Psmith, Journalist

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER XX

  CORNERED

  He stood in the doorway looking with some surprise at the groupinside. He was a smallish, pale-faced man with protruding eyes andteeth which gave him a certain resemblance to a rabbit.

  "Hello," he said.

  "Welcome to New York," said Psmith.

  Master Maloney, who had taken advantage of the interruption to edgefarther into the room, now appeared to consider the question of hisdeparture permanently shelved. He sidled to a corner and sat downon an empty soap-box with the air of a dramatic critic at theopening night of a new play. The scene looked good to him. Itpromised interesting developments. Master Maloney was an earneststudent of the drama, as exhibited in the theatres of the EastSide, and few had ever applauded the hero of "Escaped fromSing-Sing," or hissed the villain of "Nellie, the BeautifulCloak-Model" with more fervour than he. He liked his drama to haveplenty of action, and to his practised eye this one promised well.Psmith he looked upon as a quite amiable lunatic, from whom littlewas to be expected; but there was a set expression on BillyWindsor's face which suggested great things.

  His pleasure was abruptly quenched. Billy Windsor, placing a firmhand on his collar, led him to the door and pushed him out, closingthe door behind him.

  The rent collector watched these things with a puzzled eye. He nowturned to Psmith.

  "Say, seen anything of the wops that live here?" he inquired.

  "I am addressing--?" said Psmith courteously.

  "My name's Gooch."

  Psmith bowed.

  "Touching these wops, Comrade Gooch," he said, "I fear there islittle chance of your seeing them to-night, unless you wait someconsiderable time. With one of them--the son and heir of thefamily, I should say--we have just been having a highly interestingand informative chat. Comrade Maloney, who has just left us, actedas interpreter. The father, I am told, is in the dungeon below thecastle moat for a brief spell for punching his foreman in theeye. The result? The rent is not forthcoming."

  "Then it's outside for theirs," said Mr. Gooch definitely.

  "It's a big shame," broke in Billy, "turning the kid out. Where'she to go?"

  "That's up to him. Nothing to do with me. I'm only acting underorders from up top."

  "Whose orders, Comrade Gooch?" inquired Psmith.

  "The gent who owns this joint."

  "Who is he?" said Billy.

  Suspicion crept into the protruding eyes of the rent collector. Hewaxed wroth. "Say!" he demanded. "Who are you two guys, anyway, andwhat do you think you're doing here? That's what I'd like to know.What do you want with the name of the owner of this place? Whatbusiness is it of yours?"

  "The fact is, Comrade Gooch, we are newspaper men."

  "I guessed you were," said Mr. Gooch with triumph. "You can't bluffme. Well, it's no good, boys. I've nothing for you. You'd betterchase off and try something else."

  He became more friendly.

  "Say, though," he said, "I just guessed you were from somepaper. I wish I could give you a story, but I can't. I guessit's this _Cosy Moments_ business that's been and put your editoron to this joint, ain't it? Say, though, that's a queer thing,that paper. Why, only a few weeks ago it used to be a sort oftake-home-and-read-to-the-kids affair. A friend of mine usedto buy it regular. And then suddenly it comes out with aregular whoop, and started knocking these tenements andboosting Kid Brady, and all that. I can't understand it. All Iknow is that it's begun to get this place talked about. Why,you see for yourselves how it is. Here is your editor sendingyou down to get a story about it. But, say, those _Cosy Moments_guys are taking big risks. I tell you straight they are, andthat goes. I happen to know a thing or two about what's goingon on the other side, and I tell you there's going to besomething doing if they don't cut it out quick. Mr.--" hestopped and chuckled, "Mr. Jones isn't the man to sit still andsmile. He's going to get busy. Say, what paper do you boys comefrom?"

  "_Cosy Moments_, Comrade Gooch," Psmith replied. "Immediately behindyou, between you and the door, is Comrade Windsor, our editor. I amPsmith. I sub-edit."

  For a moment the inwardness of the information did not seem to comehome to Mr. Gooch. Then it hit him. He spun round. Billy Windsorwas standing with his back against the door and a more than nastylook on his face.

  "What's all this?" demanded Mr. Gooch.

  "I will explain all," said Psmith soothingly. "In the first place,however, this matter of Comrade Spaghetti's rent. Sooner than seethat friend of my boyhood slung out to do thewandering-child-in-the-snow act, I will brass up for him."

  "Confound his rent. Let me out."

  "Business before pleasure. How much is it? Twelve dollars? For theprivilege of suffocating in this compact little Black Hole? By myhalidom, Comrade Gooch, that gentleman whose name you are soshortly to tell us has a very fair idea of how to charge! But whoam I that I should criticise? Here are the simoleons, as our youngfriend, Comrade Maloney, would call them. Push me over a receipt."

