Evening Star Newspaper, May 26, 1929, Page 62

THE SUXDAY' STAR, WASHINGTON, OR NOTHING---By P. G. Wodehouse (Coperight. 1929, by North American Newspaper Alliance and Metropolitan Newspaper Service.) Synopsis of Precedine Installments. Jobn Carroll goes to London to meet Pa- | tricia Wyvern, whom he loves. He hoves to | find courage to tell her so. He is accom- panied by his cousin. Hugo. Carmody. wro. according to Patricia, has just proposed marriage. fon of his cousin's fascinations, | but the thought of anybos _ (Continued From Yesterday's Star.) | but hir self proposing to Pat lting me. | SIXTH INSTALLMENT. d he COLD hana ciutched at John's heart. He had not a high opin- | Yes, he did r me? For you.” do you mean, for yvou. He asked me to | +1 very eloquent he was, | :"who heard him— and there 1aust h: ve been dozens who did—were much in ressed.” She stopped, and. as far as such a | thing is possible at ..~ Mustard Spoon when Baermann's Collegiate Buddies are giving an encore of “My Sweetie Is a Wow,” there was silence. Emotion of one sort or another had deprived | Pat of words, and, as for John, he was feeling as it he could never speak again He had flushed a dusky red, and Ris collar had suddenly become so tight that he had all the sensations of a man who is being garoted. And so powerfully had the shock of this fear- ful revelation affected his mind that his | only coherent thought was a desire to follow Hugo up to the balcony, tear| him limb from limb and scatfer the | fragments into the tables below | Pat was the first to find speech. She | spoke quickly, stormily “I can't understand you, Johnuie. | You never used to be such a jellyfish. You did have a mind of your own once. | But_now . I believe it's living at Rudge all the time that has done it. You've got lazy and flabby. It's turned you into a vegetable. You just loaf about and go on, yvear after year, hav- ing your three fat meals a day and your comfortable rooms and your hot- water bottle at night ... " marry you. . too. Al the po | | “I don’t!” ecried John, stung by this | monstrous charge from the coma that was gripping him. “Well, bed-socks, then” amended Pat. “You've just let yourself be cos- seted and pampered and kept in com- fort till the You that used to be there | has withered away, and you've gone blah. My dear, good Johnnie.” said Pat vehemently, riding over his at- tempt at speech and glaring at him above a small, perky nose whese tip had begun to quiver, even as it had always done when she lost her temper as a child. “My poor, idiotic, flabby, fat-headed Johnie, do you seriously ex- pect a girl to want to marry a.man who hasn't the common, elementary | | | pluck to propose to her for himself and | has to get some one else to do it for | “I'm not laughing at you, Jimmy, you—you chump . . . There's no one on earth I'm fonder of." She paused. But this . .. It—it simply isn’t on the board.” spirit. Silence, tempered by the low | wailing of the Buddy in charge of the | yo saxophone and the unpleasant, howling | of his college friends, who had just | nose no longer quivered, but now it begun to sing the chorus, fell once | was her mouth that did so. more. G opens up a new line of thought,” said Pat, at length. “Our Miss Wyvern appears to have got the wires crossed.” She looked at him meditatively. “It's funny. Hugo seemed so _convinced about the way you felt.” John's collar tightened up another half-inch, but he managed to get his vocal chords working. “He was quite right about the way I felt.” “You mean . “yex” “You mean you're . “Wes."” “But, Johnnie!” “Hang it, are you blind?" cried John, savage from shame and the agony of harrowed feelings, not to mention a col- lar that appeared to have been made for a_man half his size. “Can’t you Don't you know I've always loved Yes, even when you were a . Really?” .. fond of me?” see? you? kid.” “But, Johnnie, Johnmnie; Johnnie!” I knew | reached out across the table and her hand rested on his for a brief instant. “I'm not laughing at you, Johnnie, “Oh, T know. T was a fool. u would simply laugh at me.” Pat's eyes were misty. The tip of her She wheel internal- to laugh at you for? I'm much nearer crying. “I'd do anything in the world rather than hurt you. You must know that. You're the dearest old thing that ever lived. There's no one on earth I'm fonder of.” She paused. “But this . . . it—it simply isn’t on the board.” She was looking at him, furtively, taking advantage of the fact that his face was turned away and his eyes fixed on the broad, swallow-tailed back of Mr. Ben Baermann. It was odd, she felt, all very odd. If she had been asked to describe the sort of man whom one of these days she hoped to marry, the description, curiously enough, would not have been at all unlike dear old Johnnie. He had the right clean, fit look—she knew she could never give a thought to anything but an out- door man—and the straightness and honesty and kindliness that she had come, after moving for some years in a world where they were rare, to look upon as the highest of masculine quali- ties. Nobody could have been farther than John from the little, black-mus- tached dancing-man type that was her particular aversion, and yet . . . well, the idea of b2coming his wife was just simply too absurd, and that was all there was to it. But why? What. then, was wrong with Johnnie? Simply, she felt, the fact that he was Johnnie. Marriage, as she had always envisaged it, was an adven- ture. Poor cozy, solid old Johnnie would have to display quite another side of himself, if such a side existed, before she could regard it as an adventure to marry him. | “That man,” said John, indicating | Mr. Baermann, “looks like a black beetle.” Pat was relieved. If by this re- mark he was indicating that he wished the recent episode to be taken as con- ;:‘luded. she was very willing to oblige im. “Doesn't he?” she said. “I don't | know where they can have dug him up | from. ‘The last time I was here, a year | ago, they had another band, & much better one. I think this place has gone down. I don't like the look of some of these people. What do you think of qugo’s friends?” “They seem all right.” John cast you—you chump. What would I want a moody eye at Miss Molloy, a pris- | greetings were over. D.