Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY
BY
P.G. WODEHOUSE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. JIMMY MAKES A BET II. PYRAMUS AND THISBE III. MR. MCEACHERN IV. MOLLY V. A THIEF IN THE NIGHT VI. AN EXHIBITION PERFORMANCE VII. GETTING ACQUAINTED VIII. AT DREEVER IX. FRIENDS, NEW AND OLD X. JIMMY ADOPTS A LAME DOG XI. AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD XII. MAKING A START XIII. SPIKE'S VIEWS XIV. CHECK AND A COUNTER MOVE XV. MR. McEACHERN INTERVENES XVI. A MARRIAGE ARRANGED XVII. JIMMY REMEMBERS SOMETHING XVIII. THE LOCHINVAR METHOD XIX. ON THE LAKE XX. A LESSON IN PICQUET XXI. LOATHSOME GIFTS XXII. TWO OF A TRADE DISAGREE XXIII. FAMILY JARS XXIV. THE TREASURE-SEEKER XXV. EXPLANATIONS XXVI. STIRRING TIMES FOR SIR THOMAS XXVII. A DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE XXVIII. SPENNIE'S HOUR OF CLEAR VISION XXIX. THE LAST ROUND XXX. CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
JIMMY MAKES A BET
The main smoking-room of the Strollers' Club had been filling forthe last half-hour, and was now nearly full. In many ways, theStrollers', though not the most magnificent, is the pleasantest clubin New York. Its ideals are comfort without pomp; and it is givenover after eleven o'clock at night mainly to the Stage. Everybody isyoung, clean-shaven, and full of conversation: and the conversationstrikes a purely professional note.
Everybody in the room on this July night had come from the theater.Most of those present had been acting, but a certain number had beento the opening performance of the latest better-than-Raffles play.There had been something of a boom that season in dramas whoseheroes appealed to the public more pleasantly across the footlightsthan they might have done in real life. In the play that had openedto-night, Arthur Mifflin, an exemplary young man off the stage, hadbeen warmly applauded for a series of actions which, performedanywhere except in the theater, would certainly have debarred himfrom remaining a member of the Strollers' or any other club. Infaultless evening dress, with a debonair smile on his face, he hadbroken open a safe, stolen bonds and jewelry to a large amount, andescaped without a blush of shame via the window. He had foiled adetective through four acts, and held up a band of pursuers with arevolver. A large audience had intimated complete approvalthroughout.
"It's a hit all right," said somebody through the smoke.
"These near-'Raffles' plays always are," grumbled Willett, whoplayed bluff fathers in musical comedy. "A few years ago, they wouldhave been scared to death of putting on a show with a crook as hero.Now, it seems to me the public doesn't want anything else. Not thatthey know what they DO want," he concluded, mournfully.
"The Belle of Boulogne," in which Willett sustained the role ofCyrus K. Higgs, a Chicago millionaire, was slowly fading away on adiet of paper, and this possibly prejudiced him.
Raikes, the character actor, changed the subject. If Willett oncegot started on the wrongs of the ill-fated "Belle," generalconversation would become impossible. Willett, denouncing thestupidity of the public, as purely a monologue artiste.
"I saw Jimmy Pitt at the show," said Raikes. Everybody displayedinterest.
"Jimmy Pitt? When did he come back? I thought he was in Italy."
"He came on the Lusitania, I suppose. She docked this morning."
"Jimmy Pitt?" said Sutton, of the Majestic Theater. "How long has hebeen away? Last I saw of him was at the opening of 'The Outsider' atthe Astor. That's a couple of months ago."
"He's been traveling in Europe, I believe," said Raikes. "Luckybeggar to be able to. I wish I could."
Sutton knocked the ash off his cigar.
"I envy Jimmy," he said. "I don't know anyone I'd rather be. He'sgot much more money than any man except a professional 'plute' hasany right to. He's as strong as an ox. I shouldn't say he'd ever hadanything worse than measles in his life. He's got no relations. Andhe isn't married."
Sutton, who had been married three times, spoke with some feeling.
"He's a good chap, Jimmy," said Raikes.
"Yes," said Arthur Mifflin, "yes, Jimmy is a good chap. I've knownhim for years. I was at college with him. He hasn't got mybrilliance of intellect; but he has some wonderfully fine qualities.For one thing, I should say he had put more deadbeats on their legsagain than half the men in New York put together."
"Well," growled Willett, whom the misfortunes of the Belle hadsoured, "what's there in that? It's mighty easy to do thephilanthropist act when you're next door to a millionaire."
"Yes," said Mifflin warmly, "but it's not so easy when you'regetting thirty dollars a week on a newspaper. When Jimmy was areporter on the News, there used to be a whole crowd of fellows justliving on him. Not borrowing an occasional dollar, mind you, butliving on him--sleeping on his sofa, and staying to breakfast. Itmade me mad. I used to ask him why he stood for it. He said therewas nowhere else for them to go, and he thought he could see themthrough all right--which he did, though I don't see how he managedit on thirty a week."