  "Let me out."

  "Anon, gossip, anon.--Shakespeare. First, the receipt."

  Mr. Gooch scribbled a few words in his notebook and tore out thepage. Psmith thanked him.

  "I will see that it reaches Comrade Spaghetti," he said. "And nowto a more important matter. Don't put away that notebook. Turn toa clean page, moisten your pencil, and write as follows. Are youready? By the way, what is your Christian name? . . . Gooch, Gooch,this is no way to speak! Well, if you are sensitive on the point,we will waive the Christian name. It is my duty to tell you,however, that I suspect it to be Percy. Let us push on. Are youready, once more? Pencil moistened? Very well, then. 'I'--comma--'beingof sound mind and body'--comma--'and a bright little chapaltogether'--comma--Why, you're not writing."

  "Let me out," bellowed Mr. Gooch. "I'll summon you for assault andbattery. Playing a fool game like this! Get away from that door."

  "There has been no assault and battery yet, Comrade Gooch, but whoshall predict how long so happy a state of things will last? Do notbe deceived by our gay and smiling faces, Comrade Gooch. We meanbusiness. Let me put the whole position of affairs before you; andI am sure a man of your perception will see that there is only onething to be done."

  He dusted the only chair in the room with infinite care and satdown. Billy Windsor, who had not spoken a word or moved an inchsince the beginning of the interview, continued to stand and besilent. Mr. Gooch shuffled restlessly in the middle of the room.

  "As you justly observed a moment ago," said Psmith, "the staff of_Cosy Moments_ is taking big risks. We do not rely on yourunsupported word for that. We have had practical demonstration ofthe fact from one J. Repetto, who tried some few nights ago to putus out of business. Well, it struck us both that we had better gethold of the name of the blighter who runs these tenements asquickly as possible, before Comrade Repetto's next night out. Thatis what we should like you to give us, Comrade Gooch. And we shouldlike it in writing. And, on second thoughts, in ink. I have one ofthose patent non-leakable fountain pens in my pocket. The OldJournalist's Best Friend. Most of the ink has come out and ispermeating the lining of my coat, but I think there is stillsufficient for our needs. Remind me later, Comrade Gooch, tocontinue on the subject of fountain pens. I have much to say on thetheme. Meanwhile, however, business, business. That is the cry."

  He produced a pen and an old letter, the last page of which wasblank, and began to write.

  "How does this strike you?" he said. "'I'--(I have left a blankfor the Christian name: you can write it in yourself later)--'I,blank Gooch, being a collector of rents in Pleasant Street, NewYork, do hereby swear'--hush, Comrade Gooch, there is no need to doit yet--'that the name of the owner of the Pleasant Streettenements, who is responsible for the perfectly foul conditionsthere, is--' And that is where you come in, Comrade Gooch. That iswhere we need your specialised knowledge. Who is he?"

  Billy Windsor reached out and grabbed the rent collector by thecollar. Having done this, he proceeded to shake him.

  Billy was muscular
, and his heart was so much in the business thatMr. Gooch behaved as if he had been caught in a high wind. It isprobable that in another moment the desired information might havebeen shaken out of him, but before this could happen there was abanging at the door, followed by the entrance of Master Maloney.For the first time since Psmith had known him, Pugsy was openlyexcited.

  "Say," he began, "youse had better beat it quick, you had. Dey'scoming!"

  "And now go back to the beginning, Comrade Maloney," said Psmithpatiently, "which in the exuberance of the moment you have skipped.Who are coming?"

  "Why, dem. De guys."

  Psmith shook his head.

  "Your habit of omitting essentials, Comrade Maloney, is going toundo you one of these days. When you get to that ranch of yours,you will probably start out to gallop after the cattle withoutremembering to mount your mustang. There are four million guys inNew York. Which section is it that is coming?"

  "Gum! I don't know how many dere is ob dem. I seen Spider Reillyan' Jack Repetto an'--"

  "Say no more," said Psmith. "If Comrade Repetto is there, that isenough for me. I am going to get on the roof and pull it up afterme."

  Billy released Mr. Gooch, who fell, puffing, on to the low bed,which stood in one corner of the room.

  "They must have spotted us as we were coming here," he said, "andfollowed us. Where did you see them, Pugsy?"

  "On de Street just outside. Dere was a bunch of dem talkin'togedder, and I hears dem say you was in here. One of dem seen youcome in, an dere ain't no ways out but de front, so dey ain'thurryin'! Dey just reckon to pike along upstairs, lookin' into eachroom till dey finds you. An dere's a bunch of dem goin' to wait onde Street in case youse beat it past down de stairs while de udderguys is rubberin' for youse. Say, gents, it's pretty fierce, disproposition. What are youse goin' to do?"

