As Psmith passed through the front door, Pugsy Maloney rose.
"Say!" said Master Maloney.
"Say on, Comrade Maloney," said Psmith.
"Dey're in dere."
"Who, precisely?"
"A whole bunch of dem."
Psmith inspected Master Maloney through his eye-glass. "Can
you give me any particulars?" he asked patiently. "You are
well-meaning, but vague, Comrade Maloney. Who are in there?"
"De whole bunch of dem. Dere's Mr. Asher and the Rev. Philpotts and
a gazebo what calls himself Waterman and about 'steen more of dem."
A faint smile appeared upon Psmith's face.
"And is Comrade Windsor in there, too, in the middle of them?"
"Nope. Mr. Windsor's out to lunch."
"Comrade Windsor knows his business. Why did you let them in?"
"Sure, dey just butted in," said Master Maloney complainingly. "I
was sittin' here, readin' me book, when de foist of de guys blew
in. 'Boy,' says he, 'is de editor in?' 'Nope,' I says. 'I'll go in
an' wait,' says he. 'Nuttin' doin',' says I. 'Nix on de goin' in
act.' I might as well have saved me breat'. In he butts, and he's
in der now. Well, in about t'ree minutes along comes another
gazebo. 'Boy,' says he, 'is de editor in?' 'Nope,' I says. 'I'll
wait,' says he lightin' out for de door. Wit dat I sees de
proposition's too fierce for muh. I can't keep dese big husky guys
out if dey's for buttin' in.
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