“During the last hour Mrs. Spencer has been on the telephone three times, sir, endeavouring to get into communication with you.”

“Aunt Agatha!” I cried, paling beneath my tan.

“Yes, sir. I gathered from her remarks that she had been reading in the evening paper a report of this morning’s proceedings in the police court.”

I hopped from the chair like a jackrabbit of the prairie. If Aunt Agatha was out with her hatchet, a move was most certainly indicated.

“Jeeves,” I said, “this is a time for deeds, not words. Pack⁠—and that right speedily.”

“I have packed, sir.”

“Find out when there is a train for Cambridge.”

“There is one in forty minutes, sir.”