he Mr Philip Glohenman, or the brother?’
‘The brother, Mr Green.’
‘Ah. They are much devoted to each other.’
‘So I blieve.’
Pig paused. Then said, ‘Do you know the two Glohenmans?’
‘Exceedingly well, Mr Pig.’
‘Well you as a seaman can advise me. Is this man a good captain?
‘Really Sir, I cannot stop to give you a character now, but I will come to morrow.’
‘Very well.’
The two shipowners shook hands & the bird went out. ‘What,’ thought Pig, ‘was his game?’
V
Mr Green was highly satisfied with his morning’s work. He now was even with Glohenman. He knew perfectly well that Capt. G. was a Prussian agent & that it was all important that he should get a place in the Pig Line. Prussia wanted an insight into Boxonian commerce & were depending on this man to give it them. He knew also that Captain Glohenman’s chance of getting the position depended on the character which he – Polonius – gave him before Pig. He had now only to confront the captain’s devoted & patriotic brother with these facts, & he had him at his beck & call. Philip Glohenman would have his brother in the Pig line at all costs. And now that he had this devoted Philip, how should he use his power? The answer was ‘to get myself into the Clique’. Orring, the leader of his party, had refused to get him a place. But Philip had unbounded influence over Orring, so the worthy bird was full of confidence.
On the same morning, at 6 o’clock the steamer Ariadne (C.I.Ry) had arrived from Bombay having on board Lord Big, their Majesties, Visc. Puddiphat & General Quicksteppe. Although she arrived at Player’s Wharf so early, their Majesties and the viscount were up an hour before she was in. The Owl was as immaculate as ever, in a brown lounge suit & a Homburg hat of the same color. The two kings were in grey tweed & high spirits, busily engaged in explaining everything to each other – a superfluous occupation as there was nothing which one knew & the other did not. The viscount gave their Majesties to understand that he was interested in all they told him. The Little Master presently joined the party.
‘Boys, have you not got coats on?’
‘No,’ replied the ’jah.
‘Are’nt you cold?’
‘No,’ replied the rabbit.
Arrived at Player’s Wharf, the viscount took his leave of the royal party & jumping into a hackney cab ordered it to drive to the Goose1 for breakfast. Puddiphat’s thoughts were of the sweetest as he lent back on the richly upholstered seat & watched the panorama of Murry streets flitting past. Turkey bored the Owl: he loved Boxen & Murry above all the cities of Boxen. His numerous Alhambras1 were paying excellently. This pleasing reverie was broken in upon by the vehicle drawing up outside the Goose Inn. The young Owl grasped his cane & stepped out, & entering the Inner Coffee Room sat down. He had hardly begun his breakfast when a female music-hall ‘star’ walked up to speak to him. She was chiefly remarkable for an impossible hat & an irritating laugh. Towards Puddiphat she adopted the condescending air which actresses always do towards managers. The subject which they discussed was apparently of some interest, & after some confabulation the Owl got up & going out said,
‘Yes, a splendid idea.’
The result was that a couple of days later The boys, Pig, Colonel Chutney, Fortescue, Mr Hedges2 (The Beetle), also Walking Waggon – Boxen’s best comedian, Rosie Leroy the inimitable comedienne, & Phyllis Legrange comedienne & dancer (the promoter of the scheme), each recieved the following message: –
VI
A day after The Owl sent out his invitations, a neat little schooner came along side the Royal Wharf: she was none other than our old friend the Bosphorus under command of sturdy Macgoullah. And very glad he was too to be once more walking up to the Murryman’s Rest. When he had got comfortably settled in the homely Inner with a pipe & a bottle of Vin-de-Brus (for he was rich though plain) he was disgusted by an interruption. The door was flung open & a tall, liveried valet entered.
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘do I address Captain Macgoullah?’
‘Yes.’
‘My master, General Quicksteppe, desires your presence please, if you can come Sir?’
The honest chessman, who had looked forward to a morning at his favorite Inn, was somewhat annoyed, however he felt it incumbent upon him to follow the valet to a motor waiting on the Royal Wharf. Shortly after he had gone Green & Herr Glohenman stalked into the Inner & sat down.
‘Glohenman, I brought you here for an important purpose.’
‘What?’
‘I must have a place in the new Clique.’
‘Well? I can’t help you –’
‘You must.’
‘How so?’
‘Listen! Your brother is trying to get a place in the Pig line.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Never mind. I do know. Now Pig has asked me for his character. Pig trusts me.’
‘But, you –’
‘You have influence with Orring. It is a case of either-or.’
Meanwhile Macgoullah had been shown into a salon in the General’s townhouse, where he stood feeling very uncomfortable & awaiting the owner. Presently a door was opened & the old man entered.
‘Good morning, my dear captain.’
‘Good morning, m’lord. What can I do for you?’
‘Well captain, of course what I am going to say won’t go beyond you?’
‘No, m’lord,’ replied Macgoullah, begginning to feel uncomfortable.
‘Have you heard anything about this movement against the Clique?’
‘Er – yes m’lord.’
‘Well, you are a Walterian?’1
‘I think so M’Lord.’
‘Well you know Captain Green?’
‘Yes m’Lord.’
‘Well could you assist me in watching him?’
‘I could not, m’lord,’ cried Macgoullah who was thoroughly sick of the business. ‘You’ll have to get up very early to get the better of Green.’
‘Then, you won’t help me?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t,’ replied the sailor, honestly disstressed at the other’s dissapointment.
VII
On the evening of the eventful Saturday, their Majesties were turning Riverside Palace upside down in their preparations for The Owl’s select supper party. They forgot it till they had only quarter of an hour to dress: however after almost superhuman efforts they got into their car in time. After a short drive they stopped outsides Puddiphat’s magnificent townhouse. Stepping out, they were