He did hurry! By Jove, he was back almost immediately and looking a bit rattled.
"Yes, sir!"—he coughed as I screwed my glass inquiringly—"I got there just as the judge went into his room across the corridor, and Mr. Billings opened the door the minute I said I was from you. I gave him the package and the message and he took it over in a corner; and then in about a minute I heard him chuck it somewhere and say some long word. He came back to me, looking kinder irritated and with his eyes snapping."
"Oh!" I uttered nervously. "Er, what did he say, Jenkins?"
Jenkins sighed. "Oh, well, sir, nothing as you might say was anything, really; he jerks out kinder crossly: 'Tell Mr. Lightnut, I say one thing at a time, and give him this!'"
On the scrap of paper I clutched out of Jenkins' hand was a crazy scrawl of just a half-dozen words:
I'm a biped, not a centipede!
I squinted through the dashed thing twice, but could make nothing of it—I even tried it backward!
"Jove!" I muttered perplexedly. "It's rum, Jenkins!"
Jenkins' mouth tightened and relaxed. "H'm, what I thought, sir," he responded soberly. "The demon rum, sir!"