November 19, 2025 • 41 mins
Join the absent-minded Earl of Emsworth as he inadvertently misplaces the pride of his scarab collection! American millionaire J. Preston Peters is offering a hefty $5000 reward for its safe return, but discretion is key—especially since Peters daughter is engaged to Emsworths son. Enter Joan Valentine and Ashe Marson, each determined to claim the reward; she as Aline Peters’ ladies maid and he as Mr. Peters’ valet. Their quest leads them to the grand Blandings Castle, where the ever-watchful Efficient Baxter poses a formidable challenge. This delightful caper is, in my humble opinion, one of Wodehouse’s most hilarious works. –Debra Lynn
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Speaker 1 (00:02):
Chapter nine of Something New. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Something
New by P. G. Woodhouse, Chapter nine. As we grow
(00:22):
older and realize more clearly the limitations of human happiness,
we come to see that the only real and abiding
pleasure in life is to give pleasure to other people.
One must assume that the efficient Baxter had not reached
the age when this comes home to a man. For
the fact that he had given genuine pleasure to some
dozens of his fellow men brought him no balm. There
(00:45):
was no doubt about the pleasure he had given. Once
they had got over their disappointment at finding that he
was not a dead burglar, the house party rejoiced wholeheartedly
at the break in the monotony of life at Blandings Castle.
Relations who had not been on speaking terms for years,
forgot their quarrels and strolled about the grounds in perfect harmony,
abusing Baxter. The general verdict was that he was insane.
(01:10):
Don't tell me that, young Fellow's all there, said Colonel
Horace Mant, because I know better have you noticed his
eye furtive, shifty, nasty gleam in it? Besides dash it?
Did you happen to take a look at the hall
last night after he had been there? It was in ruins,
my dear sir, absolute dashed ruins. It was positively littered
(01:31):
with broken china and tables that had been bowled over.
Don't tell me that was just an accidental collision in
the dark, My dear sir. The man must have been
thrashing about, absolutely thrashing about like a dashed salmon on
a dashed look. He must have had a paroxysm of
some kind, some kind of a dashed fit. A doctor
could give you the name for it. It's a well
(01:52):
known form of insanity. Paranoia, isn't that what they call it?
Rush of blood to the head, followed by a general
running a mock. I've heard fellows who have been in
India talk of it. Natives get it, don't know what
they're doing, and charged through the streets taking cracks at
people with dashed, whacking great knives. Same with this young man,
probably in a modified form at present. He ought to
(02:14):
be in a home one of these knights. If this
grows on him, he will be massacring Emsworth in his bed.
My dear Horace, the Bishop of Godalming's voice was properly
horror stricken, but there was a certain unctuous relish in it.
Take my word for it, though, mind you, I don't
say they aren't well suited. Every one knows that Elmsworth
has been, to all practical intents and purposes, a dashed
(02:36):
lunatic for years.
Speaker 2 (02:37):
What was it that young.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
Fellow Emerson, Freddy's American friend was saying the other day
about some acquaintance of his who was not quite right
in the head. Nobody in the house is that it?
Something to that effect? At any rate, I felt at
the time it was a perfect description of Elmsworth, My
dear Horace, your father in law, the head of the family,
a dashed lunatic, my dear sir, head of the family,
(03:00):
or no head of the family. A man as absent
minded as he is, has no right to call himself sane.
Nobody in the house, I recollect it now, Nobody in
the house except gas and that has not been turned on.
That's Elmsworth. The efficient Baxter, who had just left his presence,
was feeling much the same about his noble employer. After
(03:22):
a sleepless night, he had begun at an early hour
to try and corner Lord Emsworth in order to explain
to him the true inwardness of last night's happenings. Eventually,
he had tracked him to the museum, where he found
him happily engaged in painting a cabinet of birds eggs.
Speaker 2 (03:39):
He was seated on.
Speaker 1 (03:40):
A small stool, a large pot of red paint on
the floor beside him, dabbing at the cabinet with a
dripping brush. He was absorbed and made no attempt whatever
to follow his secretary's remarks. For ten minutes, Baxter gave
a vivid picture of his vigil and the manner in
which it had been interrupted. Just so, oh, just so,
(04:00):
my dear fellow, said the Earl when he had finished.
Speaker 2 (04:02):
I quite understand.
Speaker 1 (04:04):
All I say is, if you do require additional food
in the night, let one of the servants bring it
to your room before bedtime. Then there will be no
danger of these disturbances. There is no possible objection to
your eating a hundred meals a day, my good Baxter,
provided you do not rouse the whole house over them.
Some of us like to sleep during the night. But
Lord Elmsworth, I have just explained it was not I
(04:27):
was not. Never mind, my dear fellow. Never mind, Why
make such an important thing of it. Many people like
a light snack before actually retiring. Doctors, I believe, sometimes
recommend it. Tell me, Baxter, how do you think the
museum looks now? A little brighter? Better for the dash
of color?
Speaker 2 (04:44):
I think so.
Speaker 1 (04:45):
Museums are generally such gloomy places, Lord Elmsworth, May I
explain once again? The Earl looked annoyed, My dear Baxter.
I have told you that there is nothing to explain.
You are getting a little tedious. What a deep re
which read this is? And how clean new paint smells?
Do you know, Baxter, I have been longing to mess
about with paint ever since I was a boy. I
(05:07):
recollect my old father beating me with a walking stick.
That would be before your time.
Speaker 2 (05:11):
Of course.
Speaker 1 (05:12):
By the way, if you see Freddy, will you tell
him I want to speak to him. He probably is
in the smoking room. Send him to me here. It
was an overwrought Baxter who delivered the message to the
honorable Freddy, who, as predicted, was in the smoking room.
Lounging in a deep arm chair. There are times when
life presses hard on a man, and it pressed hard
(05:33):
on Baxter. Now all fate had played him a sorry trick.
It had put him in a position where he had
to choose between two courses, each as disagreeable as the other.
He must either face a possible second fiasco like that
of last night, or else he must abandon his post
and cease to mount guard over his threatened treasure. His
(05:55):
imagination quailed at the thought of a repetition of last
night's horrors. He had been badly shaken by his collision
with the table, and even more so by the events
that had followed it. Those revolver shots still rang in
his ears. It was probably the memory of those shots
that turned the scale. It was unlikely he would again
become entangled with a man bearing a tongue and the
(06:17):
other things he had given up in despair the attempt
to unravel the mystery of the tongue. It completely baffled him,
But it was by no means unlikely that if he
spent another night in the gallery looking on the hall,
he might not again become a target for Lord Emsworth's
irresponsible firearm. Nothing, in fact was more likely, for in
the disturbed state of the public mind, the slightest sound
(06:39):
after nightfall would be sufficient cause for a fusillade. He
had actually overheard young Algernon Worcester telling Lord stock Heath
he had a jolly good mind to sit on the
stairs that night with a shotgun, because it was his
opinion that there was a jolly sight more in this
business than there seemed to be. And what he thought
of the Bally affair was that there was a gang
of some kind of work, and that that Feller what's
(07:02):
his name, that Feller Baxter was some sort of an accomplice.
Speaker 2 (07:06):
With these things.
Speaker 1 (07:07):
In his mind, Baxter decided to remain that night in
the security of his bedroom. He had lost his nerve.
He formed this decision with the utmost reluctance, for the
thought of leaving the road to the museum clear for
marauders was bitter in the extreme. If he could have
overheard a conversation between Joan Valentine and Ashmarson, it is
(07:27):
probable he would have risked Lord Emsworth's revolver and the
shotgun of the Honorable Algernon Worcester. Ash when he met Joan,
and recounted the events of the night at which Joan,
who was a sound sleeper, had not been present, was
inclined to blame himself as a failure. True fate had
been against him, but the fact remained that he had
(07:48):
achieved nothing. Joan, however, was not of this opinion. You
have done wonders, she said, you have cleared the way
for me. That is my idea of real team work.
I'm so glad now that we formed our partnership. It
would have been too bad if I had got all
the advantage of your work and had jumped in and
deprived you of the reward. As it is, I shall
(08:09):
go down and finish the thing off tonight with a
clear conscience. You can't mean that you dream of going
down to the museum tonight. Of course I do, but
it's madness. On the contrary, Tonight is the one night
when there ought to be no risk at all after
what happened last night. Because of what happened last night,
(08:30):
do you imagine mister Baxter will dare to stir.
Speaker 2 (08:33):
From his bed after that?
Speaker 1 (08:35):
If ever there was a chance of getting this thing finished,
it will be tonight.
Speaker 2 (08:39):
You're quite right.
Speaker 1 (08:40):
I never looked at it that way, Baxter wouldn't risk
a second disaster. I'll certainly make a successive. At this time,
Joan raised her eyebrows. I don't quite understand you, mister Marson.
Do you propose to try to get the scare up tonight?
Speaker 2 (08:54):
Yes?
Speaker 1 (08:55):
It will be as easy as are you forgetting that
by the terms of our agreement, it is my You
surely don't intend to hold me to that.
Speaker 2 (09:04):
Certainly I do.
