The Prince and Betty

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER XV

  THE HONEYED WORD

  The offices of Peaceful Moments were in a large building in a streetoff Madison Avenue. They consisted of a sort of outer lair, where PugsyMaloney spent his time reading tales of life on the prairies andheading off undesirable visitors; a small room, into which desirablebut premature visitors were loosed, to wait their turn for admissioninto the Presence; and a larger room beyond, which was the editorialsanctum.

  Smith, returning from luncheon on the day following his announcement ofthe great change, found both Betty and Pugsy waiting in the outer lair,evidently with news of import.

  "Mr. Smith," began Betty.

  "Dey're in dere," said Master Maloney with his customary terseness.

  "Who, exactly?" asked Smith.

  "De whole bunch of dem."

  Smith inspected Pugsy through his eyeglass. "Can you give me anyparticulars?" he asked patiently. "You are well-meaning, but vague,Comrade Maloney. Who are in there?"

  "About 'steen of dem!" said Pugsy.

  "Mr. Asher," said Betty, "and Mr. Philpotts, and all the rest of them."She struggled for a moment, but, unable to resist the temptation,added, "I told you so."

  A faint smile appeared upon Smith's face.

  "Dey just butted in," said Master Maloney, resuming his narrative. "Iwas sittin' here, readin' me book, when de foist of de guys blows in.'Boy,' says he, 'is de editor in?' 'Nope,' I says. 'I'll go in andwait,' says he. 'Nuttin' doin',' says I. 'Nix on de goin'-in act.' Imight as well have saved me breat! In he butts. In about t'ree minutesalong comes another gazebo. 'Boy,' says he, 'is de editor in?' 'Nope,'I says. 'I'll wait,' says he, lightin' out for de door, and in hebutts. Wit' dat I sees de proposition's too fierce for muh. I can'tkeep dese big husky guys out if dey bucks center like dat. So when derest of de bunch comes along, I don't try to give dem de trun down. Isays, 'Well, gent,' I says, 'it's up to youse. De editor ain't in, but,if you feels lonesome, push t'roo. Dere's plenty dere to keep yousecompany. I can't be boddered!'"

  "And what more could you have said?" agreed Smith approvingly. "Tellme, did these gentlemen appear to be gay and light-hearted, or did theyseem to be looking for someone with a hatchet?"

  "Dey was hoppin' mad, de whole bunch of dem."

  "Dreadfully," attested Betty.

  "As I suspected," said Smith, "but we must not repine. These triflingcontretemps are the penalties we pay for our high journalistic aims. Ifancy that with the aid of the diplomatic smile and the honeyed word Imay manage to win out. Will you come and give me your moral support,Comrade Brown?"

  He opened the door of the inner room for Betty, and followed her in.

  Master Maloney's statement that "about 'steen" visitors had arrivedproved to be a little exaggerated. There were five men in the room.

  As Smith entered, every eye was turned upon him. To an outsidespectator he would have seemed rather like a very well-dressed Danielintroduced into a den of singularly irritable lions. Five pairs of eyeswere smoldering with a long-nursed resentment. Five brows werecorrugated with wrathful lines. Such, however, was the simple majestyof Smith's demeanor that for a moment there was dead silence. Not aword was spoken as he paced, wrapped in thought, to the editorialchair. Stillness brooded over the room as he carefully dusted thatpiece of furniture, and, having done so to his satisfaction, hitched upthe knees of his trousers and sank gracefully into a sitting position.

  This accomplished, he looked up and started. He gazed round the room.

  "Ha! I am observed!" he murmured.

  The words broke the spell. Instantly the five visitors burstsimultaneously into speech.

  "Are you the acting editor of this paper?"

  "I wish to have a word with you, sir."

  "Mr. Maloney, I presume?"

  "Pardon me!"

  "I should like a few moments' conversation."

  The start was good and even, but the gentleman who said "Pardon me!"necessarily finished first, with the rest nowhere.

  Smith turned to him, bowed, and fixed him with a benevolent gazethrough his eyeglass.

  "Are you Mr. Maloney, may I ask?" enquired the favored one.

  The others paused for the reply. Smith shook his head. "My name isSmith."

  "Where is Mr. Maloney?"

  Smith looked across at Betty, who had seated herself in her place bythe typewriter.

  "Where did you tell me Mr. Maloney had gone to, Miss Brown? Ah, well,never mind. Is there anything _I_ can do for you, gentlemen? I amon the editorial staff of this paper."

  "Then, maybe," said a small, round gentleman who, so far, had done onlychorus work, "you can tell me what all this means? My name is Waterman,sir. I am here on behalf of my wife, whose name you doubtless know."

  "Correct me if I am wrong," said Smith, "but I should say it, also, wasWaterman."

  "Luella Granville Waterman, sir!" said the little man proudly. "Mywife," he went on, "has received this extraordinary communication froma man signing himself P. Maloney. We are both at a loss to make head ortail of it."

  "It seems reasonably clear to me," said Smith, reading the letter.

