hance.

Yours ever,

P. G. WODEHOUSE.

CONTENTS

I DISTRESSING SCENE IN A HOTEL
II A SHOCK FOR MR. BREWSTER
III MR. BREWSTER DELIVERS SENTENCE
IV WORK WANTED
V STRANGE EXPERIENCE OF AN ARTIST'S MODEL
VI THE BOMB
VII MR. ROSCOE SHERRIFF HAS AN IDEA
VIII A DISTURBED NIGHT FOR DEAR OLD SQUIFFY
IX A LETTER FROM PARKER
X DOING FATHER A BIT OF GOOD
XI SALVATORE CHOOSES THE WRONG MOMENT
XII BRIGHT EYES-AND A FLY
XIII RALLYING ROUND PERCY
XIV THE SAD CASE OF LOONEY BIDDLE
XV SUMMER STORMS
XVI ARCHIE ACCEPTS A SITUATION
XVII BROTHER BILL'S ROMANCE
XVIII THE SAUSAGE CHAPPIE
XIX REGGIE COMES TO LIFE
XX THE SAUSAGE CHAPPIE CLICKS
XXI THE-GROWING BOY
XXII WASHY STEPS INTO THE HALL OF FAME
XXIII MOTHER'S-KNEE
XXIV THE MELTING OF MR. CONNOLLY
XXV THE WIGMORE VENUS
XXVI A TALE OF A GRANDFATHER

CHAPTER I. DISTRESSING SCENE

"I say, laddie!" said Archie.

"Sir?" replied the desk-clerk alertly. All the employes of the Hotel
Cosmopolis were alert. It was one of the things on which Mr. Daniel
Brewster, the proprietor, insisted. And as he was always wandering about
the lobby of the hotel keeping a personal eye on affairs, it was never
safe to relax.

"I want to see the manager."

"Is there anything I could do, sir?"

Archie looked at him doubtfully.

"Well, as a matter of fact, my dear old desk-clerk," he said, "I want to
kick up a fearful row, and it hardly seems fair to lug you into it. Why
you, I mean to say? The blighter whose head I want on a charger is the
bally manager."

At this point a massive, grey-haired man, who had been standing close
by, gazing on the lobby with an air of restrained severity, as if daring
it to start anything, joined in the conversation.

"I am the manager," he said.

His eye was cold and hostile. Others, it seemed to say, might like
Archie Moffam, but not he. Daniel Brewster was bristling for combat.
What he had overheard had shocked him to the core of his being. The
Hotel Cosmopolis was his own private, personal property, and the thing
dearest to him in the world, after his daughter Lucille. He prided
himself on the fact that his hotel was not like other New York hotels,
which were run by impersonal companies and shareholders