Piccadilly Jim - P. G. Wodehouse (best romance ebooks TXT) 📗

“For the love of Mike!”

Jerry Mitchell, after an instant of stunned bewilderment, was looking at her with worshipping admiration. He had always known that Miss Ann possessed a mind of no common order, but this, he felt, was genius. For a moment the magnificence of the idea took his breath away.

“Do you mean that you’re going to kidnap him, Miss Ann?”

“Yes. That is to say, you are⁠—if I can persuade you to do it for me.”

“Sneak him away and send him to Bud Smithers’ dog-hospital?”

“For treatment. I like Mr. Smithers’ methods. I think they would do Ogden all the good in the world.”

Jerry was enthusiastic.

“Why, Bud would make him part-human. But, say, isn’t it taking big chances? Kidnapping’s a penitentiary offence.”

“This isn’t that sort of kidnapping.”

“Well, it’s mighty like it.”

“I don’t think you need be afraid of the penitentiary. I can’t see aunt Nesta prosecuting, when it would mean that she would have to charge us with having sent Ogden to a dogs’ hospital. She likes publicity, but it has to be the right kind of publicity. No, we do run a risk, but it isn’t that one. You run the risk of losing your job here, and I should certainly be sent to my grandmother for an indefinite sentence. You’ve never seen my grandmother, have you, Jerry? She’s the only person in the world I’m afraid of! She lives miles from anywhere and has family prayers at seven-thirty sharp every morning. Well, I’m ready to risk her, if you’re ready to risk your job, in such a good cause. You know you’re just as fond of uncle Peter as I am, and Ogden is worrying him into a breakdown. Surely you won’t refuse to help me, Jerry?”

Jerry rose and extended a calloused hand.

“When do we start?”

Ann shook the hand warmly.

“Thank you, Jerry. You’re a jewel. I envy Maggie. Well, I don’t think we can do anything till they come back from England, as aunt Nesta is sure to take Ogden with her.”

“Who’s going to England?”

“Uncle Peter and aunt Nesta were talking just now of sailing to try and persuade a young man named Crocker to come back here.”

“Crocker? Jimmy Crocker? Piccadilly Jim?”

“Yes. Why, do you know him?”

“I used to meet him sometimes when he was working on the Chronicle here. Looks as if he was cutting a wide swathe in dear old London. Did you see the paper today?”

“Yes, that’s what made aunt Nesta want to bring him over. Of course, there isn’t the remotest chance that she will be able to make him come. Why should he come?”

“Last time I saw Jimmy Crocker,” said Jerry, “it was a couple of years ago, when I went over to train Eddie Flynn for his go with Porky Jones at the National. I bumped into him at the N.S.C. He was a good deal tanked.”

“He’s always drinking, I believe.”

“He took me to supper at some swell joint where they all had the soup-and-fish on but me. I felt like a dirty deuce in a clean deck. He used to be a regular fellow, Jimmy Crocker, but from what you read in the papers it begins to look as if he was hitting it up too swift. It’s always the way with those boys when you take them off a steady job and let them run around loose with their jeans full of mazuma.”

“That’s exactly why I want to do something about Ogden. If he’s allowed to go on as he is at present, he will grow up exactly like Jimmy Crocker.”

“Aw, Jimmy Crocker ain’t in Ogden’s class,” protested Jerry.

“Yes, he is. There’s absolutely no difference between them.”

“Say! You’ve got it in for Jim, haven’t you, Miss Ann?” Jerry looked at her wonderingly. “What’s your kick against him?”

Ann bit her lip. “I object to him on principle,” she said. “I don’t like his type.⁠ ⁠… Well, I’m glad we’ve settled this about Ogden, Jerry. I knew I could rely on you. But I won’t let you do it for nothing. Uncle Peter shall give you something for it⁠—enough to start that health-farm you talk about so much. Then you can marry Maggie and live happily ever afterwards.”

“Gee! Is the boss in on this, too?”

“Not yet. I’m going to tell him now. Hush! There’s someone coming.”

Mr. Pett wandered in. He was still looking troubled.

“Oh, Ann⁠—good morning, Mitchell⁠—your aunt has decided to go to England. I want you to come, too.”

“You want me? To help interview Jimmy Crocker?”

“No, no. Just to come along and be company on the voyage. You’ll be such a help with Ogden, Ann. You can keep him in order. How you do it, I don’t know. You seem to make another boy of him.”

Ann stole a glance at Jerry, who answered with an encouraging grin. Ann was constrained to make her meaning plainer than by the language of the eye.

“Would you mind just running away for half a moment, Jerry?” she said winningly. “I want to say something to uncle Peter.”

“Sure. Sure.”

Ann turned to Mr. Pett as the door closed.

“You’d like somebody to make Ogden a different boy, wouldn’t you, uncle Peter?”

“I wish it was possible.”

“He’s been worrying you a lot lately, hasn’t he?” asked Ann sympathetically.

“Yes,” sighed Mr. Pett.

“Then that’s all right,” said Ann briskly. “I was afraid that you might not approve. But, if you do, I’ll go right ahead.”

Mr. Pett started violently. There was something in Ann’s voice and, as he looked at her, something in her face which made him fear the worst. Her eyes were flashing with an inspired light of a highly belligerent nature, and the sun turned the red hair to which she owed her deplorable want of balance to a mass of flame. There was something in the air. Mr. Pett sensed it with every nerve of his apprehensive person. He gazed at Ann, and as he did so the years seemed to slip from him and he was a boy again, about to be urged to lawless courses by the superior will