The Intrusion of Jimmy Part 31

"Pots," he said, with some enthusiasm. "Pots. I tell you, if you'll stand in--"

"Bit risky, isn't it?"

"Not a bit of it. An occasional accident--"

"I suppose you'd call me one?"

Hargate grinned.

"It must be pretty tough work," said Jimmy. "You must have to use a tremendous lot of self-restraint."

Hargate sighed.

"That's the worst of it," he admitted, "the having to seem a mug at the game. I've been patronized sometimes by young fools, who thought they were teaching me, till I nearly forgot myself and showed them what real billiards was."

"There's always some drawback to the learned professions," said Jimmy.

"But there's a heap to make up for it in this one," said Hargate.

"Well, look here, is it a deal? You'll stand in--"

Jimmy shook his head.

"I guess not," he said. "It's good of you, but commercial speculation never was in my line. I'm afraid you must count me out of this."

"What! You're going to tell--?"

"No," said Jimmy, "I'm not. I'm not a vigilance committee. I won't tell a soul."

'"Why, then--" began Hargate, relieved.

"Unless, of course," Jimmy went on, "you play billiards again while you're here."

Hargate stared.

"But, d.a.m.n it, man, if I don't, what's the good--? Look here. What am I to do if they ask me to play?"

"Give your wrist as an excuse."

"My wrist?"

"Yes. You sprained it to-morrow after breakfast. It was bad luck. I wonder how you came to do it. You didn't sprain it much, but just enough to stop you playing billiards."

Hargate reflected.

"Understand?" said Jimmy.

"Oh, very well," said Hargate, sullenly. "But," he burst out, "if I ever get a chance to get even with you--"

"You won't," said Jimmy. "Dismiss the rosy dream. Get even! You don't know me. There's not a flaw in my armor. I'm a sort of modern edition of the stainless knight. Tennyson drew Galahad from me. I move through life with almost a sickening absence of sin. But hus.h.!.+

We are observed. At least, we shall be in another minute. Somebody is coming down the pa.s.sage. You do understand, don't you? Sprained wrist is the watchword."

The handle turned. It was Lord Dreever, back again, from his interview.

"Hullo, Dreever," said Jimmy. "We've missed you. Hargate has been doing his best to amuse me with acrobatic tricks. But you're too reckless, Hargate, old man. Mark my words, one of these days you'll be spraining your wrist. You should be more careful. What, going?

Good-night. Pleasant fellow, Hargate," he added, as the footsteps retreated down, the pa.s.sage. "Well, my lad, what's the matter with you? You look depressed."

Lord Dreever flung himself on to the lounge, and groaned hollowly.

"d.a.m.n! d.a.m.n!! d.a.m.n!!!" he observed.

His gla.s.sy eye met Jimmy's, and wandered away again.

"What on earth's the matter?" demanded Jimmy. "You go out of here caroling like a song-bird, and you come back moaning like a lost soul. What's happened?"

"Give me a brandy-and-soda, Pitt, old man. There's a good chap. I'm in a fearful hole."

"Why? What's the matter?"

"I'm engaged," groaned his lords.h.i.+p.

"Engaged! I wish you'd explain. What on earth's wrong with you?

Don't you want to be engaged? What's your--?"

He broke off, as a sudden, awful suspicion dawned upon him. "Who is she?" he cried.

He gripped the stricken peer's shoulder, and shook it savagely.

Unfortunately, he selected the precise moment when the latter was in the act of calming his quivering nerve-centers with a gulp of brandy-and-soda, and for the s.p.a.ce of some two minutes it seemed as if the engagement would be broken off by the premature extinction of the Dreever line. A long and painful fit of coughing, however, ended with his lords.h.i.+p still alive and on the road to recovery.

He eyed Jimmy reproachfully, but Jimmy was in no mood for apologies.

"Who is she?" he kept demanding. "What's her name?"

"Might have killed me!" grumbled the convalescent.

"Who is she?"

"What? Why, Miss McEachern."

Jimmy had known what the answer would be, but it was scarcely less of a shock for that reason.

"Miss McEachern?" he echoed.

Lord Dreever nodded a somber nod.

"You're engaged to her?"

Another somber nod.