"Gum! you'll need to. The man behind is a big bug."     

       Billy leaned forward eagerly.     

       "Who is he?"     

       The other shrugged his shoulders.     

       "I don't know. You wouldn't expect a man like that to give himself away."     

       "Then how do you know he's a big bug?"     

       "Precisely," said Psmith. "On what system have you estimated the size of the gentleman's bughood?"     

       The stranger lit a cigar.     

       "By the number of dollars he was ready to put up to have you done in."     

       Billy's eyes snapped.     

       "Oh?" he said. "And which gang has he given the job to?"     

       "I wish I could tell you. He—his agent, that is—came to Bat Jarvis."     

       "The cat-expert?" said Psmith. "A man of singularly winsome personality."     

       "Bat turned the job down."     

       "Why was that?" inquired Billy.     

       "He said he needed the money as much as the next man, but when he found out who he was supposed to lay for, he gave his job the frozen face. Said you were a friend of his and none of his fellows were going to put a finger on you. I don't know what you've been doing to Bat, but he's certainly Willie the Long-Lost Brother with you."     

       "A powerful argument in favour of kindness to animals!" said Psmith.       "Comrade Windsor came into possession of one of Comrade Jarvis's celebrated stud of cats. What did he do? Instead of having the animal made into a nourishing soup, he restored it to its 

 Prev. P 54/165 next