Speaker 1 (09:06):
But good Heavens, consider my position. Do you seriously expect
me to lie in bed while you do all the work,
and then to take a half share in the reward
I do. It's ridiculous. It's no more ridiculous than that
I should do the same, mister Marson. There's no use
in our going over all this again. We settled it
long ago. Joan refused to discuss the matter further, leaving
(09:28):
ashe in a condition of anxious misery comparable only to
that which, as night began to draw near gnawed the
vitals of the efficient Baxter. Breakfast at Blanding's Castle.
Speaker 2 (09:40):
Was an informal meal.
Speaker 1 (09:43):
There was food and drink in the long dining hall,
for such as were energetic enough to come down and
get it. But the majority of the house party breakfasted
in their rooms. Lord Emsworth, whom nothing in the world
would have induced to begin the day in the company
of a crowd of his relations, most of whom he disliked,
setting them the example. When therefore, Baxter, yielding to nature,
(10:05):
after having remained awake until the early morning, fell asleep
at nine o'clock. Nobody came to rouse him. He did
not ring his bell, so he was not disturbed, and
he slept on until half past eleven, by which time
it being Sunday morning, and the house party, including one
bishop and several of the minor clergy, most of the
(10:25):
occupants of the place had gone off to church. Baxter
shaved and dressed hastily, for he was in a state
of nervous apprehension. He blamed himself for having lain in
bed so long, when every minute he was away might
mean the loss of the scarab. He had passed several
hours in dreamy sloth. He had wakened with a presentiment.
Something told him the scaab had been stolen in the night,
(10:48):
and he wished now that he had risked all and
kept guard. The house was very quiet, as he made
his way rapidly to the hall. As he passed a window,
he perceived Lord Emsworth in an unset libertarian suit of
tweeds and bearing a garden fork, which must have pained
the Bishop bending earnestly over a flower bed. But he
(11:08):
was the only occupant of the grounds and indoors. There
was a feeling of emptiness. The hall had that Sunday
morning air of wanting to be left to itself and
disapproving of the entry of anything human until lunch time,
which can be felt only by a guest in a
large house who remains at home when his fellows have
gone to church. The portraits on the walls, especially the
(11:31):
one of the Countess of Elmsworth and the character of
Venus rising from the sea, stared at Baxter as he
entered with cold reproof. The very chairs seemed distant and unfriendly,
but Baxter was in no mood to appreciate their attitude.
His conscience slept, his mind was occupied to the exclusion
of all other things, by the scarab and its probable fate.
(11:54):
How disastrously remiss it had been of him not to
keep guard last night. Long before he opened the museum door,
he was feeling the absolute certainty that the worst had happened.
It had The card which announced that here was an
Egyptian scaab of the reign of Cheops of the Fourth Dynasty,
presented by J. Preston Peters Esquire still lay on the
(12:15):
cabinet in its wonted place, but now its neat lettering
was false and misleading. The scareb was gone. For all
that he had expected, this, for all his premonition of disaster.
It was an appreciable time before the efficient Baxter rallied
from the blow. He stood transfixed, goggling at the empty place.
(12:37):
Then his mind resumed its functions. All he perceived was
not yet lost. Baxter the Watchdog must retire to be
succeeded by Baxter the sleuth Hound. He had been unable
to prevent the theft of the scarab, but he might
still detect the thief. For the doctor Watson's of this world,
as opposed to the Sherlock Holmeses, success in the Robinson
(13:00):
detective work, must always be, to a very large extent
the result of luck. Sherlock Holmes can extract a clue
from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash.
But doctor Watson has to have it taken out for
him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label attached.
The average man is a doctor Watson. We are wont
(13:21):
to scoff in a patronizing manner at that humble follower
of the great investigator. But as a matter of fact
we should have been just as dull ourselves. We should
not even have risen to the modest height of a
Scotland yard bungler. Baxter was a doctor Watson. What he
wanted was a clue. But it is so hard for
the novice to tell what is a clue and what
(13:41):
is not. And then he happened to look down, and
there on the floor was a clue that nobody could
have overlooked. Baxter saw it, but did not immediately recognize
it for what it was.
Speaker 2 (13:53):
What he saw at.
Speaker 1 (13:54):
First was not a clue, but just a mess. He
had a tidy soul and uphoard messes, and this was
a particularly messy mess. A considerable portion of the floor
was a sea of red paint. The can from which
it had flowed was lying on its side near the wall.
He had noticed that the smell of paint had seemed
(14:14):
particularly pungent, but had attributed this to a new freshet
of energy on the part of Lord Emsworth. He had
not perceived that paint had been spilled. Pah, said Baxter.
Then suddenly, beneath the disguise of the mess he saw
the clew a footmark, no less a crimson footmark on
(14:35):
the polished wood. It was as clear and distinct as
though it had been left there for the purpose of
assisting him. It was a feminine footmark, the print of
a slim and pointed shoe. This perplexed Baxter. He had
looked on the siege of the Scarab as an exclusively
male affair, but he was not perplexed long What could
(14:56):
be simpler than that mister Peters should have enlisted female aide.
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Probably she makes a better purloiner of Scarabs at any rate.
There the footprint was unmistakably feminine. Inspiration came to him,
Aleen Peters had a maid. What more likely than that,
(15:17):
secretly she should be a hiring of mister Peters, on
whom he had now come to look as a man
of the blackest and most sinister character. Mister Peters was
a collector, and when a collector makes up his mind
to secure a treasure, he employs. Baxter knew every possible
means to that end. Baxter was now in a state
of great excitement. He was hot on the scent, and
(15:39):
his brain was working like a buzz saw in an
ice box. According to his reasoning, if Aleen Peter's maid
had done this thing, there should be red paint in
the hall marking her retreat, and possibly a faint stain
on the stairs leading to the servant's bedrooms. He hastened
from the museum and subjected the hall to a keen scrutiny. Yes,
(16:02):
there was red paint on the carpet. He passed through
the green Bay's door and examined the stairs. On the
bottom step there was a faint but conclusive stain of Crimson.
He was wondering how best to follow up this clue
when he perceived Ash coming down the stairs. Ash, like Baxter,
and as the result of a night disturbed by anxious thoughts,
(16:24):
had also overslept himself. There are moments when the giddy
excitement of being right on the trail causes the amateur
or Watsonian detective to be incautious. If Baxter had been wise,
he would have achieved his object the getting a glimpse
of Joan's shoes, by a devious and snaky route. As
(16:44):
it was, zeal getting the better of prudence, He rushed
straight on. His early suspicion of Ash had been temporarily obscured.
Whatever Ash's claims to be a suspect, it had not
been his footprint Baxter had seen in the museum. Hear you,
said the efficient Baxter excitedly, Sir, the shoes. I beg
(17:06):
your pardon. I wish to see the servant's shoes. Where
are they? I expect they have them on, sir, yesterday's shoes. Man,
yesterday's shoes.
Speaker 2 (17:16):
Where are they?
Speaker 1 (17:17):
Where are the shoes of yester year?
Speaker 2 (17:20):
Murmured Ash.
Speaker 1 (17:21):
I should say at adventure, Sir, that they would be
in a large basket somewhere near the kitchen. Our genial
knife and shoe boy collects them.
Speaker 2 (17:29):
I believe at early dawn.
Speaker 1 (17:31):
Would they have been cleaned yet? If I know the
lad Sir, no, go and bring that basket to me.
Bring it to me in this room.
Speaker 2 (17:42):
The room to.
Speaker 1 (17:42):
Which he referred was none other than the private sanctum
of mister Beach, the butler, the door of which standing
open showed it to be empty. It was not Baxter's plan.
Excited as he was to risk being discovered sifting shoes
in the middle of a passage in the servants quarters,
Ashes bring Pane was working rapidly as he made for
the shoe cupboard, that little den of darkness and smells
(18:05):
where Billy the knife and shoe boy, better known in
the circle in which he moved as young Bonehead pursued
his menial tasks.
Speaker 2 (18:13):
What exactly was at the back of.
Speaker 1 (18:14):
The Efficient Baxter's mind prompting these maneuvers, he did not know,
but that there was something he was certain. He had
not yet seen Joan this morning, and he did not
know whether or not she had carried out her resolve
of attempting to steal the scab on the previous night.
But this activity and mystery on the part of their
enemy must have some sinister significance. He gathered up the
(18:37):
shoe basket thoughtfully. He staggered back with it and dumped
it down on the floor of mister Beech's room. The
Efficient Baxter stooped eagerly over it. Ash leaning against the wall,
straightened the creases in his clothes, and flicked disgustedly at
an inky spot which the journey had transferred from the
basket to his coat. We have here, sir, he said,
(18:59):
a fair selection of our various foot coverings. You did
not drop any on your way, not one, sir. The
efficient Baxter uttered a grunt of satisfaction, and bent once
more to his task.
Speaker 2 (19:12):
Shoes flew about the room.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
Baxter knelt on the floor beside the basket and dug
like a terrier at a rat hole. At last he
made a find, and with an exclamation of triumph, rose
to his feet. In his hand he held a shoe.
Put those back, he said, ash began to pick up
the scattered foot gear. That's the lot, sir, he said, rising,
(19:36):
Now come with me. Leave the basket there. You can
carry it back when you return. Shall I put back that.
Speaker 2 (19:41):
Shoe, sir? Certainly not. I shall take this one with me.
Shall I carry it for you? Sir?