"If a man's fool enough to be an easy mark--" began Willett.
"Oh, cut it out!" said Raikes. "We don't want anybody knocking Jimmyhere."
"All the same," said Sutton, "it seems to me that it was mightylucky that he came into that money. You can't keep open house forever on thirty a week. By the way, Arthur, how was that? I heard itwas his uncle."
"It wasn't his uncle," said Mifflin. "It was by way of being aromance of sorts, I believe. Fellow who had been in love withJimmy's mother years ago went West, made a pile, and left it to Mrs.Pitt or her children. She had been dead some time when thathappened. Jimmy, of course, hadn't a notion of what was coming tohim, when suddenly he got a solicitor's letter asking him to call.He rolled round, and found that there was about five hundredthousand dollars just waiting for him to spend it."
Jimmy Pitt had now definitely ousted "Love, the Cracksman" as atopic of conversation. Everybody present knew him. Most of them hadknown him in his newspaper days; and, though every man there wouldhave perished rather than admit it, they were grateful to Jimmy forbeing exactly the same to them now that he could sign a check forhalf a million as he had been on the old thirty-a-week basis.Inherited wealth, of course, does not make a young man nobler ormore admirable; but the young man does not always know this.
"Jimmy's had a queer life," said Mifflin. "He's been pretty mucheverything in his time. Did you know he was on the stage before hetook up newspaper-work? Only on the road, I believe. He got tired ofit, and cut it out. That's always been his trouble. He wouldn'tsettle down to anything. He studied law at Yale, but he never keptit up. After he left the stage, he moved all over the States,without a cent, picking up any odd job he could get. He was a waiteronce for a couple of days, but they fired him for breaking plates.Then, he got a job in a jeweler's shop. I believe he's a bit of anexpert on jewels. And, another time, he made a hundred dollars bystaying three rounds against Kid Brady when the Kid was touring thecountry after he got the championship away from Jimmy Garwin. TheKid was offering a hundred to anyone who could last three roundswith him. Jimmy did it on his head. He was the best amateur of hisweight I ever saw. The Kid wanted him to take up scrappingseriously. But Jimmy wouldn't have stuck to anything long enough inthose days. He's one of the gypsies of the world. He was neverreally happy unless he was on the move, and he doesn't seem to havealtered since he came into his money."
"Well, he can afford to keep on the move now," said Raikes. "I wishI--"
"Did you ever hear about Jimmy and--" Mifflin was beginning, whenthe Odyssey of Jimmy Pitt was interrupted by the opening of the doorand the entrance of Ulysses in person.
Jimmy Pitt was a young man of medium height, whose great breadth anddepth of chest made him look shorter t
han he really was. His jaw wassquare, and protruded slightly; and this, combined with a certainathletic jauntiness of carriage and a pair of piercing brown eyesvery much like those of a bull-terrier, gave him an air ofaggressiveness, which belied his character. He was not aggressive.He had the good-nature as well as the eyes of a bull-terrier. Also,he possessed, when stirred, all the bull-terrier's doggeddetermination.
There were shouts of welcome.
"Hullo, Jimmy!"
"When did you get back?"
"Come and sit down. Plenty of room over here."
"Where is my wandering boy tonight?"
"Waiter! What's yours, Jimmy?"
Jimmy dropped into a seat, and yawned.
"Well," he said, "how goes it? Hullo, Raikes! Weren't you at 'Love,the Cracksman'? I thought I saw you. Hullo, Arthur! Congratulateyou. You spoke your piece nicely."
"Thanks," said Mifflin. "We were just talking about you, Jimmy. Youcame on the Lusitania, I suppose?"
"She didn't break the record this time," said Sutton.
A somewhat pensive look came into Jimmy's eyes.
"She came much too quick for me," he said. "I don't see why theywant to rip along at that pace," he went on, hurriedly. "I like tohave a chance of enjoying the sea-air."
"I know that sea-air," murmured Mifflin.
Jimmy looked up quickly.
"What are you babbling about, Arthur?"
"I said nothing," replied Mifflin, suavely.
"What did you think of the show tonight, Jimmy?" asked Raikes.
"I liked it. Arthur was fine. I can't make out, though, why all thisincense is being burned at the feet of the cracksman. To judge bysome of the plays they produce now, you'd think that a man had onlyto be a successful burglar to become a national hero. One of thesedays, we shall have Arthur playing Charles Peace to a cheeringhouse."
"It is the tribute," said Mifflin, "that bone-headedness pays tobrains. It takes brains to be a successful cracksman. Unless thegray matter is surging about in your cerebrum, as in mine, you can'thope--"
Jimmy leaned back in his chair, and spoke calmly but with decision.
"Any man of ordinary intelligence," he said, "could break into ahouse."
Mifflin jumped up and began to gesticulate. This was heresy.
"My good man, what absolute--"
"_I_ could," said Jimmy, lighting a cigarette.
