Psmith, Journalist, P. G. Wodehouse [top 5 ebook reader .txt] 📗

But he did not lead public thought. He catered exclusively for children with water on the brain, and men and women with solid ivory skulls. Comrade Windsor, with a broader view, feels that there are other and larger publics. He refuses to content himself with ladling out a weekly dole of mental predigested breakfast food. He provides meat. He⁠—”

“Then⁠—excuse me⁠—” said Mr. Parker, turning to Billy, “You, I take it, are responsible for this very vigorous attack on the tenement house owners?”

“You can take it I am,” said Billy.

Psmith interposed.

“We are both responsible, Comrade Parker. If any husky guy, as I fancy Master Maloney would phrase it, is anxious to aim a swift kick at the man behind those articles, he must distribute it evenly between Comrade Windsor and myself.”

“I see.” Mr. Parker paused. “They are⁠—er⁠—very outspoken articles,” he added.

“Warm stuff,” agreed Psmith. “Distinctly warm stuff.”

“May I speak frankly?” said Mr. Parker.

“Assuredly, Comrade Parker. There must be no secrets, no restraint between us. We would not have you go away and say to yourself, ‘Did I make my meaning clear? Was I too elusive?’ Say on.”

“I am speaking in your best interests.”

“Who would doubt it, Comrade Parker. Nothing has buoyed us up more strongly during the hours of doubt through which we have passed than the knowledge that you wish us well.”

Billy Windsor suddenly became militant. There was a feline smoothness about the visitor which had been jarring upon him ever since he first spoke. Billy was of the plains, the home of blunt speech, where you looked your man in the eye and said it quick. Mr. Parker was too bland for human consumption. He offended Billy’s honest soul.

“See here,” cried he, leaning forward, “what’s it all about? Let’s have it. If you’ve anything to say about those articles, say it right out. Never mind our best interests. We can look after them. Let’s have what’s worrying you.”

Psmith waved a deprecating hand.

“Do not let us be abrupt on this happy occasion. To me it is enough simply to sit and chat with Comrade Parker, irrespective of the trend of his conversation. Still, as time is money, and this is our busy day, possibly it might be as well, sir, if you unburdened yourself as soon as convenient. Have you come to point out some flaw in those articles? Do they fall short in any way of your standard for such work?”

Mr. Parker’s smooth face did not change its expression, but he came to the point.

“I should not go on with them if I were you,” he said.

“Why?” demanded Billy.

“There are reasons why you should not,” said Mr. Parker.

“And there are reasons why we should.”

“Less powerful ones.”

There proceeded from Billy a noise not describable in words. It was partly a snort, partly a growl. It resembled more than anything else the preliminary sniffing snarl a bulldog emits before he joins battle. Billy’s cowboy blood was up. He was rapidly approaching the state of mind in which the men of the plains, finding speech unequal to the expression of their thoughts, reach for their guns.

Psmith intervened.

“We do not completely gather your meaning, Comrade Parker. I fear we must ask you to hand it to us with still more breezy frankness. Do you speak from purely friendly motives? Are you advising us to discontinue the articles merely because you fear that they will damage our literary reputation? Or are there other reasons why you feel that they should cease? Do you speak solely as a literary connoisseur? Is it the style or the subject matter of which you disapprove?”

Mr. Parker leaned forward.

“The gentleman whom I represent⁠—”

“Then this is no matter of your own personal taste? You are an emissary?”

“These articles are causing a certain inconvenience to the gentleman whom I represent. Or, rather, he feels that, if continued, they may do so.”

“You mean,” broke in Billy explosively, “that if we kick up enough fuss to make somebody start a commission to inquire into this rotten business, your friend who owns the private Hades we’re trying to get improved, will have to get busy and lose some of his money by making the houses fit to live in? Is that it?”

“It is not so much the money, Mr. Windsor, though, of course, the expense would be considerable. My employer is a wealthy man.”

“I bet he is,” said Billy disgustedly. “I’ve no doubt he makes a mighty good pile out of Pleasant Street.”

“It is not so much the money,” repeated Mr. Parker, “as the publicity involved. I speak quite frankly. There are reasons why my employer would prefer not to come before the public just now as the owner of the Pleasant Street property. I need not go into those reasons. It is sufficient to say that they are strong ones.”

“Well, he knows what to do, I guess. The moment he starts in to make those houses decent, the articles stop. It’s up to him.”

Psmith nodded.

“Comrade Windsor is correct. He has hit the mark and rung the bell. No conscientious judge would withhold from Comrade Windsor a cigar or a coconut, according as his private preference might dictate. That is the matter in a nutshell. Remove the reason for those very scholarly articles, and they cease.”

Mr. Parker shook his head.

“I fear that is not feasible. The expense of reconstructing the houses makes that impossible.”

“Then there’s no use in talking,” said Billy. “The articles will go on.”

Mr. Parker coughed. A tentative cough, suggesting that the situation was now about to enter upon a more delicate phase. Billy and Psmith waited for him to begin. From their point of view the discussion was over. If it was to be reopened on fresh lines, it was for their visitor to effect that reopening.

“Now, I’m going to be frank, gentlemen,” said he, as who should say, “We are all friends here. Let us be hearty.” “I’m going to put my cards on the table, and see if we can’t fix something up. Now, see here: We don’t want unpleasantness. You aren’t in this business for your healths, eh? You’ve