Speaker 1 (19:48):
Baxter reflected, yes, I think that would be best. Trouble
had shaken his nerve. He was not certain that there
might not be others besides Lord Emsworth in the garden.
When it occurred to him that, especially after his reputation
for eccentric conduct had been so firmly established by his
misfortunes that night in the hall, it might cause comments
(20:10):
should he appear before them carrying a shoe. Ash took
the shoe, and doing so understood what before had puzzled him.
Across the toe was a broad splash of red paint.
Though he had nothing else to go on, he saw
all the shoe he held was.
Speaker 2 (20:27):
A female shoe.
Speaker 1 (20:28):
His own researches in the museum had made him aware
of the presence there of red paint. It was not
difficult to build up on these data a pretty accurate
estimate of the position of affairs. Come with me, said Baxter.
He left the room. Ashe followed him in the garden
Lord elmsworth Garden, fork in hand, was dealing summarily with
(20:50):
a green young weed that had incautiously shone its head
in the middle of a flower bed. He listened to
Baxter's statement with more interest than he usually shu in
anybody's statements. He resented the loss of the scarab, not
so much on account of its intrinsic worth as because
it had been the gift of his friend mister Peters. Indeed,
(21:11):
he said, when Baxter had finished, Really, dear me, it
certainly seems it is extremely suggestive. You are certain there
was red paint on this shoe. I have it with me.
I brought it on purpose to show you. He looked
at Ash, who stood in close attendance the shoe. Lord
Emsworth polished his glasses and bent over the exhibit. Ah,
(21:34):
he said, now let me look at this. You say,
is the just so, just so? Just my dear Baxter.
It may be that I have not examined this shoe
with sufficient care, But can you point out to me
exactly where this paint is that you speak of? The
Efficient Baxter stood staring at the shoe with wild fixed stare.
(21:57):
Of any suspicion of paint red or otherwise, it was
absolutely and entirely innocent. The shoe became the center of attraction,
the center of all eyes. The Efficient Baxter fixed it
with the piercing glare of one who feels that his
brain is tottering. Lord Elmsworth looked at it with a
mildly puzzled expression. Ash Marson examined it with a sort
(22:20):
of affectionate interest, as though he were waiting for it
to do a trick of some kind. Baxter was the
first to break the silence. There was paint on this shoe,
he said, vehemently. I tell you there was a splash
of red paint across the toe. This man here will
bear me out in this. You saw paint on this shoe.
Speaker 2 (22:40):
Paint, sir?
Speaker 1 (22:41):
What do you mean to tell me you did not
see it? No, sir, there was no paint on this shoe.
This is ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes.
It was a broad splash right across the toe. Lord
Emsworth interposed, you must have made a mistake, my dear Baxter.
There was, sir, no trace of paint on this shoe.
(23:02):
These momentary, optical delusions are, I fancy not uncommon. Any
doctor will tell you I had an aunt, Your lordship,
said ashe Chatterley, who was remarkably subject. It is absurd.
I cannot have been mistaken, said Baxter. I am positively
certain the toe of this shoe was red when I
found it. It is quite black now, my dear Baxter,
(23:25):
sort of chameleon shoe, murmured ash. The goaded secretary turned
on him.
Speaker 2 (23:30):
What did you say? Nothing?
Speaker 1 (23:32):
Sir Baxter's old suspicion of this smooth young man came
surging back to him. I strongly suspect you of having
had something to do with this, Really, Baxter, said the earl.
That is surely the least probable of solutions. This young
man could hardly have cleaned the shoe. On his way
from the house. A few days ago, when painting in
(23:54):
the museum, I inadvertently splashed some paint on.
Speaker 2 (23:57):
My own shoe.
Speaker 1 (23:58):
I can assure you it does not brush. It needs
a very systematic cleaning before all traces are removed. Exactly,
your lordship said ashe. My theory, if I may, yes,
My theory, your Lordship, is that mister Baxter was deceived
by the light and shade effects on the toe of
the shoe. The morning sun streaming in through the window
(24:19):
must have shone on the shoe in such a manner
as to give it a momentary and fictitious aspect of redness.
If mister Baxter recollects he did not look long at
the shoe, The picture on the retina of the eye
consequently had not time to fade. I myself remember thinking
at the moment that the shoe appeared to have a
certain reddish tint. The mistake, bah, said Baxter.
Speaker 2 (24:42):
Shortly.
Speaker 1 (24:44):
Lord Emsworth, now thoroughly bored with the whole affair, in
desiring nothing more than to be left alone with his
weeds and his garden fork, put in his word, Baxter,
he felt was curiously irritating these days. He always seemed
to be bobbing up. The Earl of EM's Worth was
conscious of a strong desire to be free from his
secretary's company. He was efficient, yes, invaluable. Indeed, he did
(25:08):
not know what he should do without Baxter, but there
was no denying that his company tended, after a while
to become a trifle tedious. He took a fresh grip
on his garden fork and shifted it about in the air,
as a hint that the interview had lasted long enough.
It seems to me, my dear fellow, he said, the
only explanation that was square with the facts. A shoe
(25:29):
that is really smeared with red paint does not become
black of itself in the course of a few minutes.
You are very right, your lordship, said, ashe approvingly. May
I go now, your lordship, certainly, certainly, by all means,
Shall I take the shoe with me, your lordship, if
you do not want it. Baxter, the secretary, passed a
(25:51):
fraudulent piece of evidence to Ash without a word, and
the latter, having included both gentlemen in a kindly smile,
left the garden. On returning to the butler's room, Ash's
first act was to remove a shoe from the top
of the pile in the basket.
Speaker 2 (26:06):
He was about to.
Speaker 1 (26:07):
Leave the room with it when the sound of footsteps
in the passage outside halted him. I do not in
the least understand why you wish me to come here,
my dear Baxter, said a voice, And you are completely
spoiling my mourning. But for a moment, ashe was at
a loss, it was a crisis that called for swift action,
and it was a little hard to know exactly.
Speaker 2 (26:28):
What to do.
Speaker 1 (26:30):
It had been his intention to carry the paint splashed
shoe back to his own room, there to clean it
at his leisure, But it appeared that this strategic line
of retreat was blocked plainly the possibility, nay the certainty
that ashe had substituted another shoe for the one with
the incriminating splash of paint on it had occurred to
the efficient Baxter, almost directly the former had left the garden.
(26:53):
The window was open. Ash looked out. There were bushes below.
It was a makeshift pole, and one which did not
commend itself to him as the ideal method, but it
seemed the only thing to be done, for already the
footsteps had reached the door.
Speaker 2 (27:09):
He threw the.
Speaker 1 (27:10):
Shoe out of window, and it sank beneath the friendly
surface of the long grass round a wistaria bush. Ash
turned relieved, and the next moment the door opened and
Baxter walked in, accompanied with obvious reluctance by his bored employer.
Baxter was brisk and peremptory. I wish to look at
(27:31):
those shoes again, he said coldly. Certainly, sir, said Ash,
I can manage without your assistance.
Speaker 2 (27:37):
Said Baxter. Very good, Sir.
Speaker 1 (27:41):
Leaning against the wall, Ash watched him with silent interest
as he burrowed among the contents of the basket like
a terrier digging for rats. The Earl of Emsworth took
no notice of the proceedings. He yawned plaintively and pottered
about the room. He was one of nature's potterers. The
scrutiny of the man whom he had no placed definitely
(28:01):
as a malefactor irritated Baxter. As was looking at him
in an insufferably tolerant manner, as if he were an
indulgent father brooding over his infant son while engaged in
some childish frolic. He lodged a protest. Don't stand there
staring at me. I was interested in what you were doing, sir,
(28:21):
Never mind, don't stare at me in that idiotic way.
May I read a book, sir? Yes, read if you like.
Thank you, sir, As took a volume from the butler's
slenderly stocked shelf. The shoe expert resumed his investigations in
the basket. He went through it twice, but each time
without success. After the second search, he stood up and
(28:44):
looked wildly about the room. He was as certain as
he could be of anything, that the missing piece of
evidence was somewhere within those four walls. There was very
little cover in the room, even for so small a
fugitive as a shoe. He raised the tablecloth and peered
beneath the table. Are you looking for, mister beach, sir,
(29:04):
said ash, I think he is going to church, Baxter pink,
with his exertions fastened a baleful glance upon him. You
had better be careful, he said. At this point, the
Earl of Emsworth, having done all the pottering possible in
the restricted area, yawned like an alligator. Now, my dear Baxter,
(29:25):
he began querulously. Baxter was not listening. He was on
the trail. He had caught sight of a small closet
in the wall next to the mantelpiece, and it had
stimulated him. What is in this closet? That closet, sir, Yes,
this closet. He rapped the door irritably. I could not say, sir,
(29:48):
mister Beach, to whom the closet belongs, possibly keeps a
few odd trifles there, a ball of string, perhaps, maybe
an old pipe or something of that kind, Probably nothing
of value or interest. Open it.
Speaker 2 (30:01):
It appears to be locked, sir. Unlock it? But where
is the key?
