hard muzzle of a revolver was pressingagainst Psmith's waistcoat.
"Now what?" said Mr. Parker smoothly, leaning back with the pistolr
esting easily on his knee.