touch?"
Purkiss assured him that he did not, and Bingo tottered from the room and went off to the club to pull himself together with a couple of quick ones. And he was just finishing the second when Oofy Prosser came in. One glance at him told Bingo that here was the fountainhead to which he must go. He needed someone to lend him a tenner, and Oofy, he felt, was the People's Choice.
Now I need scarcely tell you that a fellow who is going to lend you a tenner must have two prime qualifications. He must be good for the amount and he must be willing to part with it. Oofy unquestionably filled the bill in the first particular, but experience had taught Bingo that he was apt to fall down on the second. Nevertheless it was in optimistic mood that he beetled over to his old friend. Oofy, he reminded himself, was Algernon Aubrey's godfather, and it was only natural to suppose that he could be delighted to come through with a birthday present for the little chap. Well, not delighted, perhaps. Still, a bit of persevering excavating work would probably dig up the needful.
"Oh, hullo, Oofy, old man," he said. "Oofy, old man, do you know what? It's Algy's birthday very shortly."
"Algy who?"
"Algy A. Little. The good old baby. Your godson."
A quick shudder ran through Oofy. He was thinking of the occasion when he had had a severe morning head and Bingo had brought the stripling to his flat and introduced them.
"Oh, my Aunt!" he said. "That frightful little gumboil!"
His tone was not encouraging, but Bingo carried on.
"Presents are now pouring in, and I knew you would be hurt if you were not given the opportunity of contributing some little trifle. Ten quid was what suggested itself to me. The simplest thing," said Bingo, "would be if you were to slip me the money now. Then it would be off your mind."
Oofy flushed darkly beneath his pimples.
"Now listen," he said, and there was no mistaking the ring of determination in his voice. "When you talked me - against my better judgment - into becoming godfather to a child who looks like a ventriloquist's dummy, I expressly stipulated that a silver mug was to be accepted in full settlement, and we had a gentleman's agreement to that effect. It still holds good."
"Ten quid isn't much."
"It's ten quid more than you're going to get out of me."
Bingo was reluctantly compelled to come clean.
"As a matter of fact, Oofy, old man, it's not the baby who wants the stuff, it's me - your old friend, the fellow you've known since he was so high. Unless I get a tenner immediately, disaster stares me in the eyeball. So give of your plenty, Oofy, like the splendid chap you are."
"No!" cried Oofy. "No, no, a thousand times---”
The words died on his lips. It was as though a thought had come, flushing his brow.
"Listen," he said. "Are you doing anything this evening?"
"No. Unless I decide to end it all in the river.''
"Can you slip away from home?"
"Yes, I could do that all right. As it happens, I'm all alone at the moment. My wife and Mrs. Purkiss, the moon of my boss's delight, have legged it to Brighton to attend some sort of Old Girls binge at their late school, and won't be back till tomorrow."
"Good. I want you to dine at the Ritz."
"Fine. Nothing I should like better. I meet you there, do I?"
"You do not. I'm leaving for Paris this afternoon. What you meet is a girl named Mabel Murgatroyd with red hair, a vivacious manner and a dimple on the left side of the chin. You give her dinner."
Bingo drew himself up. He was deeply shocked at the other's loose ideas of how married men behave when their wives are away.
"Do this, and you get your tenner."
Bingo lowered himself.
"Listen," said Oofy. "I will tell you all."
It was a dubious and discreditable story that he related. For some time past, it appeared, he had been flitting round this girl like a pimpled butterfly, and it had suddenly come to him with a sickening shock that his emotional nature had brought him to the very verge of
Purkiss assured him that he did not, and Bingo tottered from the room and went off to the club to pull himself together with a couple of quick ones. And he was just finishing the second when Oofy Prosser came in. One glance at him told Bingo that here was the fountainhead to which he must go. He needed someone to lend him a tenner, and Oofy, he felt, was the People's Choice.
Now I need scarcely tell you that a fellow who is going to lend you a tenner must have two prime qualifications. He must be good for the amount and he must be willing to part with it. Oofy unquestionably filled the bill in the first particular, but experience had taught Bingo that he was apt to fall down on the second. Nevertheless it was in optimistic mood that he beetled over to his old friend. Oofy, he reminded himself, was Algernon Aubrey's godfather, and it was only natural to suppose that he could be delighted to come through with a birthday present for the little chap. Well, not delighted, perhaps. Still, a bit of persevering excavating work would probably dig up the needful.
"Oh, hullo, Oofy, old man," he said. "Oofy, old man, do you know what? It's Algy's birthday very shortly."
"Algy who?"
"Algy A. Little. The good old baby. Your godson."
A quick shudder ran through Oofy. He was thinking of the occasion when he had had a severe morning head and Bingo had brought the stripling to his flat and introduced them.
"Oh, my Aunt!" he said. "That frightful little gumboil!"
His tone was not encouraging, but Bingo carried on.
"Presents are now pouring in, and I knew you would be hurt if you were not given the opportunity of contributing some little trifle. Ten quid was what suggested itself to me. The simplest thing," said Bingo, "would be if you were to slip me the money now. Then it would be off your mind."
Oofy flushed darkly beneath his pimples.
"Now listen," he said, and there was no mistaking the ring of determination in his voice. "When you talked me - against my better judgment - into becoming godfather to a child who looks like a ventriloquist's dummy, I expressly stipulated that a silver mug was to be accepted in full settlement, and we had a gentleman's agreement to that effect. It still holds good."
"Ten quid isn't much."
"It's ten quid more than you're going to get out of me."
Bingo was reluctantly compelled to come clean.
"As a matter of fact, Oofy, old man, it's not the baby who wants the stuff, it's me - your old friend, the fellow you've known since he was so high. Unless I get a tenner immediately, disaster stares me in the eyeball. So give of your plenty, Oofy, like the splendid chap you are."
"No!" cried Oofy. "No, no, a thousand times---”
The words died on his lips. It was as though a thought had come, flushing his brow.
"Listen," he said. "Are you doing anything this evening?"
"No. Unless I decide to end it all in the river.''
"Can you slip away from home?"
"Yes, I could do that all right. As it happens, I'm all alone at the moment. My wife and Mrs. Purkiss, the moon of my boss's delight, have legged it to Brighton to attend some sort of Old Girls binge at their late school, and won't be back till tomorrow."
"Good. I want you to dine at the Ritz."
"Fine. Nothing I should like better. I meet you there, do I?"
"You do not. I'm leaving for Paris this afternoon. What you meet is a girl named Mabel Murgatroyd with red hair, a vivacious manner and a dimple on the left side of the chin. You give her dinner."
Bingo drew himself up. He was deeply shocked at the other's loose ideas of how married men behave when their wives are away.
"Do this, and you get your tenner."
Bingo lowered himself.
"Listen," said Oofy. "I will tell you all."
It was a dubious and discreditable story that he related. For some time past, it appeared, he had been flitting round this girl like a pimpled butterfly, and it had suddenly come to him with a sickening shock that his emotional nature had brought him to the very verge of
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