Speaker 1 (30:07):
Baxter thought for a moment, Lord Elmsworth, He said, I
have my reasons for thinking that this man is deliberately
keeping the contents of this closet for me. I am
convinced that the shoe is in there. Have I your
leave to break open the door. The earl looked a
little dazed, as if he were unequal to the intellectual
pressure of the conversation. Now, my dear Baxter, said the
(30:30):
earl impatiently, Please tell me once again why you have
brought me in here. I cannot make head or tail
of what you have been saying. Apparently you accuse this
young man of keeping his shoes in a closet. Why
should you suspect him of keeping his shoes in a closet,
And if he wishes to do so, why on earth
should he not keep his shoes in a closet. This
is a free country, exactly, your lordship, said ash approvingly.
(30:53):
You have touched the spot. It all has to do
with the theft of your scare of Lord Emsworth. But
he got into the museum and stole the scaub. Ah yes, ah, yes,
so they did. I remember now you told me bad
business that, my dear Baxter. Mister Peters gave me that scaub.
He will be most deucedly annoyed if it's lost. Yes, indeed,
(31:15):
who ever stole it upset the can of red paint
and stepped in it, devilish careless of them. It must
have made the dickens of a mess. Why don't people
look where they are walking? I suspect this man of
shielding the criminal by hiding her shoe in this closet. Oh,
it's not his own shoes that this young man keeps
in closets. It is a woman's shoe, Lord Emsworth, the
(31:39):
deuce it is. Then it was a woman who stole
the scaab. Is that the way you figure it out?
Bless my soul, Baxter. One wonders what women are coming
to nowadays. It's all this movement. I suppose the vote
and all that.
Speaker 2 (31:51):
Eh.
Speaker 1 (31:52):
I recollect having a chat with the Marquis of Petersfield
some time ago. He is in the cabinet, and he
tells me it is perfectly infern the way these women
carry on. He said, sometimes it got to such a
pitch with them waving banners and presenting petitions and throwing
flower and things at a fellow, that if he saw
his own mother coming toward him with a hand behind
(32:13):
her back, he would run like a rabbit. Told me
so himself, So said the efficient Baxter, cutting in on
the flow of speech. What I wished to do is
to break open this closet, ay, Why to get the shoe?
Speaker 2 (32:29):
The shoe?
Speaker 1 (32:29):
Ah, yes, I recollect now. You were telling me if
your lordship has no objection. Objection, my dear fellow, none
in the world. Why should I have any objection? Let
me see what is it you wish to do?
Speaker 2 (32:43):
This, said Baxter.
Speaker 1 (32:45):
Shortly, he seized the poker from the fireplace and delivered
two rapid blows on the closet door. The wood was splintered.
A third blow smashed the flimsy lock. The closet, with
any skeletons it might contain, was open for all to view.
It contained a corkscrew, a box of matches, a paper
covered copy of a book entitled Mary the Beautiful mill Hand,
(33:09):
a bottle of embrocation, a spool of cotton, two pencil stubs,
and other useful and entertaining objects. It contained, in fact,
almost everything except a paint splashed shoe, and Baxter gazed
at the collection in dumb disappointment. Are you satisfied now,
my dear Baxter, said the earl, Or is there any
(33:30):
more furniture that you would like to break? You know,
this furniture breaking is becoming a positive craze with you
my dear fellow, you ought to fight against it the
night before last. I don't know how many tables broken
in the hall, and now this closet you will ruin me.
No purse can stand the constant drain. Baxter did not reply.
(33:51):
He was still trying to rally from the blow. A
chance remark of Lord Emsworth set him off on the
trail once more. Lord Elmsworth, having said his say, had
dismissed the affair from his mind, and begun to potter again.
The course of his pottering had brought him to the fireplace,
where a little pile of soot on the fender caught
his eye. He bent down to inspect it. Dear me,
(34:14):
he said, I must remember to tell Beech to have
his chimney swept. It seems to need it badly. No
trumpet call ever acted more instantaneously on old war horse
than this simple remark on the efficient Baxter. He was
still convinced that, ashe had hidden the shoes somewhere in
the room, and now that the closet had proved an alibi,
(34:35):
the chimney was the only spot that remained unsearched. He
dived forward with a rush, nearly knocking Lord Emsworth off
his feet and thrust an arm up into the unknown.
The startled peer, having recovered his balance, met ashes respectfully
pitying gaze. We must humor him, said the gaze, more
plainly than speech. Baxter continued to grope. The chimney was
(35:00):
a roomy chimney and needed careful examination. He wriggled his
hand about, clutchingly. From time to time soot fell in
gentle showers, my dear Baxter. Baxter was baffled. He withdrew
his hand from the chimney and straightened himself. He brushed
a bead of perspiration from his face with the back
of his hand. Unfortunately he used the sooty hand, and
(35:23):
the result was too much for Lord Emsworth's politeness. He
burst into a series of pleased chuckles. Your face, my
dear Baxter, your face, it is positively covered with soot.
Positively you must go and wash it. You are quite black, really,
my dear fellow, you present rather an extraordinary appearance. Run
off to your room. Against this crowning blow, the efficient
(35:45):
Baxter could not stand up.
Speaker 2 (35:47):
It was the end. Soot.
Speaker 1 (35:50):
He murmured, weakly, soot, your face is covered my dear
fellow quite covered. It certainly has a faintly stooty aspect,
Sir said ash his voice roused the sufferer to one
last flicker of spirit. You will hear more of this,
he said, you will. At this moment, slightly muffled by
the intervening door and passageway, there came from the direction
(36:13):
of the hall a sound like the delivery of a
ton of coal, A heavy body bumped down the stairs,
and a voice which all three recognized as that of
the Honorable Freddy uttered an oath that lost itself in
a final crash, and a musical splintering sound, which Baxter,
for one, had no difficulty in recognizing as the disillusion
(36:33):
of occasional china.
Speaker 2 (36:35):
Even if they had not so.
Speaker 1 (36:37):
Able a detective as Baxter with them, Lord Emsworth, and
ashe would have been at no loss to guess what
had happened, Doctor Watson himself could have deduced it from
the evidence the Honorable Freddy had fallen downstairs. With a
little ingenuity, this portion of the story of mister Peter's
scarab could be converted into an excellent tract, driving home
(37:00):
the perils even in this world of absenting one's self
from church on Sunday morning. If the Honorable Freddy had
gone to church, he would not have been running down
the Great staircase at the Castle at this hour, And
if he had not been running down the Great staircase
at the Castle at that hour, he would not have
encountered Muriel. Muriel was a Persian cat belonging to Lady
(37:22):
Anne Warblington. Lady Anne had breakfasted in bed and lain
there late, as she rather fancied she had one of
her sick headaches coming on. Muriel had left her room
in the wake of the breakfast tray, being anxious to
be present at the obsequies of a fried soul that
had formed Lady Anne's simple morning meal, and had followed
the maid who bore it until she had reached the hall.
(37:44):
At this point, the maid who disliked Muriel, stopped and
made a noise like an exploding pot bottle, at the
same time taking a little run in Muriel's direction and
kicking at her with a menacing foot. Muriel, wounded and startled,
had turned in her tracks and sprinted back up the
staircase at the exact moment when the Honorable Freddy, who
(38:05):
for some reason was in a great hurry ran lightly down.
There was an instant when Freddy could have saved himself
by planting a number ten shoe on Muriel's spine. But
even in that crisis, he bethought him that he hardly
stood solid enough with the authorities to risk adding to
his misdeeds the slaughter of his aunt's favorite cat, and
(38:26):
he executed a rapid swerve. The spared cat proceeded on
her journey upstairs, while Freddy, touching the staircase at intervals,
went on down. Having reached the bottom, he sat amid
the occasional china, like Malorius, among the ruins of Carthage,
and endeavored to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He
(38:46):
had a dazed suspicion that he was irretrievably fractured in
a dozen places. It was in this attitude that the
rescue party found him. He gazed up with them with
silent pathos. In the name of goodness, Frederick said, Lord Elmsworth, peevishly,
what do you imagine you are doing? Freddie endeavored to rise,
but sank back again with a stifled howl. It was
(39:08):
that bally cat of Aunt Anne's, he said it came
legging it up the stairs. I think I've broken my leg.
You have certainly broken everything else, said his father, unsympathetically.
Between you and Baxter, I wonder if there's a stick
of furniture standing in the house. Thanks, old Chap, said
Freddy gratefully, as ashe stepped forward.
Speaker 2 (39:27):
And lent him an arm.
Speaker 1 (39:28):
I think my bally ankle must have got twisted. I
wish you would give me a hand up to my room,
and Baxter, my dear fellow, said Lord Elmsworth. You might
telephone to doctor Bird in Market Blandings and ask him
to be good enough to drive out. I am sorry, Freddie,
He added that you should have met with this accident.
But but everything is so so disturbing nowadays that I
(39:50):
feel I feel most disturbed. Ash and the Honorable Freddy
began to move across the hall, Freddie hopping, Ash advancing
with a sort of polka step. As they reached the stairs,
there was a sound of wheels outside, and the vanguard
of the house party, returned from church entered the house.
(40:10):
It's all very well to give it out officially that
Freddy has fallen downstairs and sprained his ankle, said Colonel
Horace Mant discussing the affair with the Bishop of Godalming
later in the afternoon. But it's my firm belief that
that fellow Baxter did precisely as I said he would,
ran a muck and inflicted dashed, frightful injuries on young Freddy.
When I got into the house, there was Freddy being
(40:31):
helped up the stairs, while Baxter, with his face covered
with soot, was looking after him with a sort of
evil grin. What had he smeared his face with soot?
