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Page 58
Mr Bickersdyke seemed to think them so. He rose again, and returned to
the first room.
'I have made you restless,' said Psmith, in a voice of self-reproach,
when he had settled himself once more by the manager's side. 'I am
sorry. I will not pursue the subject. Indeed, I believe that my fears
are unnecessary. Statistics show, I understand, that large numbers of
men emerge in safety every year from Turkish Baths. There was another
matter of which I wished to speak to you. It is a somewhat delicate
matter, and I am only encouraged to mention it to you by the fact that
you are so close a friend of my father's.'
Mr Bickersdyke had picked up an early edition of an evening paper, left
on the table at his side by a previous bather, and was to all
appearances engrossed in it. Psmith, however, not discouraged,
proceeded to touch upon the matter of Mike.
'There was,' he said, 'some little friction, I hear, in the office
today in connection with a cheque.' The evening paper hid the manager's
expressive face, but from the fact that the hands holding it tightened
their grip Psmith deduced that Mr Bickersdyke's attention was not
wholly concentrated on the City news. Moreover, his toes wriggled. And
when a man's toes wriggle, he is interested in what you are saying.
'All these petty breezes,' continued Psmith sympathetically, 'must be
very trying to a man in your position, a man who wishes to be left
alone in order to devote his entire thought to the niceties of the
higher Finance. It is as if Napoleon, while planning out some intricate
scheme of campaign, were to be called upon in the midst of his
meditations to bully a private for not cleaning his buttons. Naturally,
you were annoyed. Your giant brain, wrenched temporarily from its
proper groove, expended its force in one tremendous reprimand of
Comrade Jackson. It was as if one had diverted some terrific electric
current which should have been controlling a vast system of machinery,
and turned it on to annihilate a black-beetle. In the present case, of
course, the result is as might have been expected. Comrade Jackson, not
realizing the position of affairs, went away with the absurd idea that
all was over, that you meant all you said--briefly, that his number was
up. I assured him that he was mistaken, but no! He persisted in
declaring that all was over, that you had dismissed him from the bank.'
Mr Bickersdyke lowered the paper and glared bulbously at the old
Etonian.
'Mr Jackson is perfectly right,' he snapped. 'Of course I dismissed
him.'
'Yes, yes,' said Psmith, 'I have no doubt that at the moment you did
work the rapid push. What I am endeavouring to point out is that
Comrade Jackson is under the impression that the edict is permanent,
that he can hope for no reprieve.'
'Nor can he.'
'You don't mean--'
'I mean what I say.'
'Ah, I quite understand,' said Psmith, as one who sees that he must
make allowances. 'The incident is too recent. The storm has not yet had
time to expend itself. You have not had leisure to think the matter
over coolly. It is hard, of course, to be cool in a Turkish Bath. Your
ganglions are still vibrating. Later, perhaps--'
'Once and for all,' growled Mr Bickersdyke, 'the thing is ended. Mr
Jackson will leave the bank at the end of the month. We have no room
for fools in the office.'
'You surprise me,' said Psmith. 'I should not have thought that the
standard of intelligence in the bank was extremely high. With the
exception of our two selves, I think that there are hardly any men of
real intelligence on the staff. And comrade Jackson is improving every
day. Being, as he is, under my constant supervision he is rapidly
developing a stranglehold on his duties, which--'
'I have no wish to discuss the matter any further.'
'No, no. Quite so, quite so. Not another word. I am dumb.'
'There are limits you see, to the uses of impertinence, Mr Smith.'
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