fooled.”
“ Mr. Sipperley had had a nasty accident, sir.”
“He had?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rummy coincidence. I mean, after what you were saying this morning.”
“Not altogether, sir. Before telephoning to Miss Moon, I took the further liberty of striking Mr. Sipperley a sharp blow on the head with one of your golf-clubs, which was fortunately lying in a corner of the room. The putter, I believe, sir. If you recollect, you were practising with it this morning before you left.”
I gaped at the blighter. I had always known Jeeves for a man of infinite sagacity, sound beyond belief on any question of ties or spats; but never before had I suspected him capable of strong-arm work like this.
It seemed to open up an entirely new aspect of the fellow. I can’t put it better than by saying that, as I gazed at him, the scales seemed to fall from my eyes.
“Good heavens, Jeeves!”
“I did it with the utmost regret, sir. It appeared to me the only course.”
“But look here, Jeeves. I don’t get this. Wasn’t Mr. Sipperley pretty shirty when he came to and found that you had been soaking him with putters?”
“He was not aware that I had done so, sir. I took the precaution of waiting until his back was momentarily turned.”
“But