Psmith eyed him benevolently. "If you will pardon the expression, Comrade Parker," he said, "'Aha!' Meaning that I propose to keep that information to myself." Mr. Parker shrugged his shoulders. "You know your own business, I guess." Psmith nodded. "You are absolutely correct, Comrade Parker. I do. Now that _Cosy Moments_ has our excellent friend Comrade Jarvis on its side, are you not to a certain extent among the Blenheim Oranges? I think so. I think so." As he spoke there was a rap at the door. A small boy entered. In his hand was a scrap of paper. "Guy asks me give dis to gazebo named Smiff," he said. "There are many gazebos of that name, my lad. One of whom I am which, as Artemus Ward was wont to observe. Possibly the missive is for me." He took the paper. It was dated from an address on the East Side. "Dear Smith," it ran. "Come here as quick as you can, and bring some money. Explain when I see you." It was signed "W. W." So Billy Windsor had fulfilled his promise. He had escaped. A feeling of regret for the futility of the thing was Psmith's first emotion. Billy could be of no possible help in the campaign at its present point. All the work that remained to be done could easily be carried through without his assistance. And by breaking out from the Island he had committed an offence which was bound to carry with it serious penalties. For the first time since his connection with _Cosy Moments_ began Psmith was really disturbed. He turned to Mr. Parker. "Comrade Parker," he said, "I regret to state that this office is now closing for the day. But for this, I should be delighted to sit chatting with you. As it is--" "Very well," said Mr. Parker. "Then you mean to go on with this business?" "Though it snows, Comrade Parker." They went out into the street, Psmith thoughtful and hardly realising the other's presence. By the side of the pavement a few yards down the road a taximeter-cab was standing. Psmith hailed it. Mr. Parker was still beside him. It occurred to Psmith that it would not do to let him hear the address Billy Windsor had given in his note. "Turn and go on down the street," he said to the driver. He had taken his seat and was closing the door, when it was snatched from his grasp and Mr. Parker darted on to the seat opposite. The next moment the cab had started up the street instead of down and the hard muzzle of a revolver was pressing against Psmith's waistcoat. "Now what?" said Mr. Parker smoothly, leaning back with the pistol resting easily on his knee. CHAPTER XXVI A FRIEND IN NEED "The point is well taken," said Psmith thoughtfully. "You think so?" said Mr. Parker. "I am convinced of it." "Good. But don't move. Put that hand back where it was." "You think of everything, Comrade Parker."