For I should like to know if he were perfectly sane.
The whole thing is dashed, fishy and mysterious, And the
sooner I can get Mildred safely out of the place,
the better I shall be pleased. The fellow's as mad
(40:52):
as a hatter. End of Chapter nine.
Chapter nine of Something New. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Something
New by P. G. Woodhouse, Chapter nine. As we grow
(00:22):
older and realize more clearly the limitations of human happiness,
we come to see that the only real and abiding
pleasure in life is to give pleasure to other people.
One must assume that the efficient Baxter had not reached
the age when this comes home to a man. For
the fact that he had given genuine pleasure to some
dozens of his fellow men brought him no balm. There
(00:45):
was no doubt about the pleasure he had given. Once
they had got over their disappointment at finding that he
was not a dead burglar, the house party rejoiced wholeheartedly
at the break in the monotony of life at Blandings Castle.
Relations who had not been on speaking terms for years,
forgot their quarrels and strolled about the grounds in perfect harmony,
abusing Baxter. The general verdict was that he was insane.
(01:10):
Don't tell me that, young Fellow's all there, said Colonel
Horace Mant, because I know better have you noticed his
eye furtive, shifty, nasty gleam in it? Besides dash it?
Did you happen to take a look at the hall
last night after he had been there? It was in ruins,
my dear sir, absolute dashed ruins. It was positively littered
(01:31):
with broken china and tables that had been bowled over.
Don't tell me that was just an accidental collision in
the dark, My dear sir. The man must have been
thrashing about, absolutely thrashing about like a dashed salmon on
a dashed look. He must have had a paroxysm of
some kind, some kind of a dashed fit. A doctor
could give you the name for it. It's a well
(01:52):
known form of insanity. Paranoia, isn't that what they call it?
Rush of blood to the head, followed by a general
running a mock. I've heard fellows who have been in
India talk of it. Natives get it, don't know what
they're doing, and charged through the streets taking cracks at
people with dashed, whacking great knives. Same with this young man,
probably in a modified form at present. He ought to
(02:14):
be in a home one of these knights. If this
grows on him, he will be massacring Emsworth in his bed.
My dear Horace, the Bishop of Godalming's voice was properly
horror stricken, but there was a certain unctuous relish in it.
Take my word for it, though, mind you, I don't
say they aren't well suited. Every one knows that Elmsworth
has been, to all practical intents and purposes, a dashed
(02:36):
lunatic for years.
Speaker 2 (02:37):
What was it that young.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
Fellow Emerson, Freddy's American friend was saying the other day
about some acquaintance of his who was not quite right
in the head. Nobody in the house is that it?
Something to that effect? At any rate, I felt at
the time it was a perfect description of Elmsworth, My
dear Horace, your father in law, the head of the family,
a dashed lunatic, my dear sir, head of the family,
(03:00):
or no head of the family. A man as absent
minded as he is, has no right to call himself sane.
Nobody in the house, I recollect it now, Nobody in
the house except gas and that has not been turned on.
That's Elmsworth. The efficient Baxter, who had just left his presence,
was feeling much the same about his noble employer. After
(03:22):
a sleepless night, he had begun at an early hour
to try and corner Lord Emsworth in order to explain
to him the true inwardness of last night's happenings. Eventually,
he had tracked him to the museum, where he found
him happily engaged in painting a cabinet of birds eggs.
Speaker 2 (03:39):
He was seated on.
Speaker 1 (03:40):
A small stool, a large pot of red paint on
the floor beside him, dabbing at the cabinet with a
dripping brush. He was absorbed and made no attempt whatever
to follow his secretary's remarks. For ten minutes, Baxter gave
a vivid picture of his vigil and the manner in
which it had been interrupted. Just so, oh, just so,
(04:00):
my dear fellow, said the Earl when he had finished.
Speaker 2 (04:02):
I quite understand.
Speaker 1 (04:04):
All I say is, if you do require additional food
in the night, let one of the servants bring it
to your room before bedtime. Then there will be no
danger of these disturbances. There is no possible objection to
your eating a hundred meals a day, my good Baxter,
provided you do not rouse the whole house over them.
Some of us like to sleep during the night. But
Lord Elmsworth, I have just explained it was not I
(04:27):
was not. Never mind, my dear fellow. Never mind, Why
make such an important thing of it. Many people like
a light snack before actually retiring. Doctors, I believe, sometimes
recommend it. Tell me, Baxter, how do you think the
museum looks now? A little brighter? Better for the dash
of color?
Speaker 2 (04:44):
I think so.
Speaker 1 (04:45):
Museums are generally such gloomy places, Lord Elmsworth, May I
explain once again? The Earl looked annoyed, My dear Baxter.
I have told you that there is nothing to explain.
You are getting a little tedious. What a deep re
which read this is? And how clean new paint smells?
Do you know, Baxter, I have been longing to mess
about with paint ever since I was a boy. I
(05:07):
recollect my old father beating me with a walking stick.
That would be before your time.
Speaker 2 (05:11):
Of course.
Speaker 1 (05:12):
By the way, if you see Freddy, will you tell
him I want to speak to him. He probably is
in the smoking room. Send him to me here. It
was an overwrought Baxter who delivered the message to the
honorable Freddy, who, as predicted, was in the smoking room.
Lounging in a deep arm chair. There are times when
life presses hard on a man, and it pressed hard
(05:33):
on Baxter. Now all fate had played him a sorry trick.
It had put him in a position where he had
to choose between two courses, each as disagreeable as the other.
He must either face a possible second fiasco like that
of last night, or else he must abandon his post
and cease to mount guard over his threatened treasure. His
(05:55):
imagination quailed at the thought of a repetition of last
night's horrors. He had been badly shaken by his collision
with the table, and even more so by the events
that had followed it. Those revolver shots still rang in
his ears. It was probably the memory of those shots
that turned the scale. It was unlikely he would again
become entangled with a man bearing a tongue and the
(06:17):
other things he had given up in despair the attempt
to unravel the mystery of the tongue. It completely baffled him,
But it was by no means unlikely that if he
spent another night in the gallery looking on the hall,
he might not again become a target for Lord Emsworth's
irresponsible firearm. Nothing, in fact was more likely, for in
the disturbed state of the public mind, the slightest sound
(06:39):
after nightfall would be sufficient cause for a fusillade. He
had actually overheard young Algernon Worcester telling Lord stock Heath
he had a jolly good mind to sit on the
stairs that night with a shotgun, because it was his
opinion that there was a jolly sight more in this
business than there seemed to be. And what he thought
of the Bally affair was that there was a gang
of some kind of work, and that that Feller what's
(07:02):
his name, that Feller Baxter was some sort of an accomplice.
Speaker 2 (07:06):
With these things.
Speaker 1 (07:07):
In his mind, Baxter decided to remain that night in
the security of his bedroom. He had lost his nerve.
He formed this decision with the utmost reluctance, for the
thought of leaving the road to the museum clear for
marauders was bitter in the extreme. If he could have
overheard a conversation between Joan Valentine and Ashmarson, it is
(07:27):
probable he would have risked Lord Emsworth's revolver and the
shotgun of the Honorable Algernon Worcester. Ash when he met Joan,
and recounted the events of the night at which Joan,
who was a sound sleeper, had not been present, was
inclined to blame himself as a failure. True fate had
been against him, but the fact remained that he had
(07:48):
achieved nothing. Joan, however, was not of this opinion. You
have done wonders, she said, you have cleared the way
for me. That is my idea of real team work.
I'm so glad now that we formed our partnership. It
would have been too bad if I had got all
the advantage of your work and had jumped in and
deprived you of the reward. As it is, I shall
(08:09):
go down and finish the thing off tonight with a
clear conscience. You can't mean that you dream of going
down to the museum tonight. Of course I do, but
it's madness. On the contrary, Tonight is the one night
when there ought to be no risk at all after
what happened last night. Because of what happened last night,
(08:30):
do you imagine mister Baxter will dare to stir.
Speaker 2 (08:33):
From his bed after that?
Speaker 1 (08:35):
If ever there was a chance of getting this thing finished,
it will be tonight.
Speaker 2 (08:39):
You're quite right.
Speaker 1 (08:40):
I never looked at it that way, Baxter wouldn't risk
a second disaster. I'll certainly make a successive. At this time,
Joan raised her eyebrows. I don't quite understand you, mister Marson.
Do you propose to try to get the scare up tonight?
Speaker 2 (08:54):
Yes?
Speaker 1 (08:55):
It will be as easy as are you forgetting that
by the terms of our agreement, it is my You
surely don't intend to hold me to that.
Speaker 2 (09:04):
Certainly I do.
Speaker 1 (09:06):
But good Heavens, consider my position. Do you seriously expect
me to lie in bed while you do all the work,
and then to take a half share in the reward
I do. It's ridiculous. It's no more ridiculous than that
I should do the same, mister Marson. There's no use
in our going over all this again. We settled it
long ago. Joan refused to discuss the matter further, leaving
(09:28):
ashe in a condition of anxious misery comparable only to
that which, as night began to draw near gnawed the
vitals of the efficient Baxter. Breakfast at Blanding's Castle.
Speaker 2 (09:40):
Was an informal meal.
