October 8, 2025 • 40 mins
01 - Part 1. The Intrusion of Jimmy by P.G. Wodehouse.
The action begins with playboy bachelor Jimmy Pitt in New York; having fallen in love on a transatlantic liner, he befriends a small-time burglar and breaks into a police captain's house as a result of a bet. The cast of characters head to England, and from there on it is a typically Wodehousian romantic farce, set at the stately Dreever Castle, overflowing with imposters, detectives, crooks, scheming lovers and conniving aunts.
The action begins with playboy bachelor Jimmy Pitt in New York; having fallen in love on a transatlantic liner, he befriends a small-time burglar and breaks into a police captain's house as a result of a bet. The cast of characters head to England, and from there on it is a typically Wodehousian romantic farce, set at the stately Dreever Castle, overflowing with imposters, detectives, crooks, scheming lovers and conniving aunts.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part one of The Intrusion of Jimmy by P. G. Woodhouse.
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit
LibriVox dot O r G. Narrated by Mark Douglas Nelson.
Chapter one, Jimmy makes a Bet. The main smoking room
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of the Strollers Club had been filling for the last
half hour and was now nearly full. In many ways,
the Strollers, though not the most magnificent, is the pleasantest
club in New York. Its ideas are comfort without pomp,
and it is given over after eleven o'clock at night,
mainly to the stage. Everybody is young, clean shaven, and
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full of conversation, and the conversation strikes a purely professional note.
Everybody in the room on this July night had come
from the theater. Most of those present had been acting,
but a certain number had been to the opening performance
of the latest Better Than Raffles play. There had been
something of a boom that season in dramas whose heroes
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appealed to the public more pleasantly across the footlights than
they might have done in real life. In the play
that had opened to night. Arthur Mifflin, an exemplary young
man off the stage, had been warmly applauded for a
series of actions which performed anywhere except in the theater,
would certainly have debarred him from meaning a member of
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the Storers or any other club. In faultless evening dress,
with a debonair smile on his face, he had broken
open a safe, stolen bonds and jewelry to a large amount,
and escaped without a blush of shame via the window.
He had foiled a detective through four acts and held
up a band of pursuers with a revolver. A large
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audience had intimated complete approval throughout. It's a hit, all right,
said somebody through the smoke. These near raffles plays always are,
grumbled Willet, who played bluff Fathers in musical comedy a
few years ago. They would have been scared to death
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of putting on a show with a crook as a hero.
Now it seems to me the public doesn't want anything else,
not that they know what they do want, he concluded mournfully.
The Belle of Boulogne, in which will it sustained the
role of cyrus K Higgs, a Chicago millionaire, was slowly
fading away on a diet of paper, and this possibly
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prejudiced him. Rakes, the character actor, changed the subject. If
Will at once got started on the wrongs of the
ill fated Bell, general conversation would become impossible. Willet, denouncing
the stupidity of the public as purely a monologue artiste.
I saw Jimmy Pitt at the show, said Rakes. Everybody
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displayed interest Jimmy Pitt. When did he come back? I
thought he was in Italy. He came on the Lusitania.
I suppose she docked this morning, Jimmy Pitt, said Sutton
of the Majestic Theater. How long has he been away?
Last I saw of him was at the opening of
The Outsider at the Astore. That's a couple of months ago.
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He's been traveling in Europe, I believe, said Rakes. Lucky
beggar to be able to I wish I could Sutton
knocked off the ash of his cigar. I envy Jimmy,
he said, I don't know any one I'd rather be.
He's got much more money than any man except a
professional plute has any right to He is as strong
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as an ox. I shouldn't say he'd ever had anything
worse than measles in his life. He's got no relations,
and he isn't married. Sutton, who has been married three times,
spoke with some feeling. He's a good chap Jimmy, said Rakes. Yes,
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said Arthur Mifflin. Yes, Jimmy is a good chap. I've
known him for years. I was at college with him.
He hasn't got my brilliance of intellect, but he has
some wonderfully fine qualities. For one thing, I should say
he had put more dead beats on their legs again
than half the men in New York put together, well,
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growled Willet, whom the misfortunes of the bell had soured.
What's there in that? It's mighty easy to do the
philanthropist act when you're next door to a millionaire, Yes,
said Mifflin warmly. But it's not so easy when you're
getting thirty dollars a week on a newspaper. When Jimmy
was a reporter on the news, there used to be
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a whole crowd of fellows just living on him. Not
borrowing the occasional dollar, mind you, but living on him,
sleeping on his sofa and staying to breakfast. It made
me mad. I used to ask him why he's stood
for it. He said there was nowhere else for them
to go, and he thought he could see them through
all right, which he did, though I don't see how
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he managed it. On thirty a week, if a man's
fool enough to be an easy mark, began Willett. Oh
cut it out, said Rakes. We don't want anybody knocking
Jimmy here. All the same, said Sutton, it seems to
me that it was mighty lucky that he came into
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that money. You can't keep open house forever. On thirty
a week. By the way, Arthur, how was that? I
heard it was his uncle. It wasn't his uncle, said Mifflin.
It was by way of being a romance of sorts.
I believe fellow who had been in love with Jimmy's
mother years ago, went west, made a pile and left
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it to missus Pitt or her children. She had been
dead some time when that happened. Jimmy, of course, hadn't
a notion of what was coming to him. When suddenly
he got a listener's letter asking him to call. He
rolled round and found that there was about five hundred
thousand dollars just waiting for him to spend it. Jimmy
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Pitt had now definitely ousted loved the Cracksman as a
topic of conversation. Everybody present knew him. Most of them
had known him in his newspaper days, and though every
man there would have perished rather than admit it, they
were grateful to Jimmy for being exactly the same to
them now that he could sign a check for half
a million as he had been on the old thirty
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a week basis. Inherited wealth, of course, does not make
a young man nobler or more admirable, but the young
man does not always know this. Jimmy's had a queer life,
said Mifflin. He's been pretty much everything in his time.
Did you know he was on the stage before he
took up newspaper work, only on the road. I believe
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he got tired of it and cut it out. That's
always been his trouble. He wouldn't settle down to anything.
He studied law at Yale, but he never kept it up.
After he left the stage, he moved all over the
States without a cent, picking up any odd job he
could get. He was a waiter once for a couple
of days, but they fired him for breaking plates. Then
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he got a job in a jeweler's shop. I believe
he's a bit of an expert on jewels. At another time,
he made a hundred dollars by staying three rounds against
Kid Brady when the kid was touring the country after
he got the championship away from Jimmy Garwin. The kid
was offering a hundred to anyone who could last three
rounds with him. Jimmy did it on his head. He
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was the best amateur of his weight I ever saw.
The kid wanted him to take up scrapping seriously, but
Jimmy wouldn't have stuck to anything long enough in those days.
He is one of those gypsies of the world. He
was never really happy unless he was on the move,
and he doesn't seem to have altered since he came
into his money. Well, he can afford to keep on
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the move now, said Rakes. I wish I did you
ever hear about Jimmy and Mifflin was beginning when the
odyssey of Jimmy Pitt was interrupted by the opening of
the door and the entrance of Ulysses in person, Jimmy
Pitt was a young man of medium height, whose great
breadth and depth of chest made him look shorter than
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he really was. His jaw was square and protruded slightly,
and this, combined with a certain athletic jauntiness of carriage
and a pair of piercing brown eyes very much like
those of a bull terrier, gave him an air of aggressiveness,
which belied his character. He was not aggressive. He had
the good nature as well as the eyes of a
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bull terrier. Also he possessed when stirred, all the bull
terrier's dogged determination. There were shouts of welcome, Hello, Jimmy,
When did you get back? Come and sit down? Plenty
of room over here? Where is my wandering boy? Tonight waiter?
