Luck of the Bodkins (37 page)

'Working on him?'

'You know. Clustering round him. Doing him little acts of kindness. Trying to fascinate the old son of a bachelor.' 'Not the least.'

‘I
suppose not. Though how about putting him under some obligation? Saving his life, I mean, or something like that ... Rescuing him from a runaway horse -'

'Reggie!'

Mabel Spence's voice rang out sharply. So did Reggie's. In her excitement, she had clutched at his arm, and those dainty fingers, trained to steely strength by years of osteopathy, seemed to bite into his flesh like pincers.

'I'm sorry,' said Mabel, relaxing her grip, 'I'm sorry. But that sudden flash of intelligence of yours startled me. Reggie, do you know what you've said? A mouthful, no less. That's exactly what we are going to do.'

'Rescue Llewellyn from a runaway horse?' In spite of
a
naturally optimistic disposition and an inherent willingness to try anything once, Reggie seemed dubious. 'Not so dashed easy on board an ocean liner, what?'

'No, no, I mean there is something you can do for Ikey that will make him give you anything you care to ask for. Let's find him and put it up to him right away. He'll probably be in his state-room.'

‘
Yes, but what-?'

‘I’l
l explain as we go.
’

‘
Short of murder, of course?
’

‘
Oh, come along.'

‘
Yes, but-'

Mabel extended a clutching hand.

'Do you want me to pinch your arm again?'

‘
No.'

Then get a move on.'

Mr Llewellyn was not in his state-room, its only occupant at the moment of their arrival being Albert Peasemarch. Albert Peasemarch seemed delighted to see them, and at once made it plain that he would be glad to tell them all about his recent triumphs. But Mabel's way with people who tried to tell her of their triumphs was as short as Lottie Blossom's. Scarcely had the steward begun to touch upon second-class concerts and Bandoleros, when he found himself thrown for a loss. A brief ·Yes, yes' and a courteous word to the effect that at some later date he must be sure to tell her all about it, for she was dying to hear, and Mabel had sent him off in quest of her brother-in-law. And presently Mr Llewellyn appeared, looking agitated. All nervous conspirators look agitated when they have just been informed that a fellow-conspirator wishes to see them immediately upon urgent business.

As he observed Reggie, his agitation became tinged with other emotions. He halted in the doorway, staring offensively. Mabel ignored the stare.

'Come on in, Ikey,' she said, in that admirably brisk way of hers. 'Don't stand there looking like a statue of the Motion Picture Industry Enlightening the World. Take a look up and down the passage and make sure that that steward isn't listening, then step along in and shut the door.'

Mr Llewellyn did as he was directed, but with an ill grace. His air was still that of a man who would shortly require Reggie to be fully explained to him.

'Now, listen, Ikey. I've just been telling Reggie about that necklace of Grayce's that you're going to smuggle through the Customs.'

A banshee-like howl broke from the motion-picture magnate's lips, causing Reggie to wince and frown disapprovingly. 'Don't sing, Llewellyn. Not now. If you must, later.' 'You - you've told him?' Reggie shot his cuffs.

'Yes, Llewellyn, she has told me. I know all, my dear Llewellyn. I am abreast of the whole position of affairs - the necklace, your spiritual agony at the prospect of having to smuggle same and, in short, everything. And in return for certain concessions on your part I have agreed to take the entire assignment off your hands.
’

'What!
’

'I say in return for certain concessions on your part I am willing to take the entire assignment off your hands.
‘
will smuggle that necklace. So perk up, Llewellyn. Clap your hands and jump round in circles and let us see that jolly smile of yours of which everyone speaks so highly.'

There was nothing in the look which Mr Llewellyn was directing at Reggie now to awaken the critical spirit in the latter. It was entirely free from that pop-eyed dislike which the young man had found so offensive in the early stages of this conference. It was, indeed, very much the sort of look the wounded soldier must have directed at Sir Philip Sidney.

'You don't mean that?'

'I do mean that, Llewellyn. In return for certain -'

"What we were talking about this morning, Ikey,' said Mabel. 'Reggie wants a contract to superintend your English sequences.
’

'For three years.
’

'Five years. At a salary of -
’

'Seven hundred and fifty -
’

'A thousand.'

'Of course, yes. How right you are. Much nicer sum.
’
'Rounder.
’

'Exactly. Easier to remember. Pencil in as the salary, therefore, Llewellyn, a weekly one thousand dollars.' 'And none of your options.' 'What,' asked Reggie, 'are options?'

'Never mind,' said Mabel. 'There aren't going to be any in your contract. I know Ikey's options.'

In spite of the gratitude and relief surging so freely within him, Mr Llewellyn could not but offer a feeble resistance to this unholy condition. Whatever soul a motion-picture magnate possesses always revolts against the heretical suggestion of a contract without options.

'No options?' he said wistfully, for he loved the little things.

'Nary a one,' said Mabel.

For a moment Ivor Llewellyn hesitated. But, as he did so, there rose before his eyes a vision. It was the vision of a man who wore a peaked cap and chewed gum, and this man was standing on the dock at New York examining his baggage. And in that baggage there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to bring the frown of censure to the brow of the most exacting Customs inspector. He hesitated no longer.

'Very well,' he said resignedly.