Speaker 1 (09:43):
There was food and drink in the long dining hall,
for such as were energetic enough to come down and
get it. But the majority of the house party breakfasted
in their rooms. Lord Emsworth, whom nothing in the world
would have induced to begin the day in the company
of a crowd of his relations, most of whom he disliked,
setting them the example. When therefore, Baxter, yielding to nature,
(10:05):
after having remained awake until the early morning, fell asleep
at nine o'clock. Nobody came to rouse him. He did
not ring his bell, so he was not disturbed, and
he slept on until half past eleven, by which time
it being Sunday morning, and the house party, including one
bishop and several of the minor clergy, most of the
(10:25):
occupants of the place had gone off to church. Baxter
shaved and dressed hastily, for he was in a state
of nervous apprehension. He blamed himself for having lain in
bed so long, when every minute he was away might
mean the loss of the scarab. He had passed several
hours in dreamy sloth. He had wakened with a presentiment.
Something told him the scaab had been stolen in the night,
(10:48):
and he wished now that he had risked all and
kept guard. The house was very quiet, as he made
his way rapidly to the hall. As he passed a window,
he perceived Lord Emsworth in an unset libertarian suit of
tweeds and bearing a garden fork, which must have pained
the Bishop bending earnestly over a flower bed. But he
(11:08):
was the only occupant of the grounds and indoors. There
was a feeling of emptiness. The hall had that Sunday
morning air of wanting to be left to itself and
disapproving of the entry of anything human until lunch time,
which can be felt only by a guest in a
large house who remains at home when his fellows have
gone to church. The portraits on the walls, especially the
(11:31):
one of the Countess of Elmsworth and the character of
Venus rising from the sea, stared at Baxter as he
entered with cold reproof. The very chairs seemed distant and unfriendly,
but Baxter was in no mood to appreciate their attitude.
His conscience slept, his mind was occupied to the exclusion
of all other things, by the scarab and its probable fate.
(11:54):
How disastrously remiss it had been of him not to
keep guard last night. Long before he opened the museum door,
he was feeling the absolute certainty that the worst had happened.
It had The card which announced that here was an
Egyptian scaab of the reign of Cheops of the Fourth Dynasty,
presented by J. Preston Peters Esquire still lay on the
(12:15):
cabinet in its wonted place, but now its neat lettering
was false and misleading. The scareb was gone. For all
that he had expected, this, for all his premonition of disaster.
It was an appreciable time before the efficient Baxter rallied
from the blow. He stood transfixed, goggling at the empty place.
(12:37):
Then his mind resumed its functions. All he perceived was
not yet lost. Baxter the Watchdog must retire to be
succeeded by Baxter the sleuth Hound. He had been unable
to prevent the theft of the scarab, but he might
still detect the thief. For the doctor Watson's of this world,
as opposed to the Sherlock Holmeses, success in the Robinson
(13:00):
detective work, must always be, to a very large extent
the result of luck. Sherlock Holmes can extract a clue
from a wisp of straw or a flake of cigar ash.
But doctor Watson has to have it taken out for
him and dusted and exhibited clearly with a label attached.
The average man is a doctor Watson. We are wont
(13:21):
to scoff in a patronizing manner at that humble follower
of the great investigator. But as a matter of fact
we should have been just as dull ourselves. We should
not even have risen to the modest height of a
Scotland yard bungler. Baxter was a doctor Watson. What he
wanted was a clue. But it is so hard for
the novice to tell what is a clue and what
(13:41):
is not. And then he happened to look down, and
there on the floor was a clue that nobody could
have overlooked. Baxter saw it, but did not immediately recognize
it for what it was.
Speaker 2 (13:53):
What he saw at.
Speaker 1 (13:54):
First was not a clue, but just a mess. He
had a tidy soul and uphoard messes, and this was
a particularly messy mess. A considerable portion of the floor
was a sea of red paint. The can from which
it had flowed was lying on its side near the wall.
He had noticed that the smell of paint had seemed
(14:14):
particularly pungent, but had attributed this to a new freshet
of energy on the part of Lord Emsworth. He had
not perceived that paint had been spilled. Pah, said Baxter.
Then suddenly, beneath the disguise of the mess he saw
the clew a footmark, no less a crimson footmark on
(14:35):
the polished wood. It was as clear and distinct as
though it had been left there for the purpose of
assisting him. It was a feminine footmark, the print of
a slim and pointed shoe. This perplexed Baxter. He had
looked on the siege of the Scarab as an exclusively
male affair, but he was not perplexed long What could
(14:56):
be simpler than that mister Peters should have enlisted female aide.
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Probably she makes a better purloiner of Scarabs at any rate.
There the footprint was unmistakably feminine. Inspiration came to him,
Aleen Peters had a maid. What more likely than that,
(15:17):
secretly she should be a hiring of mister Peters, on
whom he had now come to look as a man
of the blackest and most sinister character. Mister Peters was
a collector, and when a collector makes up his mind
to secure a treasure, he employs. Baxter knew every possible
means to that end. Baxter was now in a state
of great excitement. He was hot on the scent, and
(15:39):
his brain was working like a buzz saw in an
ice box. According to his reasoning, if Aleen Peter's maid
had done this thing, there should be red paint in
the hall marking her retreat, and possibly a faint stain
on the stairs leading to the servant's bedrooms. He hastened
from the museum and subjected the hall to a keen scrutiny. Yes,
(16:02):
there was red paint on the carpet. He passed through
the green Bay's door and examined the stairs. On the
bottom step there was a faint but conclusive stain of Crimson.
He was wondering how best to follow up this clue
when he perceived Ash coming down the stairs. Ash, like Baxter,
and as the result of a night disturbed by anxious thoughts,
(16:24):
had also overslept himself. There are moments when the giddy
excitement of being right on the trail causes the amateur
or Watsonian detective to be incautious. If Baxter had been wise,
he would have achieved his object the getting a glimpse
of Joan's shoes, by a devious and snaky route. As
(16:44):
it was, zeal getting the better of prudence, He rushed
straight on. His early suspicion of Ash had been temporarily obscured.
Whatever Ash's claims to be a suspect, it had not
been his footprint Baxter had seen in the museum. Hear you,
said the efficient Baxter excitedly, Sir, the shoes. I beg
(17:06):
your pardon. I wish to see the servant's shoes. Where
are they? I expect they have them on, sir, yesterday's shoes. Man,
yesterday's shoes.
Speaker 2 (17:16):
Where are they?
Speaker 1 (17:17):
Where are the shoes of yester year?
Speaker 2 (17:20):
Murmured Ash.
Speaker 1 (17:21):
I should say at adventure, Sir, that they would be
in a large basket somewhere near the kitchen. Our genial
knife and shoe boy collects them.
Speaker 2 (17:29):
I believe at early dawn.
Speaker 1 (17:31):
Would they have been cleaned yet? If I know the
lad Sir, no, go and bring that basket to me.
Bring it to me in this room.
Speaker 2 (17:42):
The room to.
Speaker 1 (17:42):
Which he referred was none other than the private sanctum
of mister Beach, the butler, the door of which standing
open showed it to be empty. It was not Baxter's plan.
Excited as he was to risk being discovered sifting shoes
in the middle of a passage in the servants quarters,
Ashes bring Pane was working rapidly as he made for
the shoe cupboard, that little den of darkness and smells
(18:05):
where Billy the knife and shoe boy, better known in
the circle in which he moved as young Bonehead pursued
his menial tasks.
Speaker 2 (18:13):
What exactly was at the back of.
Speaker 1 (18:14):
The Efficient Baxter's mind prompting these maneuvers, he did not know,
but that there was something he was certain. He had
not yet seen Joan this morning, and he did not
know whether or not she had carried out her resolve
of attempting to steal the scab on the previous night.
But this activity and mystery on the part of their
enemy must have some sinister significance. He gathered up the
(18:37):
shoe basket thoughtfully. He staggered back with it and dumped
it down on the floor of mister Beech's room. The
Efficient Baxter stooped eagerly over it. Ash leaning against the wall,
straightened the creases in his clothes, and flicked disgustedly at
an inky spot which the journey had transferred from the
basket to his coat. We have here, sir, he said,
(18:59):
a fair selection of our various foot coverings. You did
not drop any on your way, not one, sir. The
efficient Baxter uttered a grunt of satisfaction, and bent once
more to his task.
Speaker 2 (19:12):
Shoes flew about the room.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
Baxter knelt on the floor beside the basket and dug
like a terrier at a rat hole. At last he
made a find, and with an exclamation of triumph, rose
to his feet. In his hand he held a shoe.
Put those back, he said, ash began to pick up
the scattered foot gear. That's the lot, sir, he said, rising,
(19:36):
Now come with me. Leave the basket there. You can
carry it back when you return. Shall I put back that.
Speaker 2 (19:41):
Shoe, sir? Certainly not. I shall take this one with me.
Shall I carry it for you? Sir?
Speaker 1 (19:48):
Baxter reflected, yes, I think that would be best. Trouble
had shaken his nerve. He was not certain that there
might not be others besides Lord Emsworth in the garden.
When it occurred to him that, especially after his reputation
for eccentric conduct had been so firmly established by his
misfortunes that night in the hall, it might cause comments
(20:10):
should he appear before them carrying a shoe. Ash took
the shoe, and doing so understood what before had puzzled him.