What's yours? Jimmy? Jimmy dropped into his seat and yawned, Well,
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he said, how goes it? Hullo Rakes, weren't you at
love the cracksman? I thought I saw you, Hullo Arthur,
congratulate you. You spoke your piece nicely, Thanks, said Mifflin.
We were just talking about you, Jimmy. You came on
the Lusitania. I suppose she didn't break the record this time,
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said Sutton. A somewhat pensive look came into Jimmy's eyes.
She came much too quick for me, he said. I
don't see why they want to rip along at that pace.
He went on hurriedly. I like to have a chance
of enjoying the sea air. I know that sea air,
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murmured Mifflin. Jimmy looked up quickly. What are you babbling about, Arthur,
I said nothing, replied Miflin, suavely. What did you think
of the show tonight, Jimmy asked Rakes. I liked it,
Arthur was fine. I can't make out, though, why all
this incense is being burned at the feet of the cracksman.
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To judge by some of the plays they produce. Now,
you think that a man had only to be a
successful burglar to become a national hero. One of these
days we shall have Arthur playing Charles Peace to a
cheering house. It is the tribute, said Mifflin, that bone
headedness pays to brains. It takes brains to be a
successful cracksman. Unless the gray matter is surging about in
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your cerebrum as in mine, you can't hope Jimmy leaned
back in his chair and spoke calmly, but with decision.
Any man of ordinary intelligence, he said, could break into
a house. Mifflin jumped up and began to gesticulate. This
was heresy, my good man, What absolute I could, said Jimmy,
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lighting a cigarette. There was a roar of laughter and approval.
For the past few weeks, during the rehearsals of Love
the Cracksman, Arthur Mifflin had disturbed the peace at the
Strollers with his theories on the art of burglary. This
was his first really big part, and he had soaked
himself in it. He had read up the literature of burglary.
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He had talked with men from Pickerton's. He had expounded
his views nightly to his brother's strollers, preaching the delicacy
and difficulty of cracking a crib till his audience had rebelled.
It charmed the strollers to find Jimmy, obviously of his
own initiative, and not to be suspected of having been
suborn to the task by themselves treading with a firm
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foot on the expert's favorite corn. Within five minutes of
their meeting. You, said Arthur, Mifflin with scorn. I you
why you couldn't break an to an egg unless it
was a poached one. What'll you bet? Said Jimmy. The
strollers began to sit up and take notice. The magic
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word bet when uttered in that room had fairly failed
to add a zest to life. They looked expectantly at
Arthur Mifflin. Go to bed, Jimmy, said the portrayer of cracksmen.
I'll come with you and tuck you in a nice
strong cup of tea in the morning, and you won't
know there has ever been anything the matter with you.
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A howl of disapproval rose from the company. Indignant voices
accused Arthur Mifflin of having a yellow streak. Encouraging voices
urged him not to be a quitter. See they scorn you,
said Jimmy, and rightly be a man, Arthur. What'll you bet?
Mister Mifflin regarded him with pity. You don't know what
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you're up against, Jimmy, he said, You're half a century
behind the times. You have an idea that all a
burglar needs is a mask, a blue chin, and dark lantern.
I tell you he requires a highly specialized education. I've
been talking to these detective fellows, and I know now
take your case, you worm. Have you a thorough knowledge
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of chemistry, physics, toxicology, sure electricity, and microscopy. You have
discovered my secret? Can you use an oxyacettle in blowpipe?
I never travel without one? What do you know about
the administration of anesthetics? Practically everything? It is one of
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my favorite hobbies. Can you make soup? Soup? Soup, said
mister Mifflin firmly. Jimmy raised his eyebrows. Does an architect
make bricks? He said? I leave the rough preliminary work
to my core of assistance. They make my soup. You
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mustn't think Jimmy's one of your common yeggs, said Sutton.
He's at the top of his profession. That's how he
made his money. I never did believe that legacy story, Jimmy, said.
Mister Miflin. Couldn't crack a child's money box, Jimmy couldn't
open a sardine tin. Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. What'll you bet?
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He said again, Come on, Arthur, you're earning a very
good salary. What'll you bet? Make it? A dinner for
all present? Suggested Rakes, a canny person who believed in
turning the wayside happenings of life when possible to his
personal profit. The suggestion was well received, all right, said Mifflin.
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How many of us are there? One, two, three, four?
Loser buys a dinner for twelve, A good dinner, interpolated
Rakes softly. A good dinner, said Jimmy. Very well. How
long do you give me, Arthur? How long do you want?
There ought to be a time limit, said Rakes. It
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seems to me that a flyer like Jimmy ought to
be able to manage it at short notice. Why not
to night, nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn't crack a
crib tonight, it's up to him. That suit you, Jimmy perfectly,
will it interposed? Will it? Had been endeavoring to drown
his sorrows all the evening, and the fact was a
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little noticeable in his speech. See here he said, how's
Jimmy going to prove he's done it? Personally? I can
take his word, said Mifflin. That'd be hanged for a tale,
oh as to prevent him saying he's done it, whether
he has or not. The strollers looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it
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was Jimmy's affair. Why you'd get your dinner in any case,
said Jimmy. A dinner from any host would smell is sweet?
Will it persisted with muddled obstinacy? Ash, that's not point.
It's principle of thing. Have this thing square and above board.
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I say. That's what I say, and very creditable to
you being able to say it, said Jimmy, cordially. See
if you can manage truly rural. What I say is
this Jimmy's a faker, and what I say is what's
prevent him from saying he's done it when he hasn't
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done it. That'll be all right, said Jimmy. I'm going
to bury a brass tube with the stars and stripes
in it under the carpet. Will it? Waved his hand.
That's quis factory, he said, with dignity. Nothing more to
say or a better idea, said Jimmy. I'll carve a
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big jay on the inside of the front door. Then
anybody who likes can make inquiries next day. Well, I'm
off home. Glad it's all settled. Anybody coming my way, Yes,
said Arthur Mifflin. We'll walk first nights always make me
as jumpy as a cat. If I don't walk my
legs off, I shan't get to sleep tonight at all.
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If you think I'm going to help you walk your
legs off, my lad, you're mistaken. I propose to stroll
gently home and go to bed. Every little bit helps,
said Mifflin. Come along, you want to keep an eye
on Jimmy, Arthur, said Sutton. He'll sand bag you and
lift your watch as soon as look at you. I
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believe he's our Seene Lupin in disguise Chapter two Pyramus,
and thisby the two men turned up the street. They
walked in silence. Arthur Mifflin was going over in his
mind such outstanding events of the evening, as he remembered
the nervousness, the relief of finding that he was gripping
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his audience, the growing conviction that he had made good,
while Jimmy seemed to be thinking his own private thoughts.
They had gone some distance before either spoke. Who is she?
Jimmy asked Mifflin. Jimmy came out of his thoughts with
a start. What's that? Who is she? I don't know
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what you mean. Yes, you do the Sea Air. Who
is she? I don't know, said Jimmy, simply, you don't know. Well,
what's her name? I don't know? Doesn't the Lusitanius still
print a passenger list? She does, and you couldn't find
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out her name in five days. No, and that's the
man who thinks he can burgle a house, said Mifflin despairingly.
They had arrived now at the building, on the second
floor of which was Jimmy's flat. Coming in, said Jimmy, Well,
I was rather thinking of pushing on as far as
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the park. I tell you, I feel all on wires.
