“A few weeks more! I shall be lucky if I stay two days. You remember I told you that your aunt’s faith in me as a guardian of her blighted son was shaken a few days ago by the fact that he was caught smoking. I now find that the person who caught him smoking was the man Filmer. And ten minutes ago young Thomas told me that he was proposing to inflict some hideous revenge on Filmer for having reported him to your aunt. I don’t know what he is going to do, but if he does it, out I inevitably go on my left ear. Your aunt thinks the world of Filmer, and would sack me on the spot. And three weeks before Rosie gets back!”
I saw all.
“Jeeves,” I said.
“Sir?”
“I see all. Do you see all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then flock round.”
“I fear, sir—”
Bingo gave a low moan.
“Don’t tell me, Jeeves,” he said, brokenly, “that nothing suggests itself.”
“Nothing at the moment, I regret to say, sir.”
Bingo uttered a stricken woofle like a bulldog that has been refused cake.
“Well, then, the only thing I can do, I suppose,” he said sombrely, “is not to let the pie-faced little thug out of my sight for a second.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “Ceaseless vigilance, eh, Jeeves?”