“I had better tell you the whole position. This boy is the nephew of a business acquaintance of mine in America, with whom I am in the process of conducting some very delicate negotiations. He, the boy, is over here at the moment, working on my staff, and I am, you will understand, practically responsible to his uncle for his behaviour. That is to say, should he do anything of which his uncle might disapprove, the blame will fall on me, and these negotiations--these very delicate negotiations--will undoubtedly be broken off. My American acquaintance is a peculiar man, you understand.” “Well?” “Well, I have just discovered that the boy is conducting a clandestine love affair with a girl of humble circumstances who resides in the suburb.” “A tooting tooti-frooti,” translated Chimp, nodding. “I see.” “A what?” asked Lord Tilbury, a little blankly. “A belle of Balham--Bertha from Brixton.” “She lives at Valley Fields. And this boy Shotter has taken the house next door to her. I beg your pardon?” “Nothing,” said Chimp in a thick voice. “I thought you spoke.” “No.” Chimp swallowed feverishly. “Did you say Shotter?” “Shotter.” “Taken a house in Valley Fields?” “Yes. In Burberry Road. Mon Repos is the name.” “Ah!” said Chimp, expelling a deep breath. “You see the position? All that can be done at present is to institute a close watch on the boy. It may be that I have allowed myself to become unduly alarmed. Possibly he does not contemplate so serious a step as marriage with this young woman. Nevertheless, I should be decidedly relieved if I felt that there was someone in his house watching his movements and making daily reports to me.” “I’ll take this case,” said Chimp. “Good! You will put a competent man on it?” “I wouldn’t trust it to one of my staff, not even Wilbraham or Donahue. I’ll take it on myself.” “That is very good of you, Mr. Adair.” “A pleasure,” said Chimp. “And now arises a difficult point. How do you propose to make your entry into young Shotter’s household?” “Easy as pie. Odd-job man.” “Odd-job man?” “They always want odd-job men down in the suburbs. Fellows who’ll do the dirty work that the help kick at. Listen here, you tell this young man that I’m a fellow that once worked for you and ask him to engage me as a personal favour. That’ll cinch it. He won’t like to refuse the boss--what I mean.” “True,” said Lord Tilbury. “True. But it will necessitate something in the nature of a change of costumes,” he went on, looking at the other’s shining tweeds. “Don’t you fret. I’ll dress the part.” “And what name would you suggest taking? Not your own, of course?” “I’ve always called myself Twist before.” “Twist? Excellent! Then suppose you come to my office in half an hour’s time.” “Sure!” “I am much obliged, Mr. Adair.” “Not at all,” said Chimp handsomely. “Not a-tall! Don’t mention it. Only too pleased.” § 3