Come in and smoke a cigar. You've got all night
before you if you want to do marathons. I haven't
seen you for a couple of months. I want you
to tell me all the news. There isn't any nothing
happens in New York. The papers say things do, but
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they don't. However, I'll come in. It seems to me
that you're the man with the news. Jimmy fumbled with
his latch key. You're a bright sort of burglar, said
Mifflin disparagingly. Why don't you use your oxy acetylene blowpipe?
Do you realize my boy, that you've let yourself in
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for buying a dinner for twelve hungry men. Next week
in the cold light of the morning, when reason returns
to her throne, that'll come home to you. I haven't
done anything of the sort, said Jimmy, unlocking the door.
Don't tell me you really mean to try it. What
else do you think I was going to do? But
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you can't. You would get caught for a certainty. And
what are you going to do then say it was
all a joke. Suppose they fill you full of bullet holes,
ny sort of fool. You'll look appealing to some outraged
householder's sense of humor while he pumps you full of
lead with a colt. These are the risks of the profession.
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You ought to know that, Arthur, Think what you went
through to night. Arthur Mifflin looked at his friend with
some uneasiness. He knew how very reckless Jimmy could be
when he had set his mind on accomplishing anything, since
under the stimulus of a challenge, he ceased to be
a reasoning being amenable to argument, and in the present case,
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he knew that Willett's words had driven the challenge home
Jimmy was not the man to sit still under the
charge of being a faker, no matter whether his accuser
had been sober or drunk. Jimmy, meanwhile, had produced whiskey
and cigars. Now he was lying on his back on
the lounge, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. Well, said
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Arthur Mifflin at length. Well, what what I meant was,
is this silence to be permanent? Or are you going
to begin shortly to amuse, elevate, and instruct Something's happened
to you. Jimmy, there was a time when you were
a bright little chap, a fellow of infinite jest, of
most excellent fancy. Where be your jibes, now, your gambols,
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your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to
set the table in a roar when you are paying
for the dinner. You remind me more of a deaf
mute celebrating the fourth of July with noiseless powder than
anything else on earth. Wake up, or I shall go. Jimmy,
we were practically boys together. Tell me about this girl,
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the girl you loved and were idiot enough to lose.
Jimmy drew a deep breath, very well, said Mifflin, complacently, sigh.
If you like, it's better than nothing. Jimmy sat up. Yes,
dozens of times, said Mifflin. What do you mean? You
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were just going to ask me if I had ever
been in love? Weren't you? I wasn't because I know
you haven't. You have no soul. You don't know what
love is. Have it your own way, said Mifflin, resignedly.
Jimmy bumped back on the sofa. I don't either, he said,
that's the trouble. Miflin looked interested. I know, he said.
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You've got that strange premonitory fluttering when the heart seems
to thrill within you, like some baby birds singing its
first song, when oh cut it out, When you ask
yourself timidly is it? Can it really be? And answer
shyly no, Yes, I believe it is. I've been through
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it dozens of times. It is a recognized early symptom.
Unless prompt measures are taken, it will develop into something acute.
In these matters. Stand on your uncle, Arthur. He knows
you make me sick. Jimmy retorted, you have our ear,
said Mifflin. Kindly tell me all. There is nothing to
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tell don't lie, James, Well, practically nothing that's better. It
was like this, good Jimmy wriggled himself into a more
comfortable position and took a sip from his glass. I
didn't see her until the second day out. I know
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that second day out, Well, we didn't really meet at all,
just how to be going to the same spot. Eh.
As a matter of fact, it was like this, like
a fool, I'd bought a second class ticket. What our
young rockerbilt Astergould, the boy millionaire traveling second class? Why
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I had an idea it would be better fun. Everybody
so much more cheery in the second cabin. You get
to know people so much quicker. Nine trips out of ten,
I much rather go second. And this was the tenth.
She was in the first cabin, said Jimmy Mifflin clutched
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his forehead. Wait, he cried. This reminds me of something
something in Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet. No, I've got it,
Pyramis and thisby I don't see the slightest resemblance. Read
Your Midsummer Night's Dream, Pyramis, and thisby says the story
did talk through the chink of a wall. Quoted Mifflin,
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we didn't. Don't be so literal. You talked across a railing.
We didn't. Did you mean to say you didn't talk
at all? We didn't say a single word. Mifflin shook
his head sadly. I give you up, he said, I
thought you were a man of enterprise. What did you do?
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Jimmy sighed softly. I used to stand and smoke against
the railing opposite the barber shop, and she used to
walk round the deck, and you used to stutter. I
would look in her direction, sometimes, corrected Jimmy, with dignity.
Don't quibble. You stared at her. You behave like a
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common rubber neck, and you know it. I am no prude, James,
but I feel compelled to say that I consider your
conduct that of a libertine. Used she to walk alone generally,
and now you love her. Eh. You went on board
that ship, happy, careless, heart free. You came off it,
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grave and saddened. Thenceforth, for you the world could contain
but one woman, and her you had lost. Mifflin groaned
in a hollow and bereaved manner, and took a sip
from his glass to buoy him up. Jimmy moved restlessly
on the sofa. Do you believe in love at first sight?
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He asked fatuously. He was in the mood when a
man says things the memory of which makes him wake
up hot all over for nights to come. I don't
see what first sight's got to do with it, said Mifflin.
According to your own statement, you stood and glared at
the girl for five days without letting up for a moment.
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I can quite imagine that you might glare yourself into
love with any one by the end of that time.
I can't see myself settling down, said Jimmy thoughtfully. And
until you feel that you want to settle down, I
suppose you can't be really in love. I was saying
practically that about you at the club just before you
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came in. My somewhat neat expression was that you were
one of the gypsies of the world. By George, You're
quite right, I always am. I suppose it's having nothing
to do. When I was on the news, I was
never like this. You weren't on the news long enough
to get tired of it. I feel now I can't
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stay in a place more than a week. It's having
this money, that does it. I suppose New York, said Mifflin,
is full of obliging persons who will be delighted to
relieve you of the incubus. Well, James, I shall leave you.
I feel more like bed now. By the way, I
suppose you lost sight of this girl when you landed. Yes, well,
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there aren't so many girls in the United States. Only
twenty million or is it forty million? Something small. All
you've got to do is search around a bit. Good Night,
good night, mister Mifflin clattered down the stairs. A minute later,
the sound of his name being called loudly from the
street brought Jimmy to the window. Mifflin was standing on
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the pavement below, looking up. Jimmy, what's the matter now?
I forgot to ask? Was she a blond? What was
she a blonde? Yelled Mifflin. No, snapped Jimmy. Dark eh
bawled Mifflin, making night hideous, Yes, said Jimmy, shutting the window. Jimmy,
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the window went up again. Well me for blondes go
to bed very well. Good night, good night. Jimmy withdrew
his head and sat down in the chair. Mifflin had
vacanate a moment later, he rose and switched off the light.
It was pleasanter to sit and think in the dark.
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His thoughts wandered off in many channels, but always came
back to the girl on the Lusitania. It was absurd,
of course, He didn't wonder that Arthur Mifflin had treated
the thing as a joke. Good old Arthur, glad he
had made a success. But was it a joke? Who
was it that said? The point of a joke is
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like the point of a needle, so small that it
is apt to disappear entirely when directed straight at one's self.
If anybody else had told him such a limping romance,
he would have laughed himself. Only when you are the
center of a romance, however limping, you see it from
a different angle, of course, told badly it was absurd.
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He could see that, But something away at the back
of his mind told him that it was not altogether
a And yet love didn't come like that in a flash.
