Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
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Not Be Others Besides Lord Emsworth In The Garden; And It
Occurred To Him That, Especially After His Reputation For
Eccentric Conduct Had Been So Firmly Established By His
Misfortunes That Night In The Hall, It Might Cause Comment Should
He Appear Before Them Carrying A Shoe.
Ashe Took The Shoe And, Doing So, Understood What Before Had
Puzzled Him. Across The Toe Was A Broad Splash Of Red Paint.
Though He Had Nothing Else To Go On, He Saw All. The Shoe He Held
Was A Female Shoe. His Own Researches In The Museum Had Made Him
Aware Of The Presence There Of Red Paint. It Was Not Difficult To
Build Up On These Data A Pretty Accurate Estimate Of The Position
Of Affairs.
"Come With Me," Said Baxter.
He Left The Room. Ashe Followed Him.
In The Garden Lord Emsworth, Garden Fork In Hand, Was Dealing
Summarily With A Green Young Weed That Had Incautiously Shown Its
Head In The Middle Of A Flower Bed. He Listened To Baxter's
Statement With More Interest Than He Usually Showed In Anybody's
Statements. He Resented The Loss Of The Scarab, Not So Much On
Account Of Its Intrinsic Worth As Because It Had Been The Gift Of
His Friend Mr. Peters.
"Indeed!" He Said, When Baxter Had Finished. "Really? Dear Me!
It Certainly Seems--It Is Extremely Suggestive. You Are Certain
There Was Red Paint On This Shoe?"
"I Have It With Me. I Brought It On Purpose To Show You." He
Looked At Ashe, Who Stood In Close Attendance. "The Shoe!"
Lord Emsworth Polished His Glasses And Bent Over The Exhibit.
Chapter 9 Pg 154
"Ah!" He Said. "Now Let Me Look At--This, You Say, Is The--Just
So; Just So! Just--My Dear Baxter, It May Be That I Have Not
Examined This Shoe With Sufficient Care, But--Can You Point Out
To Me Exactly Where This Paint Is That You Speak Of?"
The Efficient Baxter Stood Staring At The Shoe With Wild, Fixed
Stare. Of Any Suspicion Of Paint, Red Or Otherwise, It Was
Absolutely And Entirely Innocent!
The Shoe Became The Center Of Attraction, The Center Of All Eyes.
The Efficient Baxter Fixed It With The Piercing Glare Of One Who
Feels That His Brain Is Tottering. Lord Emsworth Looked At It
With A Mildly Puzzled Expression. Ashe Marson Examined It With A
Sort Of Affectionate Interest, As Though He Were Waiting For It
To Do A Trick Of Some Kind. Baxter Was The First To Break The
Silence.
"There Was Paint On This Shoe," He Said Vehemently. "I Tell You
There Was A Splash Of Red Paint Across The Toe. This Man Here
Will Bear Me Out In This. You Saw Paint On This Shoe?"
"Paint, Sir?"
"What! Do You Mean To Tell Me You Did Not See It?"
"No, Sir; There Was No Paint On This Shoe."
"This Is Ridiculous. I Saw It With My Own Eyes. It Was A Broad
Splash Right Across The Toe."
Lord Emsworth Interposed.
"You Must Have Made A Mistake, My Dear Baxter. There Is Certainly
No Trace Of Paint On This Shoe. These Momentary Optical Delusions
Are, I Fancy, Not Uncommon. Any Doctor Will Tell You--"
"I Had An Aunt, Your Lordship," Said Ashe Chattily, "Who Was
Remarkably Subject--"
"It Is Absurd! I Cannot Have Been Mistaken," Said Baxter. "I Am
Positively Certain The Toe Of This Shoe Was Red When I Found It."
"It Is Quite Black Now, My Dear Baxter."
"A Sort Of Chameleon Shoe," Murmured Ashe.
The Goaded Secretary Turned On Him.
"What Did You Say?"
"Nothing, Sir."
Baxter's Old Suspicion Of This Smooth Young Man Came Surging Back
To Him.
Chapter 9 Pg 155
"I Strongly Suspect You Of Having Had Something To Do With This."
"Really, Baxter," Said The Earl, "That Is Surely The Least
Probable Of Solutions. This Young Man Could Hardly Have Cleaned
The Shoe On His Way From The House. A Few Days Ago, When Painting
In The Museum, I Inadvertently Splashed Some Paint On My Own
Shoe. I Can Assure You It Does Not Brush Off. It Needs A Very
Systematic Cleaning Before All Traces Are Removed."
"Exactly, Your Lordship," Said Ashe. "My Theory, If I May--"
"Yes?"
"My Theory, Your Lordship, Is That Mr. Baxter Was Deceived By The
Light-And-Shade Effects On The Toe Of The Shoe. The Morning Sun,
Streaming In Through The Window, Must Have Shone On The Shoe In
Such A Manner As To Give It A Momentary And Fictitious Aspect Of
Redness. If Mr. Baxter Recollects, He Did Not Look Long At The
Shoe. The Picture On The Retina Of The Eye Consequently Had Not
Time To Fade. I Myself Remember Thinking At The Moment That The
Shoe Appeared To Have A Certain Reddish Tint. The Mistake--"
"Bah!" Said Baxter Shortly.