  Mr. Gooch, from the bed, laughed unpleasantly.

  "I guess you ain't the only assault-and-battery artists in thebusiness," he said. "Looks to me as if some one else was going toget shaken up some."

  Billy looked at Psmith.

  "Well?" he said. "What shall we do? Go down and try and rushthrough?"

  Psmith shook his head.

  "Not so, Comrade Windsor, but about as much otherwise as you canjolly well imagine."

  "Well, what then?"

  "We will stay here. Or rather we will hop nimbly up on to the roofthrough that skylight. Once there, we may engage these varlets onfairly equal terms. They can only get through one at a time. Andwhile they are doing it I will give my celebrated imitation ofHoratius. We had better be moving. Our luggage, fortunately, issmall. Merely Comrade Gooch. If you will get through the skylight,I will pass him up to you."

  Mr. Gooch, with much verbal embroidery, stated that he would notgo. Psmith acted promptly. Gripping the struggling rent collectorround the waist, and ignoring his frantic kicks as mere errors intaste, he lifted him to the trap-door, whence the head, shouldersand arms of Billy Windsor protruded into the room. Billy collectedthe collector, and then Psmith turned to Pugsy.

  "Comrade Maloney."

  "Huh?"

  "Have I your ear?"

  "Huh?"

  "Are you listening till you feel that your ears are the size offootballs? Then drink this in. For weeks you have been praying fora chance to show your devotion to the great cause; or if youhaven't, you ought to have been. That chance has come. You alonecan save us. In a sense, of course, we do not need to be saved.They will find it hard to get at us, I fancy, on the roof. But itill befits the dignity of the editorial staff of a great New Yorkweekly to roost like pigeons for any length of time; andconsequently it is up to you."

  "Shall I go for de cops, Mr. Smith?"

  "No, Comrade Maloney, I thank you. I have seen the cops in action,and they did not impress me. We do not want allies who will merelyshake their heads at Comrade Repetto and the others, howeversternly. We want some one who will swoop down upon these merryroisterers, and, as it were, soak to them good. Do you know whereDude Dawson lives?"

  The light of intelligence began to shine in Master Maloney's face.His eye glistened with respectful approval. This was strategy ofthe right sort.

  "Dude Dawson? Nope. But I can ask around."

  "Do so, Comrade Maloney. And when found, tell him that his oldcollege chum, Spider Reilly, is here. He will not be able to comehimself, I fear, but he can send representatives."

  "Sure."

  "That's all, then. Go downstairs with a gay and jaunty air, as ifyou had no connection with the old firm at all. Whistle a fewlively bars. Make careless gestures. Thus shall you win through.And now it would be no bad idea, I fancy, for me to join the restof the brains of the paper up aloft. Off you go, Comrade Maloney.And, in passing, don't take a week about it. Leg it with all thespeed you possess."

  Pugsy vanished, and Psmith closed the door behind him. Inspectionrevealed the fact that it possessed no lock. As a barrier it wasuseless. He left it ajar, and, jumping up, gripped the edge of theopening in the roof and pulled himself through.

  Billy Windsor was seated comfortably on Mr. Gooch's chest a fewfeet away. By his side was his big stick. Psmith possessed himselfof this, and looked about him. The examination was satisfactory.The trap-door appeared to be the only means of access to the roof,and between their roof and that of the next house there was a broadgulf.

  "Practically impregnable," he murmured. "Only one thing can dishus, Comrade Windsor; and that is if they have the sense to get onto the roof next door and start shooting. Even in that case,however, we have cover in the shape of the chimneys. I think wemay fairly say that all is well. How are you getting along? Has thepatient responded at all?"

  "Not yet," said Billy. "But he's going to."

  "He will be in your charge. I must devote myself exclusively toguarding the bridge. It is a pity that the trap has not got a boltthis side. If it had, the thing would be a perfect picnic. As itis, we must leave it open. But we mustn't expect everything."

  Billy was about to speak, but Psmith suddenly held up his handwarningly. From the room below came a sound of feet.

  For a moment the silence was tense. Then from Mr. Gooch's lipsthere escaped a screech.

  "This way! They're up--"

  The words were cut short as Billy banged his hand over thespeaker's mouth. But the thing was done.

  "On top de roof," cried a voice. "Dey've beaten it for de roof."

  The chair rasped over the floor. Feet shuffled. And then, like ajack-in-the-box, there popped through the opening a head andshoulders.