You might just as well expect a house to spring
into being in a moment, or a ship, or an automobile,
or a table or a He sat up with a jerk.
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In another instant, he would have been asleep. He thought
of bed, but bed seemed a long way off, the
deuce of a way, acres of carpet to be crawled over,
and then the dickens of a climb at the end
of it. Besides undressing, nuisance undressing. That was a nice
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dress the girl had worn on the fourth day out.
Taylor Maid. He liked tailor maid's. He liked all her dresses.
He liked her. Had she liked him? So hard to tell?
If he don't get a chance of speaking. She was dark.
Arthur liked blondes. Arthur was a fool. Good old Arthur
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glad he made a success. Now he could marry if
he liked, if he wasn't so restless, if he didn't
feel that he couldn't stop more than a day in
any place. But would the girl have him? If they
had never spoken? It made it so hard to At
this point Jimmy went to sleep. Chapter three, Mister mc keechern.
(31:25):
At about the time when Jimmy's meditations finally merged themselves
in dreams, a certain mister John mcckeckern, captain of Police,
was seated in the parlor of his uptown villa, reading
He was a man built on a large scale. Everything
about him was large, his hands, his feet, his shoulders,
his chest, and particularly his jaw, which even in his
(31:49):
moments of calm, was aggressive, and which stood out when
anything happened to ruffle him like the ram of a battleship.
In his patrolman days, which had been passed mainly on
the east side, this jaw of his had acquired a
reputation from Park Road to Fourteenth Street. No gang fight, however, absorbing,
(32:10):
could retain the undivided attention of the young blood of
the Bowery when mister mc chechern's jaw hove in sight,
with the rest of his massive person in close attendance.
He was a man who knew no fear and had
gone through disorderly mobs like an east wind. But there
was another side to his character. In fact, that other
(32:30):
side was so large that the rest of him, his
readiness and combat, and his zeal in breaking up public disturbances,
might be said to have been only an offshoot. For
his ambition was as large as his fist and as
aggressive as his jaw. He had entered the force with
a single idea of becoming rich, and had set about
(32:52):
achieving his object with a strenuous vigor that was as
irresistible as his mighty locust stick. Some policemen or born grafters.
Some achieve graft, and some have graft thrust upon them.
Mister mc keecorn had begun by being the first, had
risen to the second, and for some years now had
been a prominent member of the small and hugely prosperous
(33:15):
third class, the class that does not go out seeking graft,
but sits at home and lets graft come to it.
In his search for wealth, he had been content to
abide his time. He did not want the trifling sum
that every New York policeman acquires. His object was something bigger,
and he was prepared to wait for it. He knew
(33:37):
that small beginnings were an annoying but unavoidable preliminary to
all great fortunes. Probably Captain Kidd had started in a
small way. Certainly mister Rockefeller had. He was content to
follow in the footsteps of the masters. A patrolman's opportunities
of amassing wealth are not great. Mister mc keechorn had
(33:58):
made the best of a bad job. He had not
disdained the dollars that came as single spies rather than
in battalions. Until the time should arrive when he might
angle for whales. He was prepared to catch sprats. Much
may be done, even on a small scale, by perseverance.
In those early days, mister mccheckrn's observant eye had not
(34:20):
failed to notice certain peddlers who obstructed the traffic, divers,
tradesmen who did the same by the sidewalk, and of
restaurant keepers, not a few with a distaste for closing
at one o'clock in the morning. His researches in this
field were not unprofitable in a reasonably short space of time.
He had put by the three thousand dollars that were
(34:41):
the price of his promotion to detective sergeant. He did
not like paying three thousand dollars for promotion, but there
must be sinking of capital if an investment is to prosper.
Mister mcckechorn came across and climbed one more step up
the ladder. As detective sergeant, he found his horizon enlarged.
(35:02):
There was more scope for a man of parts. Things
moved more rapidly. The world seemed full of philanthropists anxious
to dress his front and do him other little kindnesses.
Mister mc chechrn was no churl. He let them dress
his front. He accepted the little kindnesses. Presently he found
(35:24):
that he had fifteen thousand dollars to spare for any
small flutter that might take his fancy. Singularly enough, this
was the precise sum necessary to make him a captain.
He became a captain, and it was then that he
discovered that El Dorado was no mere poet's dream, and
that Tom Tidler's ground, where one might stand picking up
(35:46):
gold and silver, was as definite a locality as Brooklyn
or the Bronx. At last, after years of patient waiting,
he stood like Moses on the mountain, looking down into
the promised land he had come to, where the big
money was. The captain was now reading the little note book,
wherein he kept a record of his investments, which were
(36:08):
numerous and varied. That the contents were satisfactory was obvious
at a glance. The smile on his face and the
reposeful position of his jaw were proof enough of that.
There were notes relating to house property, railroad shares, and
a dozen other profitable things. He was a rich man.
(36:28):
This was a fact that was entirely unsuspected by his neighbors,
with whom he maintained somewhat distant relations, accepting no invitations
and giving none. For mister mc keechern was playing a
big game. Other eminent buccaneers in his walk of life
had been content to be rich men in a community
where moderate means were the rule. But about mister mc keechern,
(36:51):
there was a touch of the napoleonic. He meant to
get into society, and the society he had selected was
that of England. Other people had noted the fact which
had impressed itself very firmly on the policeman's mind, that
between England and the United States there are three thousand
miles of deep water. In the United States. He would
(37:13):
be a retired police captain in England, an American gentleman
of large and independent means with a beautiful daughter. That
was the ruling impulse in his life, his daughter, Mollie.
Though if he had been a bachelor, he certainly would
not have been satisfied to pursue a humble career aloof
(37:33):
from graft On the other hand, if it had not
been for Molly, he would not have felt as he
gathered in his dishonest wealth that he was conducting a
sort of holy war. Ever since his wife had died
in his detective sergeant days, leaving him with a year
old daughter, his ambitions have been inseparably connected with Molly.
(37:55):
All his thoughts were on the future. This New York
life was only a preparation for the splendors to come.
He spent not a dollar unnecessarily when Molly was home
from school. They lived together simply and quietly in the
small house, which Molly's taste made so comfortable. The neighbors,
(38:15):
knowing his profession and seeing the modest scale in which
he lived, told one another that here, at any rate,
was a policeman whose hands were clean of graft. They
did not know of the stream that poured, week by
week and year by year into his bank, to be
diverted at intervals into the most profitable channels until the
(38:37):
time should come for the great change. Economy was his motto.
The expenses of his home were kept within the bounds
of his official salary. All extras went to swell his savings.
He closed his book with a contented sigh and lighted
another cigar. Cigars were his only personal luxury. He drank nothing,
(38:59):
ate the simplest food, and made a suit of clothes
last for quite an unusual length of time, but no
passion for economy could make him deny himself smoke. He
sat on, thinking it was very late, but he did
not feel ready for bed. A great moment had arrived
in his affairs. For days, Wall Street had been undergoing
(39:22):
one of its periodic fits of jumpiness. There had been
rumors and counter roomors, until finally, from the confusion there
had soared up like a rocket. The one particular stock
in which he was most largely interested he had unloaded
that morning, and the result had left him slightly dizzy.
The main point to which his mind clung was that
(39:44):
the time had come at last. He could make the
great change now, at any moment that suited him. He
was blowing clouds of smoke and gloating over this fact
when the door opened, admitting a bull terrier, a bulldog,
and in the wake of the procession a girl in
a kimono and red slippers. End of Part one
Part one of The Intrusion of Jimmy by P. G. Woodhouse.