Across the toe was a broad splash of red paint.
Though he had nothing else to go on, he saw
all the shoe he held was.
Speaker 2 (20:27):
A female shoe.
Speaker 1 (20:28):
His own researches in the museum had made him aware
of the presence there of red paint. It was not
difficult to build up on these data a pretty accurate
estimate of the position of affairs. Come with me, said Baxter.
He left the room. Ashe followed him in the garden
Lord elmsworth Garden, fork in hand, was dealing summarily with
(20:50):
a green young weed that had incautiously shone its head
in the middle of a flower bed. He listened to
Baxter's statement with more interest than he usually shu in
anybody's statements. He resented the loss of the scarab, not
so much on account of its intrinsic worth as because
it had been the gift of his friend mister Peters. Indeed,
(21:11):
he said, when Baxter had finished, Really, dear me, it
certainly seems it is extremely suggestive. You are certain there
was red paint on this shoe. I have it with me.
I brought it on purpose to show you. He looked
at Ash, who stood in close attendance the shoe. Lord
Emsworth polished his glasses and bent over the exhibit. Ah,
(21:34):
he said, now let me look at this. You say,
is the just so, just so? Just my dear Baxter.
It may be that I have not examined this shoe
with sufficient care, But can you point out to me
exactly where this paint is that you speak of? The
Efficient Baxter stood staring at the shoe with wild fixed stare.
(21:57):
Of any suspicion of paint red or otherwise, it was
absolutely and entirely innocent. The shoe became the center of attraction,
the center of all eyes. The Efficient Baxter fixed it
with the piercing glare of one who feels that his
brain is tottering. Lord Elmsworth looked at it with a
mildly puzzled expression. Ash Marson examined it with a sort
(22:20):
of affectionate interest, as though he were waiting for it
to do a trick of some kind. Baxter was the
first to break the silence. There was paint on this shoe,
he said, vehemently. I tell you there was a splash
of red paint across the toe. This man here will
bear me out in this. You saw paint on this shoe.
Speaker 2 (22:40):
Paint, sir?
Speaker 1 (22:41):
What do you mean to tell me you did not
see it? No, sir, there was no paint on this shoe.
This is ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes.
It was a broad splash right across the toe. Lord
Emsworth interposed, you must have made a mistake, my dear Baxter.
There was, sir, no trace of paint on this shoe.
(23:02):
These momentary, optical delusions are, I fancy not uncommon. Any
doctor will tell you I had an aunt, Your lordship,
said ashe Chatterley, who was remarkably subject. It is absurd.
I cannot have been mistaken, said Baxter. I am positively
certain the toe of this shoe was red when I
found it. It is quite black now, my dear Baxter,
(23:25):
sort of chameleon shoe, murmured ash. The goaded secretary turned
on him.
Speaker 2 (23:30):
What did you say? Nothing?
Speaker 1 (23:32):
Sir Baxter's old suspicion of this smooth young man came
surging back to him. I strongly suspect you of having
had something to do with this, Really, Baxter, said the earl.
That is surely the least probable of solutions. This young
man could hardly have cleaned the shoe. On his way
from the house. A few days ago, when painting in
(23:54):
the museum, I inadvertently splashed some paint on.
Speaker 2 (23:57):
My own shoe.
Speaker 1 (23:58):
I can assure you it does not brush. It needs
a very systematic cleaning before all traces are removed. Exactly,
your lordship said ashe. My theory, if I may, yes,
My theory, your Lordship, is that mister Baxter was deceived
by the light and shade effects on the toe of
the shoe. The morning sun streaming in through the window
(24:19):
must have shone on the shoe in such a manner
as to give it a momentary and fictitious aspect of redness.
If mister Baxter recollects he did not look long at
the shoe, The picture on the retina of the eye
consequently had not time to fade. I myself remember thinking
at the moment that the shoe appeared to have a
certain reddish tint. The mistake, bah, said Baxter.
Speaker 2 (24:42):
Shortly.
Speaker 1 (24:44):
Lord Emsworth, now thoroughly bored with the whole affair, in
desiring nothing more than to be left alone with his
weeds and his garden fork, put in his word, Baxter,
he felt was curiously irritating these days. He always seemed
to be bobbing up. The Earl of EM's Worth was
conscious of a strong desire to be free from his
secretary's company. He was efficient, yes, invaluable. Indeed, he did
(25:08):
not know what he should do without Baxter, but there
was no denying that his company tended, after a while
to become a trifle tedious. He took a fresh grip
on his garden fork and shifted it about in the air,
as a hint that the interview had lasted long enough.
It seems to me, my dear fellow, he said, the
only explanation that was square with the facts. A shoe
(25:29):
that is really smeared with red paint does not become
black of itself in the course of a few minutes.
You are very right, your lordship, said, ashe approvingly. May
I go now, your lordship, certainly, certainly, by all means,
Shall I take the shoe with me, your lordship, if
you do not want it. Baxter, the secretary, passed a
(25:51):
fraudulent piece of evidence to Ash without a word, and
the latter, having included both gentlemen in a kindly smile,
left the garden. On returning to the butler's room, Ash's
first act was to remove a shoe from the top
of the pile in the basket.
Speaker 2 (26:06):
He was about to.
Speaker 1 (26:07):
Leave the room with it when the sound of footsteps
in the passage outside halted him. I do not in
the least understand why you wish me to come here,
my dear Baxter, said a voice, And you are completely
spoiling my mourning. But for a moment, ashe was at
a loss, it was a crisis that called for swift action,
and it was a little hard to know exactly.
Speaker 2 (26:28):
What to do.
Speaker 1 (26:30):
It had been his intention to carry the paint splashed
shoe back to his own room, there to clean it
at his leisure, But it appeared that this strategic line
of retreat was blocked plainly the possibility, nay the certainty
that ashe had substituted another shoe for the one with
the incriminating splash of paint on it had occurred to
the efficient Baxter, almost directly the former had left the garden.
(26:53):
The window was open. Ash looked out. There were bushes below.
It was a makeshift pole, and one which did not
commend itself to him as the ideal method, but it
seemed the only thing to be done, for already the
footsteps had reached the door.
Speaker 2 (27:09):
He threw the.
Speaker 1 (27:10):
Shoe out of window, and it sank beneath the friendly
surface of the long grass round a wistaria bush. Ash
turned relieved, and the next moment the door opened and
Baxter walked in, accompanied with obvious reluctance by his bored employer.
Baxter was brisk and peremptory. I wish to look at
(27:31):
those shoes again, he said coldly. Certainly, sir, said Ash,
I can manage without your assistance.
Speaker 2 (27:37):
Said Baxter. Very good, Sir.
Speaker 1 (27:41):
Leaning against the wall, Ash watched him with silent interest
as he burrowed among the contents of the basket like
a terrier digging for rats. The Earl of Emsworth took
no notice of the proceedings. He yawned plaintively and pottered
about the room. He was one of nature's potterers. The
scrutiny of the man whom he had no placed definitely
(28:01):
as a malefactor irritated Baxter. As was looking at him
in an insufferably tolerant manner, as if he were an
indulgent father brooding over his infant son while engaged in
some childish frolic. He lodged a protest. Don't stand there
staring at me. I was interested in what you were doing, sir,
(28:21):
Never mind, don't stare at me in that idiotic way.
May I read a book, sir? Yes, read if you like.
Thank you, sir, As took a volume from the butler's
slenderly stocked shelf. The shoe expert resumed his investigations in
the basket. He went through it twice, but each time
without success. After the second search, he stood up and
(28:44):
looked wildly about the room. He was as certain as
he could be of anything, that the missing piece of
evidence was somewhere within those four walls. There was very
little cover in the room, even for so small a
fugitive as a shoe. He raised the tablecloth and peered
beneath the table. Are you looking for, mister beach, sir,
(29:04):
said ash, I think he is going to church, Baxter pink,
with his exertions fastened a baleful glance upon him. You
had better be careful, he said. At this point, the
Earl of Emsworth, having done all the pottering possible in
the restricted area, yawned like an alligator. Now, my dear Baxter,
(29:25):
he began querulously. Baxter was not listening. He was on
the trail. He had caught sight of a small closet
in the wall next to the mantelpiece, and it had
stimulated him. What is in this closet? That closet, sir, Yes,
this closet. He rapped the door irritably. I could not say, sir,
(29:48):
mister Beach, to whom the closet belongs, possibly keeps a
few odd trifles there, a ball of string, perhaps, maybe
an old pipe or something of that kind, Probably nothing
of value or interest. Open it.
Speaker 2 (30:01):
It appears to be locked, sir. Unlock it? But where
is the key?
Speaker 1 (30:07):
Baxter thought for a moment, Lord Elmsworth, He said, I
have my reasons for thinking that this man is deliberately
keeping the contents of this closet for me. I am
convinced that the shoe is in there. Have I your
leave to break open the door. The earl looked a
little dazed, as if he were unequal to the intellectual
pressure of the conversation. Now, my dear Baxter, said the
(30:30):
earl impatiently, Please tell me once again why you have
brought me in here. I cannot make head or tail
of what you have been saying. Apparently you accuse this
young man of keeping his shoes in a closet. Why
should you suspect him of keeping his shoes in a closet,
And if he wishes to do so, why on earth
should he not keep his shoes in a closet. This
is a free country, exactly, your lordship, said ash approvingly.