- C., MAY- 26 1929—PART- 4~ matic vision seen fittully through the crowd. She was laughing, and show- ing in the teeth flashing whiteness. “The T's the prettiest girl I've seen for a long time.” Pat gave an imperceptible start. was suddenly aware of a feeling was remarkably like uneasiness. lurked at the back of her conscious- ness like a small formless cloud. “Oh!" she said. Yes, the feeling was uneasiness. Any other man who, at such a moment, had said those words she suspected of a desire to stir her interest by a ral assumed admiration of another. But not John. He was much too honest. If Johnnie said a thing, he meant it. A quick flicker of concern t h Pat, She was always candid with herself, and she knew quite well that, though she did not want marry him, she regarded John as essentially a piece of personal property. If he had fallen in love with her, that was, of course, a pity. But it would, she realized, be considerably more of a pity, if he ever fell in love with someone else. A Johnnie gone out of her life and assimilated into that of another girl would leave a frightful gap. ‘The Mustard Spoon was one of stufty, overheated pl as m shivered. “Oh!” she said. ‘The music stopped. The floor emptied. Mr. Molloy and his daughter returned to the table. Hugo remained up in the gallery in earnest conversa- tion with his old friend, Ronald Over- bury PFish, a pink-faced young man of small stature and extraordinary solem- nity. He had been at school with Hugo and also at the university. Eton was cntitled to point with pride at both of them, and only had itself to blame if it failed to do so. The same remark ap- plies to Trinity College, Cambridge. From earllest days Hugo had always entertained for R. O. Pish an intense She m;z 0. |and lively admiration, and the thought of being compelled to let his old friend down in this matter of the Hot Spot was doing much to mar an otherwise jovial evening. “I'm most frightfully sorry, Ronnie, old thing,” he said immediately the first aged relative this afternoon about that business, and there’s nothing doing.” “No hope?” “None.” Ronnie Pish surveyed the dancers be- low with a grave eye. He removed the stub of his cigarette from its 11-inch t | holder and recharged that impressive instrument. “Did you reason with the old pest?” “You can’t reason with Uncle Lester.” “I could,” said Mr. Fish. Hugo did not doubt this. Ronnie, in his fon, was capable of any fe “Yes, but the only trouble is,” he explained, “you would have to do it at long range. I asked if I might invite you down to Rudge, and he would have none of it.” Ronnie Fish relapsed into silence. It seemed to Hugo, watching him, that that great brain was busy, but upon to | what train of thought he could not conjecture. “Who are those people you're with?” laces, but, as she | editated upon this possibiiity Pat | he asked at length. “The big chap with the fair hair is my Cousin John. The girl in green is Pat Wyvern. She lives near us.' “And the others? Who's the stately bird with the brushed-back hair, who has every appearance of being just about to address a gathering of con- stituents on some important point of PUHate s ten ed’ Mol i 'S a low nams Molloy— Thos. G. I met him at the fight. He's an American.” “He looks prosperou: “He 1is not so rous, though, as he was before the fight started. I took thirty quid off him.” “Your uncle, from what you have told g‘:’.“u pretty keen on rich men, isn't “All over them.” “Then the thing's simple,” said Ron- nie Fish. “Invite this Mulcahy, or whatever his name is, to Rudge, and invite me at the same time. You'll find that in the ecstasy of getting a million aire on the premises your uncle will forget to make a fuss about my coming. And, once I am in, I can talk this busi- ness over with him. I'll guarantee that i I can get an uninterrupted half hous & moment. The bold simplicil ‘move th{fllnld him. . ““Wha amounts to,” continued Ronnie Pish, “is that your uncle is en- deavoring to do you out of a vast for- I tell you, the Hot Spot is going to be a gold mine! To all practical intents and purposes, he is just as good ;fn.'n( y{mm uk:& I thldl.l e = r pocket. it this out to him, and I shall be et I can’t put the thing through. When would you like me to come down?” “Ronnie,” sald Hugo, “this is abso- lute genius!” He hesitated. He had no wish to discourage his friend, but he desired to be fair. “There's just one thing—would you ha performing at the vill ".lrhlhould enjoy it.” “They're sure to rope thought you and I might dom scene from ‘Julius Caesar’ again. “Ang time,” said Hu - ously, “you can be Brutus.” S “'No, no!” said Ronnie, moved. “Very well. en fix up with this American bloke -nduleu:e: u?c Test to me. Shall I like your uncle?” “No,” said Hugo confidently. “Ah, well,” said Mr. Fish equably, “I dn?en:.t for a moment suppose he'll like k3 arrel (To be continued.) ANSWER TO SATURDAY'S PUZZLE, [COSTA)] ==Y - with the old boy I can easily make him see the light.” A rush of admiration for his friend’s “I sounded theoutstanding brain held Hugo silent for him?" |:Distress was making Pat's silver voice “I didn't!” | almost squeaky. “You can't have done. “You did 5 | T was a horrible kid. I did nothing but “I tell you I did not.” bully you from morning till night.” “You mean you never asked Hugo | *I liked it.” to sound me out?” “But how can you want me to marry “Of course not. Hugo is a meddling, | you? We know ecah other too well. officious idiot, and, if I'd got him here | I've alwa: now, I'd wring his neck.” | of brother. He scowled up at the balcony. Hugo,| There are words in the language that who happened to be looking down at | are like a knell. 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