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit
LibriVox dot O r G. Narrated by Mark Douglas Nelson.
Chapter one, Jimmy makes a Bet. The main smoking room
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of the Strollers Club had been filling for the last
half hour and was now nearly full. In many ways,
the Strollers, though not the most magnificent, is the pleasantest
club in New York. Its ideas are comfort without pomp,
and it is given over after eleven o'clock at night,
mainly to the stage. Everybody is young, clean shaven, and
(00:48):
full of conversation, and the conversation strikes a purely professional note.
Everybody in the room on this July night had come
from the theater. Most of those present had been acting,
but a certain number had been to the opening performance
of the latest Better Than Raffles play. There had been
something of a boom that season in dramas whose heroes
(01:10):
appealed to the public more pleasantly across the footlights than
they might have done in real life. In the play
that had opened to night. Arthur Mifflin, an exemplary young
man off the stage, had been warmly applauded for a
series of actions which performed anywhere except in the theater,
would certainly have debarred him from meaning a member of
(01:30):
the Storers or any other club. In faultless evening dress,
with a debonair smile on his face, he had broken
open a safe, stolen bonds and jewelry to a large amount,
and escaped without a blush of shame via the window.
He had foiled a detective through four acts and held
up a band of pursuers with a revolver. A large
(01:52):
audience had intimated complete approval throughout. It's a hit, all right,
said somebody through the smoke. These near raffles plays always are,
grumbled Willet, who played bluff Fathers in musical comedy a
few years ago. They would have been scared to death
(02:12):
of putting on a show with a crook as a hero.
Now it seems to me the public doesn't want anything else,
not that they know what they do want, he concluded mournfully.
The Belle of Boulogne, in which will it sustained the
role of cyrus K Higgs, a Chicago millionaire, was slowly
fading away on a diet of paper, and this possibly
(02:35):
prejudiced him. Rakes, the character actor, changed the subject. If
Will at once got started on the wrongs of the
ill fated Bell, general conversation would become impossible. Willet, denouncing
the stupidity of the public as purely a monologue artiste.
I saw Jimmy Pitt at the show, said Rakes. Everybody
(02:58):
displayed interest Jimmy Pitt. When did he come back? I
thought he was in Italy. He came on the Lusitania.
I suppose she docked this morning, Jimmy Pitt, said Sutton
of the Majestic Theater. How long has he been away?
Last I saw of him was at the opening of
The Outsider at the Astore. That's a couple of months ago.
(03:21):
He's been traveling in Europe, I believe, said Rakes. Lucky
beggar to be able to I wish I could Sutton
knocked off the ash of his cigar. I envy Jimmy,
he said, I don't know any one I'd rather be.
He's got much more money than any man except a
professional plute has any right to He is as strong
(03:43):
as an ox. I shouldn't say he'd ever had anything
worse than measles in his life. He's got no relations,
and he isn't married. Sutton, who has been married three times,
spoke with some feeling. He's a good chap Jimmy, said Rakes. Yes,
(04:04):
said Arthur Mifflin. Yes, Jimmy is a good chap. I've
known him for years. I was at college with him.
He hasn't got my brilliance of intellect, but he has
some wonderfully fine qualities. For one thing, I should say
he had put more dead beats on their legs again
than half the men in New York put together, well,
(04:25):
growled Willet, whom the misfortunes of the bell had soured.
What's there in that? It's mighty easy to do the
philanthropist act when you're next door to a millionaire, Yes,
said Mifflin warmly. But it's not so easy when you're
getting thirty dollars a week on a newspaper. When Jimmy
was a reporter on the news, there used to be
(04:46):
a whole crowd of fellows just living on him. Not
borrowing the occasional dollar, mind you, but living on him,
sleeping on his sofa and staying to breakfast. It made
me mad. I used to ask him why he's stood
for it. He said there was nowhere else for them
to go, and he thought he could see them through
all right, which he did, though I don't see how
(05:08):
he managed it. On thirty a week, if a man's
fool enough to be an easy mark, began Willett. Oh
cut it out, said Rakes. We don't want anybody knocking
Jimmy here. All the same, said Sutton, it seems to
me that it was mighty lucky that he came into
(05:28):
that money. You can't keep open house forever. On thirty
a week. By the way, Arthur, how was that? I
heard it was his uncle. It wasn't his uncle, said Mifflin.
It was by way of being a romance of sorts.
I believe fellow who had been in love with Jimmy's
mother years ago, went west, made a pile and left
(05:50):
it to missus Pitt or her children. She had been
dead some time when that happened. Jimmy, of course, hadn't
a notion of what was coming to him. When suddenly
he got a listener's letter asking him to call. He
rolled round and found that there was about five hundred
thousand dollars just waiting for him to spend it. Jimmy
(06:10):
Pitt had now definitely ousted loved the Cracksman as a
topic of conversation. Everybody present knew him. Most of them
had known him in his newspaper days, and though every
man there would have perished rather than admit it, they
were grateful to Jimmy for being exactly the same to
them now that he could sign a check for half
a million as he had been on the old thirty
(06:32):
a week basis. Inherited wealth, of course, does not make
a young man nobler or more admirable, but the young
man does not always know this. Jimmy's had a queer life,
said Mifflin. He's been pretty much everything in his time.
Did you know he was on the stage before he
took up newspaper work, only on the road. I believe
(06:56):
he got tired of it and cut it out. That's
always been his trouble. He wouldn't settle down to anything.
He studied law at Yale, but he never kept it up.
After he left the stage, he moved all over the
States without a cent, picking up any odd job he
could get. He was a waiter once for a couple
of days, but they fired him for breaking plates. Then
(07:19):
he got a job in a jeweler's shop. I believe
he's a bit of an expert on jewels. At another time,
he made a hundred dollars by staying three rounds against
Kid Brady when the kid was touring the country after
he got the championship away from Jimmy Garwin. The kid
was offering a hundred to anyone who could last three
rounds with him. Jimmy did it on his head. He
(07:41):
was the best amateur of his weight I ever saw.
The kid wanted him to take up scrapping seriously, but
Jimmy wouldn't have stuck to anything long enough in those days.
He is one of those gypsies of the world. He
was never really happy unless he was on the move,
and he doesn't seem to have altered since he came
into his money. Well, he can afford to keep on
(08:03):
the move now, said Rakes. I wish I did you
ever hear about Jimmy and Mifflin was beginning when the
odyssey of Jimmy Pitt was interrupted by the opening of
the door and the entrance of Ulysses in person, Jimmy
Pitt was a young man of medium height, whose great
breadth and depth of chest made him look shorter than
(08:25):
he really was. His jaw was square and protruded slightly,
and this, combined with a certain athletic jauntiness of carriage
and a pair of piercing brown eyes very much like
those of a bull terrier, gave him an air of aggressiveness,
which belied his character. He was not aggressive. He had
the good nature as well as the eyes of a
(08:47):
bull terrier. Also he possessed when stirred, all the bull
terrier's dogged determination. There were shouts of welcome, Hello, Jimmy,
When did you get back? Come and sit down? Plenty
of room over here? Where is my wandering boy? Tonight waiter?
What's yours? Jimmy? Jimmy dropped into his seat and yawned, Well,
(09:12):
he said, how goes it? Hullo Rakes, weren't you at
love the cracksman? I thought I saw you, Hullo Arthur,
congratulate you. You spoke your piece nicely, Thanks, said Mifflin.
We were just talking about you, Jimmy. You came on
the Lusitania. I suppose she didn't break the record this time,
(09:32):
said Sutton. A somewhat pensive look came into Jimmy's eyes.
