Indiscretions of Archie - P. G. Wodehouse (essential books to read txt) 📗

you were back. You remember me, don’t you? Reggie van Tuyl. I know your sister very well. Archie, old man, I want you to meet my friend, Bill Brewster. Why, dash it!” He chuckled sleepily. “I was forgetting. Of course! He’s your⁠—”

“How are you?” said the young man. “Talking of my sister,” he said to Reggie, “I suppose you haven’t met her husband by any chance? I suppose you know she married some awful chump?”

“Me,” said Archie.

“How’s that?”

“I married your sister. My name’s Moffam.”

The young man seemed a trifle taken aback.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Not at all,” said Archie.

“I was only going by what my father said in his letters,” he explained, in extenuation.

Archie nodded.

“I’m afraid your jolly old father doesn’t appreciate me. But I’m hoping for the best. If I can rope in that rummy-looking little china thing that Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy is showing the customers, he will be all over me. I mean to say, you know, he’s got another like it, and, if he can get a full house, as it were, I’m given to understand he’ll be bucked, cheered, and even braced.”

The young man stared.

“Are you the fellow who’s been bidding against me?”

“Eh, what? Were you bidding against me?”

“I wanted to buy the thing for my father. I’ve a special reason for wanting to get in right with him just now. Are you buying it for him, too?”

“Absolutely. As a surprise. It was Lucille’s idea. His valet, a chappie named Parker, tipped us off that the thing was to be sold.”

“Parker? Great Scot! It was Parker who tipped me off. I met him on Broadway, and he told me about it.”

“Rummy he never mentioned it in his letter to me. Why, dash it, we could have got the thing for about two dollars if we had pooled our bids.”

“Well, we’d better pool them now, and extinguish that pill at the back there. I can’t go above eleven hundred. That’s all I’ve got.”

“I can’t go above eleven hundred myself.”

“There’s just one thing. I wish you’d let me be the one to hand the thing over to father. I’ve a special reason for wanting to make a hit with him.”

“Absolutely!” said Archie, magnanimously. “It’s all the same to me. I only wanted to get him generally braced, as it were, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s awfully good of you.”

“Not a bit, laddie, no, no, and far from it. Only too glad.”

Willie had returned from his rambles among the connoisseurs, and Pongo’s brother was back on his pedestal. The high priest cleared his throat and resumed his discourse.

“Now that you have all seen this superb figure we will⁠—I was offered one thousand⁠—one thousand-one-one-one-one⁠—eleven hundred. Thank you, sir. Eleven hundred I am offered.”

The high priest was now exuberant. You could see him doing figures in his head.

“You do the bidding,” said Brother Bill.

“Right-o!” said Archie.

He waved a defiant hand.

“Thirteen,” said the man at the back.

“Fourteen, dash it!”

“Fifteen!”

“Sixteen!”

“Seventeen!”

“Eighteen!”

“Nineteen!”

“Two thousand!”

The high priest did everything but sing. He radiated good will and bonhomie.

“Two thousand I am offered. Is there any advance on two thousand? Come, gentlemen, I don’t want to give this superb figure away. Twenty-one hundred. Twenty-one-one-one-one. This is more the sort of thing I have been accustomed to. When I was at Sotheby’s Rooms in London, this kind of bidding was a commonplace. Twenty-two-two-two-two-two. One hardly noticed it. Three-three-three. Twenty-three-three-three. Twenty-three hundred dollars I am offered.”

He gazed expectantly at Archie, as a man gazes at some favourite dog whom he calls upon to perform a trick. But Archie had reached the end of his tether. The hand that had twiddled so often and so bravely lay inert beside his trouser-leg, twitching feebly. Archie was through.

“Twenty-three hundred,” said the high priest, ingratiatingly.

Archie made no movement. There was a tense pause. The high priest gave a little sigh, like one waking from a beautiful dream.

“Twenty-three hundred,” he said. “Once twenty-three. Twice twenty-three. Third, last, and final call, twenty-three. Sold at twenty-three hundred. I congratulate you, sir, on a genuine bargain!”

Reggie van Tuyl had dozed off again. Archie tapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder.

“May as well be popping, what?”

They threaded their way sadly together through the crowd, and made for the street. They passed into Fifth Avenue without breaking the silence.

“Bally nuisance,” said Archie, at last.

“Rotten!”

“Wonder who that chappie was?”

“Some collector, probably.”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Archie.

Brother Bill attached himself to Archie’s arm, and became communicative.

“I didn’t want to mention it in front of van Tuyl,” he said, “because he’s such a talking-machine, and it would have been all over New York before dinnertime. But you’re one of the family, and you can keep a secret.”

“Absolutely! Silent tomb and whatnot.”

“The reason I wanted that darned thing was because I’ve just got engaged to a girl over in England, and I thought that, if I could hand my father that china figure-thing with one hand and break the news with the other, it might help a bit. She’s the most wonderful girl!”

“I’ll bet she is,” said Archie, cordially.

“The trouble is she’s in the chorus of one of the revues over there, and father is apt to kick. So I thought⁠—oh, well, it’s no good worrying now. Come along where it’s quiet, and I’ll tell you all about her.”

“That’ll be jolly,” said Archie.

XI Salvatore Chooses the Wrong Moment

Archie reclaimed the family jewellery from its temporary home next morning; and, having done so, sauntered back to the Cosmopolis. He was surprised, on entering the lobby, to meet his father-in-law. More surprising still, Mr. Brewster was manifestly in a mood of extraordinary geniality. Archie could hardly believe his eyes when the other waved cheerily to him⁠—nor his ears a moment later when Mr. Brewster, addressing him as “my boy,” asked him how he was and mentioned that the day was a warm one.

Obviously this jovial frame of mind must be taken advantage of; and Archie’s first thought was of the downtrodden Salvatore, to the tale of whose wrongs he had listened so sympathetically