“Much obliged, sir. Speaking of Nero Wolfe—”
“I am about to.” He shoved the papers aside. “That’s why I sent for you. Is he crazy?”
“That’s one theory.” I looked judicious and crossed my legs, remembered who I was now, and uncrossed them. “He’s a great man, I grant that, but you know what it was that made the Australian wild dog so wild. Assistant is not the word for it. I was a combination accelerator and brake. I may mention that my pay was roughly three times what it is at the moment. Of course if I were made a colonel—”
“How long have you been a major?”
“Three days.”
He pronounced a certain word, just one word, very snappy.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He nodded curtly, to signify that that was settled for good, and went on. “We need Nero Wolfe. Not necessarily in uniform, but we need him. I don’t know whether he deserves his reputation—”
“He does,” I declared. “I hate to admit it, but he does.”
“Very well. That seems to be the prevailing opinion. And we need him, and we’ve tried to get him. He has been seen by Captain Cross and by Colonel Ryder, and he refused to call on General Fife. I have a report here—”