She came much too quick for me, he said. I
don't see why they want to rip along at that pace.
He went on hurriedly. I like to have a chance
of enjoying the sea air. I know that sea air,
(09:54):
murmured Mifflin. Jimmy looked up quickly. What are you babbling about, Arthur,
I said nothing, replied Miflin, suavely. What did you think
of the show tonight, Jimmy asked Rakes. I liked it,
Arthur was fine. I can't make out, though, why all
this incense is being burned at the feet of the cracksman.
(10:16):
To judge by some of the plays they produce. Now,
you think that a man had only to be a
successful burglar to become a national hero. One of these
days we shall have Arthur playing Charles Peace to a
cheering house. It is the tribute, said Mifflin, that bone
headedness pays to brains. It takes brains to be a
successful cracksman. Unless the gray matter is surging about in
(10:39):
your cerebrum as in mine, you can't hope Jimmy leaned
back in his chair and spoke calmly, but with decision.
Any man of ordinary intelligence, he said, could break into
a house. Mifflin jumped up and began to gesticulate. This
was heresy, my good man, What absolute I could, said Jimmy,
(11:04):
lighting a cigarette. There was a roar of laughter and approval.
For the past few weeks, during the rehearsals of Love
the Cracksman, Arthur Mifflin had disturbed the peace at the
Strollers with his theories on the art of burglary. This
was his first really big part, and he had soaked
himself in it. He had read up the literature of burglary.
(11:25):
He had talked with men from Pickerton's. He had expounded
his views nightly to his brother's strollers, preaching the delicacy
and difficulty of cracking a crib till his audience had rebelled.
It charmed the strollers to find Jimmy, obviously of his
own initiative, and not to be suspected of having been
suborn to the task by themselves treading with a firm
(11:46):
foot on the expert's favorite corn. Within five minutes of
their meeting. You, said Arthur, Mifflin with scorn. I you
why you couldn't break an to an egg unless it
was a poached one. What'll you bet? Said Jimmy. The
strollers began to sit up and take notice. The magic
(12:10):
word bet when uttered in that room had fairly failed
to add a zest to life. They looked expectantly at
Arthur Mifflin. Go to bed, Jimmy, said the portrayer of cracksmen.
I'll come with you and tuck you in a nice
strong cup of tea in the morning, and you won't
know there has ever been anything the matter with you.
(12:32):
A howl of disapproval rose from the company. Indignant voices
accused Arthur Mifflin of having a yellow streak. Encouraging voices
urged him not to be a quitter. See they scorn you,
said Jimmy, and rightly be a man, Arthur. What'll you bet?
Mister Mifflin regarded him with pity. You don't know what
(12:56):
you're up against, Jimmy, he said, You're half a century
behind the times. You have an idea that all a
burglar needs is a mask, a blue chin, and dark lantern.
I tell you he requires a highly specialized education. I've
been talking to these detective fellows, and I know now
take your case, you worm. Have you a thorough knowledge
(13:19):
of chemistry, physics, toxicology, sure electricity, and microscopy. You have
discovered my secret? Can you use an oxyacettle in blowpipe?
I never travel without one? What do you know about
the administration of anesthetics? Practically everything? It is one of
(13:39):
my favorite hobbies. Can you make soup? Soup? Soup, said
mister Mifflin firmly. Jimmy raised his eyebrows. Does an architect
make bricks? He said? I leave the rough preliminary work
to my core of assistance. They make my soup. You
(14:01):
mustn't think Jimmy's one of your common yeggs, said Sutton.
He's at the top of his profession. That's how he
made his money. I never did believe that legacy story, Jimmy, said.
Mister Miflin. Couldn't crack a child's money box, Jimmy couldn't
open a sardine tin. Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. What'll you bet?
(14:25):
He said again, Come on, Arthur, you're earning a very
good salary. What'll you bet? Make it? A dinner for
all present? Suggested Rakes, a canny person who believed in
turning the wayside happenings of life when possible to his
personal profit. The suggestion was well received, all right, said Mifflin.
(14:48):
How many of us are there? One, two, three, four?
Loser buys a dinner for twelve, A good dinner, interpolated
Rakes softly. A good dinner, said Jimmy. Very well. How
long do you give me, Arthur? How long do you want?
There ought to be a time limit, said Rakes. It
(15:10):
seems to me that a flyer like Jimmy ought to
be able to manage it at short notice. Why not
to night, nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn't crack a
crib tonight, it's up to him. That suit you, Jimmy perfectly,
will it interposed? Will it? Had been endeavoring to drown
his sorrows all the evening, and the fact was a
(15:32):
little noticeable in his speech. See here he said, how's
Jimmy going to prove he's done it? Personally? I can
take his word, said Mifflin. That'd be hanged for a tale,
oh as to prevent him saying he's done it, whether
he has or not. The strollers looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it
(15:55):
was Jimmy's affair. Why you'd get your dinner in any case,
said Jimmy. A dinner from any host would smell is sweet?
Will it persisted with muddled obstinacy? Ash, that's not point.
It's principle of thing. Have this thing square and above board.
(16:16):
I say. That's what I say, and very creditable to
you being able to say it, said Jimmy, cordially. See
if you can manage truly rural. What I say is
this Jimmy's a faker, and what I say is what's
prevent him from saying he's done it when he hasn't
(16:36):
done it. That'll be all right, said Jimmy. I'm going
to bury a brass tube with the stars and stripes
in it under the carpet. Will it? Waved his hand.
That's quis factory, he said, with dignity. Nothing more to
say or a better idea, said Jimmy. I'll carve a
(16:57):
big jay on the inside of the front door. Then
anybody who likes can make inquiries next day. Well, I'm
off home. Glad it's all settled. Anybody coming my way, Yes,
said Arthur Mifflin. We'll walk first nights always make me
as jumpy as a cat. If I don't walk my
legs off, I shan't get to sleep tonight at all.
(17:20):
If you think I'm going to help you walk your
legs off, my lad, you're mistaken. I propose to stroll
gently home and go to bed. Every little bit helps,
said Mifflin. Come along, you want to keep an eye
on Jimmy, Arthur, said Sutton. He'll sand bag you and
lift your watch as soon as look at you. I
(17:42):
believe he's our Seene Lupin in disguise Chapter two Pyramus,
and thisby the two men turned up the street. They
walked in silence. Arthur Mifflin was going over in his
mind such outstanding events of the evening, as he remembered
the nervousness, the relief of finding that he was gripping
(18:04):
his audience, the growing conviction that he had made good,
while Jimmy seemed to be thinking his own private thoughts.
They had gone some distance before either spoke. Who is she?
Jimmy asked Mifflin. Jimmy came out of his thoughts with
a start. What's that? Who is she? I don't know
(18:27):
what you mean. Yes, you do the Sea Air. Who
is she? I don't know, said Jimmy, simply, you don't know. Well,
what's her name? I don't know? Doesn't the Lusitanius still
print a passenger list? She does, and you couldn't find
(18:47):
out her name in five days. No, and that's the
man who thinks he can burgle a house, said Mifflin despairingly.
They had arrived now at the building, on the second
floor of which was Jimmy's flat. Coming in, said Jimmy, Well,
I was rather thinking of pushing on as far as
(19:09):
the park. I tell you, I feel all on wires.
Come in and smoke a cigar. You've got all night
before you if you want to do marathons. I haven't
seen you for a couple of months. I want you
to tell me all the news. There isn't any nothing
happens in New York. The papers say things do, but
(19:29):
they don't. However, I'll come in. It seems to me
that you're the man with the news. Jimmy fumbled with
his latch key. You're a bright sort of burglar, said
Mifflin disparagingly. Why don't you use your oxy acetylene blowpipe?
