“What did he say?” asked Aunt Jane.
“Roderick says this young man is insane,” roared the Prof.
“Ah!” said Aunt Jane, nodding, “I thought as much. He climbs down water pipes.”
“Does what?”
“I’ve seen him—ah, many a time.”
Sir Roderick snorted violently.
“He ought to be under proper restraint. It is abominable that a person in his mental condition should be permitted to roam the world at large. The next stage may quite easily be homicidal.”
It seemed to me that, even at the expense of giving old Sippy away, I must be cleared of this frightful charge. After all, Sippy’s number was up, anyway.
“Let me explain,” I said. “Sippy asked me to come here.”
“What do you mean?”
“He couldn’t come himself, because he was jugged for biffing a cop on Boat Race Night.”
Well, it wasn’t easy to make them get the hang of the story, and even when I’d done it, it didn’t seem to make them any chummier towards me. A certain coldness about expresses it, and when dinner was announced I counted myself out and pushed off rapidly to my room. I could have done with a bit of dinner, but the atmosphere didn’t seem just right.
“Jeeves,” I said, having shot in and pressed the bell, “we’re sunk.”