Lord Emsworth, Now Thoroughly Bored With The Whole Affair And
Desiring Nothing More Than To Be Left Alone With His Weeds And
His Garden Fork, Put In His Word. Baxter, He Felt, Was Curiously
Irritating These Days. He Always Seemed To Be Bobbing Up. The
Earl Of Emsworth Was Conscious Of A Strong Desire To Be Free From
His Secretary's Company. He Was Efficient, Yes--Invaluable
Indeed--He Did Not Know What He Should Do Without Baxter; But
There Was No Denying That His Company Tended After A While To
Become A Trifle Tedious. He Took A Fresh Grip On His Garden Fork
And Shifted It About In The Air As A Hint That The Interview Had
Lasted Long Enough.
"It Seems To Me, My Dear Fellow," He Said, "The Only Explanation
That Will Square With The Facts. A Shoe That Is Really Smeared
With Red Paint Does Not Become Black Of Itself In The Course Of A
Few Minutes."
"You Are Very Right, Your Lordship," Said Ashe Approvingly. "May
I Go Now, Your Lordship?"
"Certainly--Certainly; By All Means."
"Shall I Take The Shoe With Me, Your Lordship?"
"If You Do Not Want It, Baxter."
The Secretary Passed The Fraudulent Piece Of Evidence To Ashe
Without A Word; And The Latter, Having Included Both Gentlemen In
A Kindly Smile, Left The Garden.
Chapter 9 Pg 156
On Returning To The Butler's Room, Ashe's First Act Was To Remove
A Shoe From The Top Of The Pile In The Basket. He Was About To
Leave The Room With It, When The Sound Of Footsteps In The
Passage Outside Halted Him.
"I Do Not In The Least Understand Why You Wish Me To Come Here,
My Dear Baxter," Said A Voice, "And You Are Completely Spoiling
My Morning, But--"
For A Moment Ashe Was At A Loss. It Was A Crisis That Called For
Swift Action, And It Was A Little Hard To Know Exactly What To
Do. It Had Been His Intention To Carry The Paint-Splashed Shoe
Back To His Own Room, There To Clean It At His Leisure; But It
Appeared That His Strategic Line Of Retreat Was Blocked. Plainly,
The Possibility--Nay, The Certainty--That Ashe Had Substituted
Another Shoe For The One With The Incriminating Splash Of Paint
On It Had Occurred To The Efficient Baxter Almost Directly The
Former Had Left The Garden.
The Window Was Open. Ashe Looked Out. There Were Bushes Below.
It Was A Makeshift Policy, And One Which Did Not Commend Itself
To Him As The Ideal Method, But It Seemed The Only Thing To Be
Done, For Already The Footsteps Had Reached The Door. He Threw
The Shoe Out Of Window, And It Sank Beneath The Friendly Surface
Of The Long Grass Round A Wisteria Bush.
Ashe Turned, Relieved, And The Next Moment The Door Opened And
Baxter Walked In, Accompanied--With Obvious Reluctance---By His
Bored Employer.
Baxter Was Brisk And Peremptory.
"I Wish To Look At Those Shoes Again," He Said Coldly.
"Certainly, Sir," Said Ashe.
"I Can Manage Without Your Assistance," Said Baxter.
"Very Good, Sir."
Leaning Against The Wall, Ashe Watched Him With Silent Interest,
As He Burrowed Among The Contents Of The Basket, Like A Terrier
Digging For Rats. The Earl Of Emsworth Took No Notice Of The
Proceedings. He Yawned Plaintively, And Pottered About The Room.
He Was One Of Nature's Potterers.
The Scrutiny Of The Man Whom He Had Now Placed Definitely As A
Malefactor Irritated Baxter. Ashe Was Looking At Him In An
Insufferably Tolerant Manner, As If He Were An Indulgent Father
Brooding Over His Infant Son While Engaged In Some Childish
Frolic. He Lodged A Protest.
"Don't Stand There Staring At Me!"
Chapter 9 Pg 157
"I Was Interested In What You Were Doing, Sir."
"Never Mind! Don't Stare At Me In That Idiotic Way."
"May I Read A Book, Sir?"
"Yes, Read If You Like."
"Thank You, Sir."
Ashe Took A Volume From The Butler's Slenderly Stocked Shelf. The
Shoe-Expert Resumed His Investigations In The Basket. He Went
Through It Twice, But Each Time Without Success. After The Second
Search He Stood Up And Looked Wildly About The Room. He Was As
Certain As He Could Be Of Anything That The Missing Piece Of
Evidence Was Somewhere Within Those Four Walls. There Was Very
Little Cover In The Room, Even For So Small A Fugitive As A Shoe.
He Raised The Tablecloth And Peered Beneath The Table.
"Are You Looking For Mr. Beach, Sir?" Said Ashe. "I Think He Has
Gone To Church."
Baxter, Pink With His Exertions, Fastened A Baleful Glance Upon
Him.
"You Had Better Be Careful," He Said.
At This Point The Earl Of Emsworth, Having Done All The Pottering
Possible In The Restricted Area, Yawned Like An Alligator.
"Now, My Dear Baxter--" He Began Querulously.
Baxter Was Not Listening. He Was On The Trail. He Had Caught
Sight Of A Small Closet In The Wall, Next To The Mantelpiece, And
It Had Stimulated Him.
"What Is In This Closet?"
"That Closet, Sir?"
"Yes, This Closet." He Rapped The Door Irritably.
"I Could Not Say, Sir. Mr. Beach, To Whom The Closet Belongs,
Possibly Keeps A Few Odd Trifles There. A Ball
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