Do you realize my boy, that you've let yourself in
(19:50):
for buying a dinner for twelve hungry men. Next week
in the cold light of the morning, when reason returns
to her throne, that'll come home to you. I haven't
done anything of the sort, said Jimmy, unlocking the door.
Don't tell me you really mean to try it. What
else do you think I was going to do? But
(20:12):
you can't. You would get caught for a certainty. And
what are you going to do then say it was
all a joke. Suppose they fill you full of bullet holes,
ny sort of fool. You'll look appealing to some outraged
householder's sense of humor while he pumps you full of
lead with a colt. These are the risks of the profession.
(20:33):
You ought to know that, Arthur, Think what you went
through to night. Arthur Mifflin looked at his friend with
some uneasiness. He knew how very reckless Jimmy could be
when he had set his mind on accomplishing anything, since
under the stimulus of a challenge, he ceased to be
a reasoning being amenable to argument, and in the present case,
(20:54):
he knew that Willett's words had driven the challenge home
Jimmy was not the man to sit still under the
charge of being a faker, no matter whether his accuser
had been sober or drunk. Jimmy, meanwhile, had produced whiskey
and cigars. Now he was lying on his back on
the lounge, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. Well, said
(21:17):
Arthur Mifflin at length. Well, what what I meant was,
is this silence to be permanent? Or are you going
to begin shortly to amuse, elevate, and instruct Something's happened
to you. Jimmy, there was a time when you were
a bright little chap, a fellow of infinite jest, of
most excellent fancy. Where be your jibes, now, your gambols,
(21:40):
your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to
set the table in a roar when you are paying
for the dinner. You remind me more of a deaf
mute celebrating the fourth of July with noiseless powder than
anything else on earth. Wake up, or I shall go. Jimmy,
we were practically boys together. Tell me about this girl,
(22:02):
the girl you loved and were idiot enough to lose.
Jimmy drew a deep breath, very well, said Mifflin, complacently, sigh.
If you like, it's better than nothing. Jimmy sat up. Yes,
dozens of times, said Mifflin. What do you mean? You
(22:22):
were just going to ask me if I had ever
been in love? Weren't you? I wasn't because I know
you haven't. You have no soul. You don't know what
love is. Have it your own way, said Mifflin, resignedly.
Jimmy bumped back on the sofa. I don't either, he said,
that's the trouble. Miflin looked interested. I know, he said.
(22:49):
You've got that strange premonitory fluttering when the heart seems
to thrill within you, like some baby birds singing its
first song, when oh cut it out, When you ask
yourself timidly is it? Can it really be? And answer
shyly no, Yes, I believe it is. I've been through
(23:09):
it dozens of times. It is a recognized early symptom.
Unless prompt measures are taken, it will develop into something acute.
In these matters. Stand on your uncle, Arthur. He knows
you make me sick. Jimmy retorted, you have our ear,
said Mifflin. Kindly tell me all. There is nothing to
(23:32):
tell don't lie, James, Well, practically nothing that's better. It
was like this, good Jimmy wriggled himself into a more
comfortable position and took a sip from his glass. I
didn't see her until the second day out. I know
(23:53):
that second day out, Well, we didn't really meet at all,
just how to be going to the same spot. Eh.
As a matter of fact, it was like this, like
a fool, I'd bought a second class ticket. What our
young rockerbilt Astergould, the boy millionaire traveling second class? Why
(24:17):
I had an idea it would be better fun. Everybody
so much more cheery in the second cabin. You get
to know people so much quicker. Nine trips out of ten,
I much rather go second. And this was the tenth.
She was in the first cabin, said Jimmy Mifflin clutched
(24:37):
his forehead. Wait, he cried. This reminds me of something
something in Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet. No, I've got it,
Pyramis and thisby I don't see the slightest resemblance. Read
Your Midsummer Night's Dream, Pyramis, and thisby says the story
did talk through the chink of a wall. Quoted Mifflin,
(25:01):
we didn't. Don't be so literal. You talked across a railing.
We didn't. Did you mean to say you didn't talk
at all? We didn't say a single word. Mifflin shook
his head sadly. I give you up, he said, I
thought you were a man of enterprise. What did you do?
(25:24):
Jimmy sighed softly. I used to stand and smoke against
the railing opposite the barber shop, and she used to
walk round the deck, and you used to stutter. I
would look in her direction, sometimes, corrected Jimmy, with dignity.
Don't quibble. You stared at her. You behave like a
(25:47):
common rubber neck, and you know it. I am no prude, James,
but I feel compelled to say that I consider your
conduct that of a libertine. Used she to walk alone generally,
and now you love her. Eh. You went on board
that ship, happy, careless, heart free. You came off it,
(26:08):
grave and saddened. Thenceforth, for you the world could contain
but one woman, and her you had lost. Mifflin groaned
in a hollow and bereaved manner, and took a sip
from his glass to buoy him up. Jimmy moved restlessly
on the sofa. Do you believe in love at first sight?
(26:30):
He asked fatuously. He was in the mood when a
man says things the memory of which makes him wake
up hot all over for nights to come. I don't
see what first sight's got to do with it, said Mifflin.
According to your own statement, you stood and glared at
the girl for five days without letting up for a moment.
(26:50):
I can quite imagine that you might glare yourself into
love with any one by the end of that time.
I can't see myself settling down, said Jimmy thoughtfully. And
until you feel that you want to settle down, I
suppose you can't be really in love. I was saying
practically that about you at the club just before you
(27:11):
came in. My somewhat neat expression was that you were
one of the gypsies of the world. By George, You're
quite right, I always am. I suppose it's having nothing
to do. When I was on the news, I was
never like this. You weren't on the news long enough
to get tired of it. I feel now I can't
(27:35):
stay in a place more than a week. It's having
this money, that does it. I suppose New York, said Mifflin,
is full of obliging persons who will be delighted to
relieve you of the incubus. Well, James, I shall leave you.
I feel more like bed now. By the way, I
suppose you lost sight of this girl when you landed. Yes, well,
(27:58):
there aren't so many girls in the United States. Only
twenty million or is it forty million? Something small. All
you've got to do is search around a bit. Good Night,
good night, mister Mifflin clattered down the stairs. A minute later,
the sound of his name being called loudly from the
street brought Jimmy to the window. Mifflin was standing on
(28:21):
the pavement below, looking up. Jimmy, what's the matter now?
I forgot to ask? Was she a blond? What was
she a blonde? Yelled Mifflin. No, snapped Jimmy. Dark eh
bawled Mifflin, making night hideous, Yes, said Jimmy, shutting the window. Jimmy,
(28:45):
the window went up again. Well me for blondes go
to bed very well. Good night, good night. Jimmy withdrew
his head and sat down in the chair. Mifflin had
vacanate a moment later, he rose and switched off the light.
It was pleasanter to sit and think in the dark.
(29:07):
His thoughts wandered off in many channels, but always came
back to the girl on the Lusitania. It was absurd,
of course, He didn't wonder that Arthur Mifflin had treated
the thing as a joke. Good old Arthur, glad he
had made a success. But was it a joke? Who
was it that said? The point of a joke is
(29:29):
like the point of a needle, so small that it
is apt to disappear entirely when directed straight at one's self.
If anybody else had told him such a limping romance,
he would have laughed himself. Only when you are the
center of a romance, however limping, you see it from
a different angle, of course, told badly it was absurd.
(29:54):
He could see that, But something away at the back
of his mind told him that it was not altogether
a And yet love didn't come like that in a flash.