There was a roar of laughter and approval. For the past few weeks,during the rehearsals of "Love, the Cracksman," Arthur Mifflin haddisturbed the peace at the Strollers' with his theories on the artof burglary. This was his first really big part, and he had soakedhimself in it. He had read up the literature of burglary. He hadtalked with men from Pinkerton's. He had expounded his views nightlyto his brother Strollers, preaching the delicacy and difficulty ofcracking a crib till his audience had rebelled. It charmed theStrollers to find Jimmy, obviously of his own initiative and not tobe suspected of having been suborned to the task by themselves,treading with a firm foot on the expert's favorite corn within fiveminutes of their meeting.
"You!" said Arthur Mifflin, with scorn.
"I!"
"You! Why, you couldn't break into an egg unless it was a poachedone."
"What'll you bet?" said Jimmy.
The Strollers began to sit up and take notice. The magic word "bet,"when uttered in that room, had rarely failed to add a zest to life.They looked expectantly at Arthur Mifflin.
"Go to bed, Jimmy," said the portrayer of cracksmen. "I'll come withyou and tuck you in. A nice, strong cup of tea in the morning, andyou won't know there has ever been anything the matter with you."
A howl of disapproval rose from the company. Indignant voicesaccused Arthur Mifflin of having a yellow streak. Encouraging voicesurged him not to be a quitter.
"See! They scorn you," said Jimmy. "And rightly. Be a man, Arthur.What'll you bet?"
Mr. Mifflin regarded him with pity.
"You don't know what you're up against, Jimmy," he said. "You'rehalf a century behind the times. You have an idea that all a burglarneeds is a mask, a blue chin, and a dark lantern. I tell you herequires a highly specialized education. I've been talking to thesedetective fellows, and I know. Now, take your case, you worm. Haveyou a thorough knowledge of chemistry, physics, toxicology--"
"Sure."
"--electricity and microscopy?"
"You have discovered my secret."
"Can you use an oxy-acetylene blow-pipe?"
"I never travel without one."
"What do you know about the administration of anaesthetics?"
"Practically everything. It is one of my favorite hobbies."
"Can you make 'soup'?"
"Soup?"
"Soup," said Mr. Mifflin, firmly.
Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
"Does an architect make bricks?" he said. "I leave the roughpreliminary work to my corps of assistants. They make my soup."
"You mustn't think Jimmy's one of your common yeggs," said Sutton."He's at the top of his profession. That's how he made his money. Inever did believe that legacy story."
"Jimmy," said Mr. Mifflin, "couldn't crack a child's money-box.Jimmy couldn't open a sardine-tin."
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.
"What'll you bet?" he said again. "Come on, Arthur; you're earning avery good salary. What'll you bet?"
"Make it a dinner for all present," suggested Raikes, a canny personwho believed in turning the wayside happenings of life, whenpossible, to his personal profit.
The suggestion was well received.
"All right," said Mifflin. "How many of us are there? One, two,three, four--Loser buys a dinner for twelve."
"A good dinner," interpolated Raikes, softly.
"A good dinner," said Jimmy. "Very well. How long do you give me,Arthur?"
"How long do you want?"
"There ought to be a time-limit," said Raikes. "It seems to me thata flyer like Jimmy ought to be able to manage it at short notice.Why not tonight? Nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn't crack a cribtonight, it's up to him. That suit you, Jimmy?"
"Perfectly."
Willett interposed. Willett had been endeavoring to drown hissorrows all the evening, and the fact was a little noticeable in hisspeech.
"See here," he said, "how's J-Jimmy going to prove he's done it?"
"Personally, I can take his word," said Mifflin.
"That be h-hanged for a tale. Wha-what's to prevent him saying he'sdone it, whether he has or not?"
The Strollers looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it was Jimmy'saffair.
"Why, you'd get your dinner in any case," said Jimmy. "A dinner fromany host would smell as sweet."
Willett persisted with muddled obstinacy.
"Thash--thash not point. It's principle of thing. Have thish thingsquare and 'bove board, _I_ say. Thash what _I_ say."
"And very creditable to you being able to say it," said Jimmy,cordially. "See if you can manage 'Truly rural'."
"What _I_ say is--this! Jimmy's a fakir. And what I say is what'sprevent him saying he's done it when hasn't done it?"
"That'll be all right," said Jimmy. "I'm going to bury a brass tubewith the Stars and Stripes in it under the carpet."
Willett waved his hand.
"Thash quite sh'factory," he said, with dignity. "Nothing more tosay."
"Or a better idea," said Jimmy. "I'll carve a big J on the inside ofthe front door. Then, anybody who likes can make inquiries next day.Well, I'm off home. Glad it's all settled. Anybody coming my way?"
"Yes," said Arthur Mifflin. "We'll walk. First nights always make meas jumpy as a cat. If I don't walk my legs off, I shan't get tosleep tonight at all."
"If you think I'm going to help you walk your legs off, my lad,you're mistaken. I propose to stroll gently home, and go to bed."
"Every little helps," said Mifflin. "Come along."
"You want to keep an eye on Jimmy, Arthur," said Sutton. "He'llsand-bag you, and lift your watch as soon as look at y
ou. I believehe's Arsene Lupin in disguise."