★ 26 ★
Stirring Times for Sir Thomas
For a man whose intentions towards the jewels and their owner were so innocent, and even benevolent, Jimmy was in a singularly compromising position. It would have been difficult, even under more favourable conditions, to have explained to Sir Thomas’s satisfaction his presence in the dressing-room. As things stood it was even harder, for his lordship’s last action before seeking cover had been to fling the necklace from him like a burning coal. For the second time in ten minutes it had fallen to the carpet, and it was just as Jimmy straightened himself after picking it up that Sir Thomas got a full view of him.
The knight stood in the doorway, his face expressing the most lively astonishment. His bulging eyes were fixed upon the necklace in Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy could see him struggling to find words to cope with so special a situation, and he felt rather sorry for him. Excitement of this kind was bad for a short-necked man of Sir Thomas’s type.
With kindly tact he endeavoured to help him out.
“Good evening,” he said pleasantly.
Sir Thomas stammered. He was gradually nearing speech.
“What—what—what——” he said.
“Out with it,” said Jimmy.
“What——”
“I knew a man once in South Dakota who stammered,” said Jimmy. “He used to chew dog-biscuit while he was speaking. It cured him, besides being nutritious. Another good way is to count ten while you’re thinking what to say, and then get it out quick.”