it, thinking maybe I would get hold of it--the dashed
idea, I mean.

I batted at him perplexedly.

"What was that? _Scrimmage?_ I don't remember hearing anything--_what's_
that?"

And I reached for another glass.

"Pardon, sir--" Jenkins' eye shifted unhappily; "but may I ask, sir,
what _is_ the last thing you do remember?"

"Eh?"

I sat up a bit straighter, rubbing my head and devilish annoyed at being
made to try to think at all. Then I remembered: We were in a jolly blue
aeroplane drawn by golden humming-birds and she was just telling
me--_no_, dash it, that was a dream--just a dashed dream! I groaned,
dropping my head upon my knees. "Why, the last thing I remember was the
punch--punch--"

"Punch--yes, sir!" And Jenkins sighed.

"_Your_ punch to put out the light," I finished. Then I looked at him,
startled. "Oh, I say, now, it wasn't burglars, was it?"

You see, I thought at once of Foxy Grandpa and my darling's pajamas.

"_Not_ precisely, sir." Jenkins hesitated; then moved a little nearer.
"I--I hope you'll pardon me, Mr. Lightnut, sir; but I can't help a
feeling that you ought to know everything before--h'm--I was going to
say, sir, before you see the family. I _hope_ you'll pardon me,
sir!"--he heaved desperately--"I mean about all that happened last
night."

I stared. "Oh, I say, Jenkins," I said, with an anxious thought, "_you_
didn't--er--_you_ know--I mean you and Wilkes didn't drink the rest of
the punch--after he took it away, you know--eh?"

"_Me?_" Jenkins' hand clutched the heavy brass curve at the foot of the
bed. "No, _sir_!"--and he added sadly: "Besides, sir, there _wasn't_ any
rest of it! Mr. Wil--I mean Wilkes, was a-commenting on it. That was how
I come to find I didn't have any more of the blank pledges. So I just
walked across the park to get some extra ones I had given the gardener,
and he said I could have 'em _all_, if I'd just let him get a little
sleep; and he chucked 'em all out of his window. Seemed irritated like
because I woke him up. And then, sir, I don't know whether it was
because of the splashing of the fountains, but I had an idea."

"_That's_ nothing," I said contemptuously, "I often do at night when I
hear water splashing. I _often_ get up and get something."

Jenkins' face sobered. "I _know_ it, sir--pardon, sir, I mean I
frequently know you have--h'm--know by the glasses--_you_ understand,
sir!" Then he went on: "The idea that came to me was a great liberty