You might just as well expect a house to spring
into being in a moment, or a ship, or an automobile,
or a table or a He sat up with a jerk.
(30:15):
In another instant, he would have been asleep. He thought
of bed, but bed seemed a long way off, the
deuce of a way, acres of carpet to be crawled over,
and then the dickens of a climb at the end
of it. Besides undressing, nuisance undressing. That was a nice
(30:35):
dress the girl had worn on the fourth day out.
Taylor Maid. He liked tailor maid's. He liked all her dresses.
He liked her. Had she liked him? So hard to tell?
If he don't get a chance of speaking. She was dark.
Arthur liked blondes. Arthur was a fool. Good old Arthur
(30:59):
glad he made a success. Now he could marry if
he liked, if he wasn't so restless, if he didn't
feel that he couldn't stop more than a day in
any place. But would the girl have him? If they
had never spoken? It made it so hard to At
this point Jimmy went to sleep. Chapter three, Mister mc keechern.
(31:25):
At about the time when Jimmy's meditations finally merged themselves
in dreams, a certain mister John mcckeckern, captain of Police,
was seated in the parlor of his uptown villa, reading
He was a man built on a large scale. Everything
about him was large, his hands, his feet, his shoulders,
his chest, and particularly his jaw, which even in his
(31:49):
moments of calm, was aggressive, and which stood out when
anything happened to ruffle him like the ram of a battleship.
In his patrolman days, which had been passed mainly on
the east side, this jaw of his had acquired a
reputation from Park Road to Fourteenth Street. No gang fight, however, absorbing,
(32:10):
could retain the undivided attention of the young blood of
the Bowery when mister mc chechern's jaw hove in sight,
with the rest of his massive person in close attendance.
He was a man who knew no fear and had
gone through disorderly mobs like an east wind. But there
was another side to his character. In fact, that other
(32:30):
side was so large that the rest of him, his
readiness and combat, and his zeal in breaking up public disturbances,
might be said to have been only an offshoot. For
his ambition was as large as his fist and as
aggressive as his jaw. He had entered the force with
a single idea of becoming rich, and had set about
(32:52):
achieving his object with a strenuous vigor that was as
irresistible as his mighty locust stick. Some policemen or born grafters.
Some achieve graft, and some have graft thrust upon them.
Mister mc keecorn had begun by being the first, had
risen to the second, and for some years now had
been a prominent member of the small and hugely prosperous
(33:15):
third class, the class that does not go out seeking graft,
but sits at home and lets graft come to it.
In his search for wealth, he had been content to
abide his time. He did not want the trifling sum
that every New York policeman acquires. His object was something bigger,
and he was prepared to wait for it. He knew
(33:37):
that small beginnings were an annoying but unavoidable preliminary to
all great fortunes. Probably Captain Kidd had started in a
small way. Certainly mister Rockefeller had. He was content to
follow in the footsteps of the masters. A patrolman's opportunities
of amassing wealth are not great. Mister mc keechorn had
(33:58):
made the best of a bad job. He had not
disdained the dollars that came as single spies rather than
in battalions. Until the time should arrive when he might
angle for whales. He was prepared to catch sprats. Much
may be done, even on a small scale, by perseverance.
In those early days, mister mccheckrn's observant eye had not
(34:20):
failed to notice certain peddlers who obstructed the traffic, divers,
tradesmen who did the same by the sidewalk, and of
restaurant keepers, not a few with a distaste for closing
at one o'clock in the morning. His researches in this
field were not unprofitable in a reasonably short space of time.
He had put by the three thousand dollars that were
(34:41):
the price of his promotion to detective sergeant. He did
not like paying three thousand dollars for promotion, but there
must be sinking of capital if an investment is to prosper.
Mister mcckechorn came across and climbed one more step up
the ladder. As detective sergeant, he found his horizon enlarged.
(35:02):
There was more scope for a man of parts. Things
moved more rapidly. The world seemed full of philanthropists anxious
to dress his front and do him other little kindnesses.
Mister mc chechrn was no churl. He let them dress
his front. He accepted the little kindnesses. Presently he found
(35:24):
that he had fifteen thousand dollars to spare for any
small flutter that might take his fancy. Singularly enough, this
was the precise sum necessary to make him a captain.
He became a captain, and it was then that he
discovered that El Dorado was no mere poet's dream, and
that Tom Tidler's ground, where one might stand picking up
(35:46):
gold and silver, was as definite a locality as Brooklyn
or the Bronx. At last, after years of patient waiting,
he stood like Moses on the mountain, looking down into
the promised land he had come to, where the big
money was. The captain was now reading the little note book,
wherein he kept a record of his investments, which were
(36:08):
numerous and varied. That the contents were satisfactory was obvious
at a glance. The smile on his face and the
reposeful position of his jaw were proof enough of that.
There were notes relating to house property, railroad shares, and
a dozen other profitable things. He was a rich man.
(36:28):
This was a fact that was entirely unsuspected by his neighbors,
with whom he maintained somewhat distant relations, accepting no invitations
and giving none. For mister mc keechern was playing a
big game. Other eminent buccaneers in his walk of life
had been content to be rich men in a community
where moderate means were the rule. But about mister mc keechern,
(36:51):
there was a touch of the napoleonic. He meant to
get into society, and the society he had selected was
that of England. Other people had noted the fact which
had impressed itself very firmly on the policeman's mind, that
between England and the United States there are three thousand
miles of deep water. In the United States. He would
(37:13):
be a retired police captain in England, an American gentleman
of large and independent means with a beautiful daughter. That
was the ruling impulse in his life, his daughter, Mollie.
Though if he had been a bachelor, he certainly would
not have been satisfied to pursue a humble career aloof
(37:33):
from graft On the other hand, if it had not
been for Molly, he would not have felt as he
gathered in his dishonest wealth that he was conducting a
sort of holy war. Ever since his wife had died
in his detective sergeant days, leaving him with a year
old daughter, his ambitions have been inseparably connected with Molly.
(37:55):
All his thoughts were on the future. This New York
life was only a preparation for the splendors to come.
He spent not a dollar unnecessarily when Molly was home
from school. They lived together simply and quietly in the
small house, which Molly's taste made so comfortable. The neighbors,
(38:15):
knowing his profession and seeing the modest scale in which
he lived, told one another that here, at any rate,
was a policeman whose hands were clean of graft. They
did not know of the stream that poured, week by
week and year by year into his bank, to be
diverted at intervals into the most profitable channels until the
(38:37):
time should come for the great change. Economy was his motto.
The expenses of his home were kept within the bounds
of his official salary. All extras went to swell his savings.
He closed his book with a contented sigh and lighted
another cigar. Cigars were his only personal luxury. He drank nothing,
(38:59):
ate the simplest food, and made a suit of clothes
last for quite an unusual length of time, but no
passion for economy could make him deny himself smoke. He
sat on, thinking it was very late, but he did
not feel ready for bed. A great moment had arrived
in his affairs. For days, Wall Street had been undergoing
(39:22):
one of its periodic fits of jumpiness. There had been
rumors and counter roomors, until finally, from the confusion there
had soared up like a rocket. The one particular stock
in which he was most largely interested he had unloaded
that morning, and the result had left him slightly dizzy.
The main point to which his mind clung was that
(39:44):
the time had come at last. He could make the
great change now, at any moment that suited him. He
was blowing clouds of smoke and gloating over this fact
when the door opened, admitting a bull terrier, a bulldog,
and in the wake of the procession a girl in
a kimono and red slippers. End of Part one
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