" Ah I " said Constable Dobson. " Made him come over all funny." " Indeed ? " " Yes, sir. Sort of seemed to addle the brain." I endeavoured without undue brusqueness to convey to this man the idea that I did not consider one in the morning a suitable time for discussing his nephew's addled brain. " You must give me all the family medical gossip another day," I said. " At the moment, I wish to be alone." " Yes, sir. Good night, sir." " Good night. Sergeant." " If I might ask the question, sir, do you feel a sort of burning feeling about the temples ? " " I beg your pardon ? " " Does your head throb, sir ? "
" It's beginning to." " Ah I Well, good night, sir, again.' " Good night. Sergeant." " Good night, sir." " Good night. Constable." " Good night, sir." The door closed softly. I could hea them whispering for a moment or two, like a couple of specialists holding a conference outside the sick-room. Then they appeared to ooze off, for all became quiet save for the lapping of the waves on the shore. And, by Jove, so sedulouslydid these waves lap that gradually a
POLICE PERSECUTION IIQ drowsiness crept over me and not ten minutes after I had made up my mind that I should never get to sleep again in this world I was off as comfortably as a babe or suckling. It couldn't last, of course-not in a place like Chuffnell Regis, a hamlet containing more Nosey Parkers to the square foot than any other spot in England.
The next thing I remember is someone joggling my arm. I sat up. There was the good old lantern once more. " Now, listen ..." I was beginning, with a generous strength, when the words froze on my lips. The fellow who was joggling my arm was Chuffy.
Fhas been well said of Bertram Wooster that he is a man who is at all times glad to see his friends and can be relied upon to greet them with a cheery smile and a gay quip. But though in the main this is correct, I make one proviso-viz. that the conditions be right. On the present occasion they were not. When an old schoolmate's francee is roosting in your bed in a suit of your personal pyjamas, it is hard to frisk round this old schoolmate with any abandon when he suddenly appears in the immediate vicinity. I uttered, accordingly, no gay quip. I couldn't even manage the cheery smile. I just sat goggling at the man, wondering how he had got there, how long he proposed to remain, and what the chances were of Pauline Stoker suddenly shoving her head out of window and shouting to me to come and grapple with a mouse or something. Chuffy was bending over me with a sort of bedside manner. In the background I could see Sergeant Voules hovering with something of the air of a trained nurse. What had becomeof Constable Dobson, I did not know.
It seemed too jolly to think that he was dead, so I took it that he had returned to his beat. " It's all right, Bertie," said Chuffy soothingly.
" It's me, old man." " I found his lordship by the side of the barbour,"
explained the sergeant. I must say I chafed a bit. I saw what had happened. When you tear a lover of Chuffy's calibre from the girl of his heart, he does not just mix himself a final spot and turn in-he goes and stands beneath her window. And if she's on a yacht, anchored out in the middle of a harbour, this can only be done, of course, by infesting the water-front. All quite in order, no doubt, but in the present circs dashed inconvenient, to use the mildest term. And what was making me chafe was the thought that if only he had got to his parking place a bit earlier he would have been in a position to welcome the girl as she came ashore, thus obviating all the present awkwardness. " The sergeant was worried about you, Bertie. He seemed to think your manner was strange.
So he brought me along to have a look at you, Very sensible of you, Voules." " Thank you, m'lord." " A sound move." " Thank you, m'lord." "
You couldn't have done a wiser thing." " Thank you, m'lord." It was sickening to hear them.
" So you've got a touch of the sun, Bertie ? " " I have not got a touch of any bally sun." " Voules thought so." " Voules is an ass." The sergeant bridled somewhat. " Begging your pardon, sir, you informed me that your head throbbed, and I assumed that the brain was addled." "
Exactly. You must have gone slightly off your rocker, old chap," said Chuff y gently, " mustn't you ? To be sleeping out here, I mean, what ?
" " Why shouldn't I sleep out here ? " I saw Chuffy and the sergeant exchange glances. " But you've got a bedroom, old fellow. You've got a nice bedroom, haven't you ? I should have thought you would have found it so much snugger and jollier in your cosy little bedroom." The Woosters have all been pretty quick thinkers. I saw that I had got to make this move of mine seem plausible. " There's a spider in my bedroom." " A spider, eh ? Pink ? " " Pinkish." " With long legs ? " "
Fairly long legs." " And hairy, I shouldn't wonder ? " " Very hairy."
