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Page 56
"Awfully good of you," said Ashe.
"Not at all," said Mr. Baxter.
"You lose your way in a place like this," said Ashe.
"You certainly do," said Mr. Baxter.
Ashe went on his upward path and in a few moments was knocking at
the door indicated. And sure enough it was Mr. Peters' voice that
invited him to enter.
Mr. Peters, partially arrayed in the correct garb for gentlemen
about to dine, was standing in front of the mirror, wrestling
with his evening tie. As Ashe entered he removed his fingers and
anxiously examined his handiwork. It proved unsatisfactory. With
a yelp and an oath, he tore the offending linen from his neck.
"Damn the thing!"
It was plain to Ashe that his employer was in no sunny mood.
There are few things less calculated to engender sunniness in a
naturally bad-tempered man than a dress tie that will not let
itself be pulled and twisted into the right shape. Even when
things went well, Mr. Peters hated dressing for dinner. Words
cannot describe his feelings when they went wrong.
There is something to be said in excuse for this impatience: It
is a hollow mockery to be obliged to deck one's person as for a
feast when that feast is to consist of a little asparagus and a
few nuts.
Mr. Peters' eye met Ashe's in the mirror.
"Oh, it's you, is it? Come in, then. Don't stand staring. Close
that door quick! Hustle! Don't scrape your feet on the floor.
Try to look intelligent. Don't gape. Where have you been all this
while? Why didn't you come before? Can you tie a tie? All right,
then--do it!"
Somewhat calmed by the snow-white butterfly-shaped creation that
grew under Ashe's fingers, he permitted himself to be helped into
his coat. He picked up the remnant of a black cigar from the
dressing-table and relit it.
"I've been thinking about you," he said.
"Yes?" said Ashe.
"Have you located the scarab yet?"
"No."
"What the devil have you been doing with yourself then? You've
had time to collar it a dozen times."
"I have been talking to the butler."
"What the devil do you waste time talking to butlers for? I
suppose you haven't even located the museum yet?"
"Yes; I've done that."
"Oh, you have, have you? Well, that's something. And how do you
propose setting about the job?"
"The best plan would be to go there very late at night."
"Well, you didn't propose to stroll in in the afternoon, did you?
How are you going to find the scarab when you do get in?"
Ashe had not thought of that. The deeper he went into this
business the more things did there seem to be in it of which he
had not thought.
"I don't know," he confessed.
"You don't know! Tell me, young man, are you considered pretty
bright, as Englishmen go?"
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