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Authors: P G Wodehouse

Tags: #Humour

Luck of the Bodkins (29 page)

BOOK: Luck of the Bodkins
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'What do you want the steward for?'


What do you think I want the steward for?

With a replenished glass at his side, Monty became calmer. He still had that shaken look and one could see that he had passed through some experience which had tested him to the utmost, but his voice, if toneless, was level.

‘I’
ve just had the dickens of a time, Reggie, old man.

'With Lottie Blossom?'

'With the purser and the doctor and the ship's detective. Did you know ships had detectives? I didn't. But they have. Big chaps with moustaches. Have you ever seen a sergeant-major? Well, that'll give you some idea.'

He fell into that trancelike silence again, and it was only by placing the lighted end of his cigarette gently on the back of his hand that Reggie was enabled to secure his attention once more. 'Ouch I' cried Monty.

'Carry on, old boy,' said Reggie. 'You have our ear. You were talking about pursers and doctors and ship's detectives.

'So I was. Yes. I see now, of course,' said Monty, 'that I ought never to have gone.'

'Gone where?'


To the purser. But when the Blossom took that attitude, there seemed no other course.' 'What attitude?'

‘I
'm telling you. A beastly, low-down, sneering, jeering -' 'You've been chatting with her, then?' 'No, I haven't. We corresponded per Peasemarch.' 'Oh, you wrote to her?'

'And she wrote to me. And Peasemarch flitted to and fro, singing the "Yeoman's Wedding Song
’’
.' 'Doing what?

'Nothing, nothing. What I'm driving at is that I wrote to her demanding the immediate return of the Mickey Mouse, and she wrote back - per, as I say, Peasemarch - informing me that unless I went to old Llewellyn and signed on with him and got him to give Ambrose a contract she was going to flaunt the mouse openly and tell Gertrude that I had given it to her.'

Reggie looked grave.

‘I
hadn't thought of that. Yes, I see, that's the line she would take. Holding you up, what? Strategic, beyond a doubt, though
a
thoroughly dirty trick, of course. Still, women are women.

'No, they aren't. Not all of them.

'Perhaps you're right,' said Reggie pacifically. 'What did you do then?'

‘I
let her have it straight. I said I would go to the purser.' Monty gave a little shiver. 'I've just been,' he said. 'What happened?'

Monty endeavoured to restore his composure with a sip at his glass. It was evident that it hurt him to dwell upon what had occurred.

'It was an unfortunate mov
e, old man. I thought the whole
thing was going to be perfectly plain and straightforward, but it wasn't.' 'What happened?

'I'm telling you. I went in and said: "Could I have a word," and the purser said yes, I could have a word, so I sat down and said: "I must ask you to treat this as entirely confidential," and he said: "Treat what as entirely confidential?" and I said: "What I am about to tell you. Entirely confidential is what I must ask you to treat what I am about to tell you as," and he said: "Right ho," or words to that effect, and I said: "Purser, I've been robbed!"

'That stirred him up?

'Quite a bit. He touched a bell, seeming distraught As
a
matter of fact, he clutched it' 'The bell?'

'His hair. I wish you would listen. I tell you he clutched his hair. And when he had clutched his hair, he said something about there being notices posted all over the ship, imploring people not to play cards with strangers, and in spite of that he had never known a single voyage finish without someone coming to him and complaining that they had been rooked by sharpers. And I said I hadn't been rooked by any sharpers, I'd been robbed. And he clutched his hair again and said did I mean that I had had valuables stolen from me? and I said: "Yes, absolutely." And at this juncture old William the Walrus came in - in response, no doubt, to the bell.'

'This W. Walrus being who?'

'That's what I
wondered for a moment, but the purser said: "This is the ship's detective," and something about tell him my story and: "My God this sort of thing doesn't do the Line any good, people being robbed as soon as they set foot on board," so I said: "Good afternoon, detective, I've been robbed." And the detective said: "You don't say that, sir?" And I said: "You silly ass, I've just said it." I was a bit overwrought at the moment, you understand?'

'Quite.'

Monty sipped and resumed.

'Well, then the purser and the Walrus started greatly conferencing. The purser said had the Walrus noticed any gangs on board? And the Walrus said: "No, not what you would call gangs." And the purser said that that was rummy, because these big robberies were usually the work of some gang of international crooks. And then they conferenced a bit more, and then the Walrus said that the first thing to do was to get a full description of the lost valuables, and he hauled out a note-book and said: "Perhaps, Mr Bodkin, you will just give me a complete list of the missing jewellery." And it was at that moment, old man, that I began to see that I had made a bit of an ass of myself. You know how it is.'

Reggie nodded. He knew how it was.

'It was only then that it suddenly occurred to me that it might seem a little odd, a chap sending out SOS's and calling in ship's detectives because he had lost a brown plush Mickey Mouse. And they did think it odd, too, because no sooner had I sprung the news than the purser gave a sort of gulp and the Walrus gave a sort of gulp and they looked at one another, and then the purser went out and came back in a minute or two with the doctor, and the doctor asked me a lot of questions about: "Did I feel dizzy?" and: "Were there floating spots in front of my eyes?" and: "Had I as a child ever been dropped on my head?" and: "Did I hear voices and imagine that people were following me about?" and the upshot of the whole thing was that he led me out in a foul, fatherly sort of way -very kind and gentle, if you know what I mean, and told me to lie down and keep out of the hot sun and take something which he would send me, in a little water every two hours.'

