Bones in London

Brighton on Sunday."

Hamilton got up and walked slowly across the room with his hands in hispockets.

"You're thinking of running down to Brighton, are you?" he said. "Isit one of those kind of cars where you have to do your own running?"

Bones, with a good-natured smile, also rose from his desk and walked tothe window.

"My car," he said, and waved his hand to the street.

By craning his neck, Hamilton was able to get a view of the patch ofroadway immediately in front of the main entrance to the building. Andundoubtedly there was a car in waiting – a long, resplendent machinethat glittered in the morning sunlight.

"What's the pink cushion on the seat?" asked Hamilton.

"That's not a pink cushion, dear old myoptic," said Bones calmly;"that's my chauffeur – Ali ben Ahmed."

"Good lor!" said the impressed Hamilton. "You've a nerve to drive intothe City with a sky-blue Kroo boy."

Bones shrugged his shoulders.

"We attracted a certain amount of attention," he admitted, not withoutsatisfaction.

"Naturally," said Hamilton, going back to his desk. "People thoughtyou were advertising Pill Pellets for Pale Poultry. When did you buythis infernal machine?"

Bones, at his desk, crossed his legs and put his fingers together.

"Negotiations, dear old Ham, have been in progress for a month," herecited. "I have been taking lessons on the quiet, and to-day – proof!"He took out his pocket-book and threw a paper with a lordly air towardshis partner. It fell half-way on the floor.

"Don't trouble to get up," said Hamilton. "It's your motor licence.

You needn't be able to drive a car to get that."

And then Bones dropped his attitude of insouciance and became avociferous advertisement for the six-cylinder Carter-Crispley ("the bigcar that's made like a clock"). He became double pages withillustrations and handbooks and electric signs. He spoke of Carter andof Crispley individually and collectively with enthusiasm, affection, and reverence.

"Oh!" said Hamilton, when he had finished. "It sounds good."

"Sounds good!" scoffed Bones. "Dear old sceptical one, that car…"

And so forth.

All excesses being their own punishment, two days later Bones renewedan undesirable acquaintance. In the early days of Schemes, Ltd., Mr.Augustus Tibbetts had purchased a small weekly newspaper called theFlame. Apart from the losses he incurred during its short career, the experience was made remarkable by the fact that he becameacquainted with Mr. Jelf, a young and immensely self-satisfied man inpince-nez, who habitually spoke uncharitably of bishops, and neverreferred to members of the Government without causing sensitive peopleto shudder.

The members of the Government retaliated by never speaking of Jelf atall, so there was probably some purely private feud between them.

Jelf disapproved of everything. He was twenty-four years of age, andhe, too, had made the acquaintance of the Hindenburg Line. NaturallyBones thought of Jelf when he purchased the Flame.

From the first Bones had run the Flame with the object of exposingthings. He exposed Germans, Swedes, and Turks – which was safe. Heexposed a furniture dealer who had made him pay twice for an articlebecause a receipt was lost, and that cost money. He exposed a man whohad been very rude to him in the City. He would have exposed JamesJacobus Jelf, only that individual showed such eagerness to expose hisown shortcomings, at a guinea a column, that Bones had lost interest.

His stock of personal grievances being exhausted, he had gone in for ageneral line of exposure which embraced members of the aristocracy andthe Stock Exchange.

If Bones did not like a man's face, he exposed him. He had a columnheaded "What I Want to Know," and signed "Senob." in which suchpertinent queries appeared as:

"When will the naughty old lord who owns a sky-blue motor-car, andwears pink spats, realise that his treatment of his tenants is adisgrace to his ancient lineage?"

This was one of James Jacobus Jelf's contributed efforts. It happenedon this particular occasion that there was only one lord in England whoowned a sky-blue car and blush-rose spats, and it cost Bones twohundred pounds to settle his lordship.

Soon after this, Bones disposed of the paper, and instructed Mr. Jelfnot to call again unless he called in an ambulance – an instructionwhich afterwards filled him with apprehension, since he knew that J. J.J. would charge up the ambulance to the office.

Thus matters stood two days after his car had made its publicappearance, and Bones sat confronting the busy pages of his garage bill.

On this day he had had his lunch brought into the office, and he was ina maze of calculation, when there came a knock at the door.

"Come in!" he yelled, and, as there was no answer, walked to the doorand opened it.

A young man stood in the doorway – a young man very earnest and verymysterious – none other than James Jacobus Jelf.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Bones unfavourably "I thought it wassomebody important."

Jelf tiptoed into the room and closed the door securely behind him.

"Old man," he said, in tones little above a whisper, "I've got afortune for you."

"Dear old libeller, leave it with the lift-man," said Bones. "He has awife and three children."

Mr. Jelf examined his watch.

"I've got to get away at three o'clock, old man," he said.

"Don't let me keep you, old writer," said Bones with insolentindifference.

Jelf smiled.

"I'd rather not say where I'm going," he volunteered. "It's a scoop, and if it leaked out, there would be the devil to pay."

"Oh!" said Bones, who knew Mr. Jelf well. "I thought it was somethinglike that."

"I'd like to tell you, Tibbetts," said Jelf regretfully, "but you knowhow particular one has to be when one is dealing with matters affectingthe integrity of ministers."

"I know, I know," responded Bones, wilfully dense, "especially huffyold vicars, dear old thing."

"Oh, them!" said Jelf, extending his contempt to the rules which governthe employment of the English language. "I don't worry about thosepoor funny things. No, I am speaking of a matter – you have heard aboutG.?" he asked suddenly.

"No," said Bones with truth.

Jelf looked astonished.

"What!" he said incredulously. "You in the heart of things, and don'tknow about old G.?"

"No, little Mercury, and I don't want to know," said Bones, busyinghimself with his papers.