  "It's an outrage. My wife has been a contributor to this journal sinceits foundation. We are both intimate friends of Mr. Renshaw, to whom mywife's work has always given complete satisfaction. And now, withoutthe slightest warning, comes this peremptory dismissal from P. Maloney.Who is P. Maloney? Where is Mr. Renshaw?"

  The chorus burst forth. It seemed that that was what they all wanted toknow. Who was P. Maloney? Where was Mr. Renshaw?

  "I am the Reverend Edwin T. Philpott, sir," said a cadaverous-lookingman with light blue eyes and a melancholy face. "I have contributed'Moments of Meditation' to this journal for some considerable time."

  Smith nodded.

  "I know, yours has always seemed to me work which the world will notwillingly let die."

  The Reverend Edwin's frosty face thawed into a bleak smile.

  "And yet," continued Smith, "I gather that P. Maloney, on the otherhand, actually wishes to hurry on its decease. Strange!"

  A man in a serge suit, who had been lurking behind Betty, bobbed intothe open.

  "Where's this fellow Maloney? P. Maloney. That's the man we want tosee. I've been working for this paper without a break, except when Ihad the grip, for four years, and now up comes this Maloney fellow, ifyou please, and tells me in so many words that the paper's got no usefor me."

  "These are life's tragedies," sighed Smith.

  "What does he mean by it? That's what I want to know. And that's whatthese gentlemen want to know. See here--"

  "I am addressing--" said Smith.

  "Asher's my name. B. Henderson Asher. I write 'Moments of Mirth.'"

  A look almost of excitement came into Smith's face, such a look as avisitor to a foreign land might wear when confronted with some greatnational monument. He stood up and shook Mr. Asher reverently by thehand.

  "Gentlemen," he said, reseating himself, "this is a painful case. Thecircumstances, as you will admit when you have heard all, are peculiar.You have asked me where Mr. Renshaw is. I don't know."

  "You don't know!" exclaimed Mr. Asher.

  "Nobody knows. With luck you may find a black cat in a coal cellar on amoonless night, but not Mr. Renshaw. Shortly after I joined thisjournal, he started out on a vacation, by his doctor's orders, and leftno address. No letters were to be forwarded. He was to enjoy completerest. Who can say where he is now? Possibly racing down some ruggedslope in the Rockies with two grizzlies and a wildcat in earnestpursuit. Possibly in the midst of Florida Everglades, making a noiselike a piece of meat in order to snare alligators. Who can tell?"

  Silent consternation prevailed among his audience.

  "Then, do you mean to say," demanded Mr. Asher, "that this fellowMaloney's the boss here, and that what he says goes?"

  Smith bowed.

  "Exactly. A man of intensely masterful character, he will brook noopposition. I am powerless to sway him. Suggestions from myself a
s tothe conduct of the paper would infuriate him. He believes that radicalchanges are necessary in the policy of _Peaceful Moments_, and hewill carry them through if it snows. Doubtless he would gladly consideryour work if it fitted in with his ideas. A rapid-fire impression of aglove fight, a spine-shaking word picture of a railway smash, orsomething on those lines, would be welcomed. But--"

  "I have never heard of such a thing," said Mr. Waterman indignantly.

  "In this life," said Smith, shaking his head, "we must be prepared forevery emergency. We must distinguish between the unusual and theimpossible. It is unusual for the acting editor of a weekly paper torevolutionize its existing policy, and you have rashly ordered yourlife on the assumption that it is impossible. You are unprepared. Thething comes on you as a surprise. The cry goes round New York,'Comrades Asher, Waterman, Philpotts, and others have been takenunawares. They cannot cope with the situation.'"

  "But what is to be done?" cried Mr. Asher.

  "Nothing, I fear, except to wait. It may be that when Mr. Renshaw,having dodged the bears and eluded the wildcat, returns to his post, hewill decide not to continue the paper on the lines at present mappedout. He should be back in about ten weeks."

  "Ten weeks!"

  "Till then, the only thing to do is to wait. You may rely on me to keepa watchful eye on your interests. When your thoughts tend to take agloomy turn say to yourselves, 'All is well. Smith is keeping awatchful eye on our interests.'"

  "All the same, I should like to see this P. Maloney," said Mr. Asher.

  "I shouldn't," said Smith. "I speak in your best interests. P. Maloneyis a man of the fiercest passions. He cannot brook interference. If youshould argue with him, there is no knowing what might not happen. Hewould be the first to regret any violent action, when once he hadcooled off, but-- Of course, if you wish it I could arrange a meeting.No? I think you are wise. And now, gentlemen, as I have a good deal ofwork to get through--

  "All very disturbing to the man of culture and refinement," said Smith,as the door closed behind the last of the malcontents. "But I thinkthat we may now consider the line clear. I see no further obstacle inour path. I fear I have made Comrade Maloney perhaps a shade unpopularwith our late contributors, but these things must be. We must clenchour teeth and face them manfully. He suffers in an excellent cause."