Reggie Tennyson was a clear, keen thinker. He could read between the lines.

"They thought you were off your rocker.

That's the way it looked to me.'

'H'm ...
Were
you ever dropped on your head as a child?

'Not that I know of.'

‘I
was just wondering.'

Reggie pondered.

'Most unpleasant,' he said.

'Most,' agreed Monty.

'And when all the smoke's blown away you're still minus the mouse.


Yes.

'And Lottie isn't just bluffing? She'll do what she said?


Yes.

Reggie pondered again.

'It looks to me as if the only thing you can do is meet her conditions.' 'What, become a movie actor?' That's about how it seems to pan out.

A febrile spasm shook Monty.

'I won't become a bally movie actor. The mere thought of it gives me the pip. I hate acting. I've always dodged even amateur theatricals. Many's the time I've had an invitation to go and stay for
a
couple of weeks at some house and wanted to go and found out at the eleventh hour that they were doing A Pantomime Rehearsal or something in aid of the local Church Organ Fund and backed out like a rabbit. It's a regular what-d'you-call-it with me.'

'How do you mean,
a
what-d'you-call-it?'

'I can't remember the name. One of those ob things.


Obsession?'

That's right. It's a regular obsession.

'Curious,' mused Reggie. 'I like acting myself. Did I ever tell you -?' 'Yes.' 'When?

'Oh, some time or other. And, anyway, we're talking about this mouse of mine.'

'Yes,' said Reggie, called to order, 'that's true. So we are. Well, if you won't become a movie actor, it seems to me that we come back to the original problem. How are you to secure the mouse?'

'Can you suggest anything?'

'Well, it crossed my mind - No, that wouldn't work.


What were you going to say?' Reggie shook his head. 'No, dismiss the idea.'

'How the devil,' demanded Monty, not without
a
certain show of reason, 'can I dismiss it if I don't know what it is? What crossed your mind?'


Well, it was just that it occurred to me that usually when anyone has something that you want to get hold of, you can buy it back, and I was wondering if this mouse binge couldn't be put on a commercial basis.'

Monty started.


Gosh!'


But in this case, I'm afraid ... what's that extraordinarily clever thing you're always saying?'

Monty was unable to help him out. His manner seemed to suggest that the field of identification was too wide.

‘I
remember. Wheels within wheels. In this case, I'm afraid, there are wheels within wheels. It wouldn't be any use offering Lottie money. What she wants is to get Ambrose a job. Because his principles are so high that unless he gets one he won't marry her. She would scorn your gold.'

Monty was not to be discouraged so readily. He thought the idea good. The notion of making a cash transaction of the thing appealed to him. It had not occurred to him before.

'How much gold do you think she would scorn?' he asked anxiously. Two thousand quid?'

Reggie started. It gave him a shock to hear a sum like that mentioned in such a matter-of-fact way. He had known Monty so long and was so accustomed to him that his amazing oofi-ness had a tendency to slip from the mind.

Two thousand quid? You wouldn't give that?

'Of course I'd give that. Still, I suppose, as you say,

said Monty, the first gush of enthusiasm ebbing, 'there's no use talking about it, blast it.'

A strange light had come into Reginald Tennyson's eyes. His nose twitched. He borrowed a cigarette with ill-concealed excitement.

'Ah, but wait,' he said. 'Wait! This situation is beginning to develop. I see possibilities in it. Let me get this clear. You seriously assert that that Mickey Mouse is worth two thousand pounds to you?'

'Of course it is.

'You would really hand over that colossal sum to the person who restored it to you?' 'On the nail. Why, dash it, I gave Percy Pilbeam a thousand to take me on as a skilled assistant in his Private Inquiry Agency, didn't I? This is a much more vital issue.' Reggie drew a deep breath,

'All right,' he said. 'Make out the cheque to R. Tennyson

Monty's brain was not at its brightest.

'Have
you
got the mouse?'

'Of course I haven't, ass.'

'Then why did you say you had?'

'I didn't say I had. But I'm going to get it.

Reggie leaned forward. Already, at an earlier point in the conversation, he had looked about him and ascertained that the smoking-room, as generally at this hour, was empty but for themselves; nevertheless, he lowered his voice. So much so that all Monty could hear was a confused buzzing sound in which he seemed to detect the words 'Mabel Spence'.

'Speak up,' he urged a little petulantly.

Reggie became more audible.

'It's this way, old boy. I don't mind telling you that I am at a man's cross-roads. You know Mabel Spence?' 'Of course.' 'I love her.' 'Well, get on.'

Reggie seemed a little wounded. However, he decided to continue without comment.

‘I
love Mabel, and in about forty-eight hours she will be on her way to Hollywood and I shall be headed for Montreal. And what I have been asking myself is: "Shall I follow her to Hollywood or shall I carry on and go to Montreal, as planned?" The catch to the latter scheme being that I shall probably pine myself
into a-decline without her: the
catch to the former scheme being that I should arrive in Hollywood with about five quid in my pocket and no job in sight. And two minutes ago,' said Reggie frankly,
‘I
would have laid a hundred to eight against the Golden West. Because, however much you're in love, you've got to eat, what?'

BOOK: Luck of the Bodkins
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