'And now,' said Mabel, 'here's a fountain-pen and here's a sheet of paper. I think we'll have a few brief lines in writing.'

The business deal concluded, the door closed behind them, and Mr Llewellyn left alone to get into his pink pyjamas with the prospect before him of the first peaceful night's rest he had enjoyed since the voyage began, it was Mabel's view that another visit to the boat deck would be agreeable.

To this, however, Reggie, though he yielded to none in his affection for the boat deck, was compelled to demur. His conscience would not permit him to accept the programme as put forward. Tonight he had ceased to be the careless, self-centred young man thinking only of his personal enjoyment. Purged in the holocaust of a mighty love, Reggie Tennyson had become an altruist.

'You pop up there,' he said, 'and I'll join you in a minute.
I
have a slight spot of work to do.'

‘
Work?'

'Diplomatic work. A couple of young hearts to knit together. Poor old Monty Bodkin, largely owing to me, though I acted throughout with the best intentions, has had a bust-up with my cousin Gertrude -'

'The one who doesn't like butterflies?'

That's the baby. Largely owing to me, though, as I say, my intentions were admirable, she has got it in to her nut that Monty is a butterfly. Before sauntering on boat decks, I must correct this view. Can't leave poor old Monty wallowing in the soup, what?'

'Not even till tomorrow?'

'Not even till tomorrow,' said Reggie firmly. 'I couldn't be easy in my mind and give of my best on that boat deck if I didn't perform this act of kindness. The fact of the matter is, all this happy ending stuff has left me so full of sweetness and light that I want to go spreading it.'

'Well, don't be long.'

'Expect me in five minutes. Unless I have difficulty in locating Gertrude. But no doubt I shall find her in the lounge. I've noticed that the tendency of the female is rather to flock there at this hour.'

His intuition had not led him astray. Gertrude was in the lounge. She was sitting in a corner with Miss Passenger, the captain of the All England Ladies' Hockey Team, and Miss Purdue, the vice-captain.

She eyed him coldly as he approached, for, as has been indicated, she was not pleased with Reggie. Not to put too fine a point upon it, she thought Reggie a mess.

'Well?' she said haughtily.

A man who has recently had a Lottie Blossom saying that word to him from between clenched teeth is scarcely likely to quail before the 'Well?
’
of a mere female cousin.

'Step out of the frame, Mona Lisa,' said Reggie briskly. 'I want a couple of words with you.'

And attaching himself to her hand, he scooped her from her seat and drew her apart.

'Now then, young G.,
’
he said sternly, "what's all this rot about you and Monty?'

Gertrude stiffened.

'I don't want to talk about it.
’

Reggie clicked his tongue impatiently.

‘
What you want to talk about and what you're going to talk about are two very different things. And, anyway, you don't have to talk - all you've got to do is just drink in what I'm going to say. Gertrude, you're an ass. You're all wrong, you unhappy chump. If ever a girl misjudged a bloke, you have misjudged poor old Monty.
’

‘
I-'

'Don't talk,' said Reggie.
‘
Listen.' He spoke urgently. Not for a moment did he forget that time was of the essence. By now, Mabel Spence would be up on the boat deck, leaning on the rail in the starlight. If ever a man proposed to make it snappy, it was Reginald Tennyson. That's all you've got to do - listen. Here are the facts
in re
Monty. Let them sink in.'

Nobody could have given a clearer exposition of the position of affairs than he proceeded to do. Although, as has been said, he was in a hurry; although, as he spoke, the vision of Mabel Spence alone on the boat deck kept rising before him; he did not scamp his tale. Conscientiously omitting nothing, he took her step by step through all that had occurred.

'So there you are,' he concluded. 'You'll find Monty in his state-room. If he has not yet disrobed, go in and fling yourself on his neck. If he has already retired to rest, shout "Bung-o 1
‘‘
through the keyhole and tell him it's all right and will he meet you on the boat deck first thing tomorrow for the big reconciliation. And now -'

Gertrude Butterwick laughed a low, hard, bitter, sneering laugh.

'Oh?'
she said.

‘
What the hell do you mean, "Oh?"' demanded Reggie with pardonable annoyance. This interview, to which in the prospect he had mentally allowed five minutes, had already occupied nearer ten, and Mabel Spence was still gazing at the stars in solitude. It was the last moment when he wanted cousins saying 'Oh?' to him.

Gertrude laughed again.

‘I
t's a splendid story,
’
she said. 'I particularly liked that bit about Miss Blossom stealing the mouse. I wouldn't have thought you and Monty were so clever.'

Reggie gaped. Incredulity was a
’
thing for which he had not budgeted.

'You aren't suggesting I'm lying, are you?
’

'Well, don't you usually?'

'But, good gosh, all this is true to the last drop.'

‘
Oh?'

'You mean you don't believe it?
’

‘
Is it likely that I would believe anything you told me, after all I've found out about you? Good night. I'm going to bed.
’
'Yes, but half a second -
’
‘
Good night!'

Gertrude swept haughtily from the lounge. In the corner where she had been sitting, Miss Purdue looked at Miss Passenger, eyebrows raised.

‘
Butterwick seems off her oats,' said Miss Purdue.

Miss Passenger sighed.

‘
Butterwick is in love. And the man has let her down, poor girl.' ·He has?'

‘
With a thud. Poor old Butterwick!'