(30:53):
You have touched the spot. It all has to do
with the theft of your scare of Lord Emsworth. But
he got into the museum and stole the scaub. Ah yes, ah, yes,
so they did. I remember now you told me bad
business that, my dear Baxter. Mister Peters gave me that scaub.
He will be most deucedly annoyed if it's lost. Yes, indeed,
(31:15):
who ever stole it upset the can of red paint
and stepped in it, devilish careless of them. It must
have made the dickens of a mess. Why don't people
look where they are walking? I suspect this man of
shielding the criminal by hiding her shoe in this closet. Oh,
it's not his own shoes that this young man keeps
in closets. It is a woman's shoe, Lord Emsworth, the
(31:39):
deuce it is. Then it was a woman who stole
the scaab. Is that the way you figure it out?
Bless my soul, Baxter. One wonders what women are coming
to nowadays. It's all this movement. I suppose the vote
and all that.
Speaker 2 (31:51):
Eh.
Speaker 1 (31:52):
I recollect having a chat with the Marquis of Petersfield
some time ago. He is in the cabinet, and he
tells me it is perfectly infern the way these women
carry on. He said, sometimes it got to such a
pitch with them waving banners and presenting petitions and throwing
flower and things at a fellow, that if he saw
his own mother coming toward him with a hand behind
(32:13):
her back, he would run like a rabbit. Told me
so himself, So said the efficient Baxter, cutting in on
the flow of speech. What I wished to do is
to break open this closet, ay, Why to get the shoe?
Speaker 2 (32:29):
The shoe?
Speaker 1 (32:29):
Ah, yes, I recollect now. You were telling me if
your lordship has no objection. Objection, my dear fellow, none
in the world. Why should I have any objection? Let
me see what is it you wish to do?
Speaker 2 (32:43):
This, said Baxter.
Speaker 1 (32:45):
Shortly, he seized the poker from the fireplace and delivered
two rapid blows on the closet door. The wood was splintered.
A third blow smashed the flimsy lock. The closet, with
any skeletons it might contain, was open for all to view.
It contained a corkscrew, a box of matches, a paper
covered copy of a book entitled Mary the Beautiful mill Hand,
(33:09):
a bottle of embrocation, a spool of cotton, two pencil stubs,
and other useful and entertaining objects. It contained, in fact,
almost everything except a paint splashed shoe, and Baxter gazed
at the collection in dumb disappointment. Are you satisfied now,
my dear Baxter, said the earl, Or is there any
(33:30):
more furniture that you would like to break? You know,
this furniture breaking is becoming a positive craze with you
my dear fellow, you ought to fight against it the
night before last. I don't know how many tables broken
in the hall, and now this closet you will ruin me.
No purse can stand the constant drain. Baxter did not reply.
(33:51):
He was still trying to rally from the blow. A
chance remark of Lord Emsworth set him off on the
trail once more. Lord Elmsworth, having said his say, had
dismissed the affair from his mind, and begun to potter again.
The course of his pottering had brought him to the fireplace,
where a little pile of soot on the fender caught
his eye. He bent down to inspect it. Dear me,
(34:14):
he said, I must remember to tell Beech to have
his chimney swept. It seems to need it badly. No
trumpet call ever acted more instantaneously on old war horse
than this simple remark on the efficient Baxter. He was
still convinced that, ashe had hidden the shoes somewhere in
the room, and now that the closet had proved an alibi,
(34:35):
the chimney was the only spot that remained unsearched. He
dived forward with a rush, nearly knocking Lord Emsworth off
his feet and thrust an arm up into the unknown.
The startled peer, having recovered his balance, met ashes respectfully
pitying gaze. We must humor him, said the gaze, more
plainly than speech. Baxter continued to grope. The chimney was
(35:00):
a roomy chimney and needed careful examination. He wriggled his
hand about, clutchingly. From time to time soot fell in
gentle showers, my dear Baxter. Baxter was baffled. He withdrew
his hand from the chimney and straightened himself. He brushed
a bead of perspiration from his face with the back
of his hand. Unfortunately he used the sooty hand, and
(35:23):
the result was too much for Lord Emsworth's politeness. He
burst into a series of pleased chuckles. Your face, my
dear Baxter, your face, it is positively covered with soot.
Positively you must go and wash it. You are quite black, really,
my dear fellow, you present rather an extraordinary appearance. Run
off to your room. Against this crowning blow, the efficient
(35:45):
Baxter could not stand up.
Speaker 2 (35:47):
It was the end. Soot.
Speaker 1 (35:50):
He murmured, weakly, soot, your face is covered my dear
fellow quite covered. It certainly has a faintly stooty aspect,
Sir said ash his voice roused the sufferer to one
last flicker of spirit. You will hear more of this,
he said, you will. At this moment, slightly muffled by
the intervening door and passageway, there came from the direction
(36:13):
of the hall a sound like the delivery of a
ton of coal, A heavy body bumped down the stairs,
and a voice which all three recognized as that of
the Honorable Freddy uttered an oath that lost itself in
a final crash, and a musical splintering sound, which Baxter,
for one, had no difficulty in recognizing as the disillusion
(36:33):
of occasional china.
Speaker 2 (36:35):
Even if they had not so.
Speaker 1 (36:37):
Able a detective as Baxter with them, Lord Emsworth, and
ashe would have been at no loss to guess what
had happened, Doctor Watson himself could have deduced it from
the evidence the Honorable Freddy had fallen downstairs. With a
little ingenuity, this portion of the story of mister Peter's
scarab could be converted into an excellent tract, driving home
(37:00):
the perils even in this world of absenting one's self
from church on Sunday morning. If the Honorable Freddy had
gone to church, he would not have been running down
the Great staircase at the Castle at this hour, And
if he had not been running down the Great staircase
at the Castle at that hour, he would not have
encountered Muriel. Muriel was a Persian cat belonging to Lady
(37:22):
Anne Warblington. Lady Anne had breakfasted in bed and lain
there late, as she rather fancied she had one of
her sick headaches coming on. Muriel had left her room
in the wake of the breakfast tray, being anxious to
be present at the obsequies of a fried soul that
had formed Lady Anne's simple morning meal, and had followed
the maid who bore it until she had reached the hall.
(37:44):
At this point, the maid who disliked Muriel, stopped and
made a noise like an exploding pot bottle, at the
same time taking a little run in Muriel's direction and
kicking at her with a menacing foot. Muriel, wounded and startled,
had turned in her tracks and sprinted back up the
staircase at the exact moment when the Honorable Freddy, who
(38:05):
for some reason was in a great hurry ran lightly down.
There was an instant when Freddy could have saved himself
by planting a number ten shoe on Muriel's spine. But
even in that crisis, he bethought him that he hardly
stood solid enough with the authorities to risk adding to
his misdeeds the slaughter of his aunt's favorite cat, and
(38:26):
he executed a rapid swerve. The spared cat proceeded on
her journey upstairs, while Freddy, touching the staircase at intervals,
went on down. Having reached the bottom, he sat amid
the occasional china, like Malorius, among the ruins of Carthage,
and endeavored to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He
(38:46):
had a dazed suspicion that he was irretrievably fractured in
a dozen places. It was in this attitude that the
rescue party found him. He gazed up with them with
silent pathos. In the name of goodness, Frederick said, Lord Elmsworth, peevishly,
what do you imagine you are doing? Freddie endeavored to rise,
but sank back again with a stifled howl. It was
(39:08):
that bally cat of Aunt Anne's, he said it came
legging it up the stairs. I think I've broken my leg.
You have certainly broken everything else, said his father, unsympathetically.
Between you and Baxter, I wonder if there's a stick
of furniture standing in the house. Thanks, old Chap, said
Freddy gratefully, as ashe stepped forward.
Speaker 2 (39:27):
And lent him an arm.
Speaker 1 (39:28):
I think my bally ankle must have got twisted. I
wish you would give me a hand up to my room,
and Baxter, my dear fellow, said Lord Elmsworth. You might
telephone to doctor Bird in Market Blandings and ask him
to be good enough to drive out. I am sorry, Freddie,
He added that you should have met with this accident.
But but everything is so so disturbing nowadays that I
(39:50):
feel I feel most disturbed. Ash and the Honorable Freddy
began to move across the hall, Freddie hopping, Ash advancing
with a sort of polka step. As they reached the stairs,
there was a sound of wheels outside, and the vanguard
of the house party, returned from church entered the house.
(40:10):
It's all very well to give it out officially that
Freddy has fallen downstairs and sprained his ankle, said Colonel
Horace Mant discussing the affair with the Bishop of Godalming
later in the afternoon. But it's my firm belief that
that fellow Baxter did precisely as I said he would,
ran a muck and inflicted dashed, frightful injuries on young Freddy.
When I got into the house, there was Freddy being
(40:31):
helped up the stairs, while Baxter, with his face covered
with soot, was looking after him with a sort of
evil grin. What had he smeared his face with soot?
For I should like to know if he were perfectly sane.
The whole thing is dashed, fishy and mysterious, And the
sooner I can get Mildred safely out of the place,
the better I shall be pleased. The fellow's as mad
(40:52):
as a hatter. End of Chapter nine.
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