"That friend of yours is a nice girl, Bundle," said Lord Caterham.
Loraine had been at Chimneys for nearly a week, and had earned the high opinion of her host – mainly because of the charming readiness she had shown to be instructed in the science of the mashie shot.
Bored by his winter abroad, Lord Caterham had taken up golf. He was an execrable player and in consequence was profoundly enthusiastic over the game. He spent most of his mornings lofting mashie shots over various shrubs and bushes – or, rather, essaying to loft them, hacking large bits out of the velvety turf and generally reducing MacDonald to despair.
"We must lay out a little course," said Lord Caterham, addressing a daisy. "A sporting little course. Now then, just watch this one, Bundle. Off the right knee, slow back, keep the head still and use the wrists."
The ball, heavily topped, scudded across the lawn and disappeared into the unfathomed depths of a great bank of rhododendrons.
"Curious," said Lord Caterham. "What did I do then, I wonder? As I was saying, Bundle, that friend of yours is a very nice girl. I really think I am inducing her to take quite an interest in the game. She hit some excellent shots this morning – really quite as good as I could do myself."
Lord Caterham took another careless swing and removed an immense chunk of turf.
MacDonald, who was passing, retrieved it and stamped it firmly back. The look he gave Lord Caterham would have caused anyone but an ardent golfer to sink through the earth.
"If MacDonald has been guilty of cruelty to Cootes, which I strongly suspect," said Bundle, "he's being punished now."
"Why shouldn't I do as I like in my own garden?" demanded her father. "MacDonald ought to be interested in the way my game is coming on – the Scotch are a great golfing nation."
"You poor old man," said Bundle. "You'll never be a golfer – but at any rate it keeps you out of mischief."
"Not at all," said Lord Caterham. "I did the long sixth in five the other day. The pro was very surprised when I told him about it."
"He would be," said Bundle.
"Talking of Cootes, Sir Oswald plays a fair game – a very fair game. Not a pretty style – too stiff. But straight down the middle every time. But curious how the cloven hoof shows – won't give you a six-inch putt! Makes you put it in every time. Now I don't like that."
"I suppose he's a man who likes to be sure," said Bundle.
"It's contrary to the spirit of the game," said her father. "And he's not interested in the theory of the thing either. Says he just plays for exercise and doesn't bother about style. Now, that secretary chap, Bateman, is quite different. It's the theory interests him. I was slicing badly with my spoon; and he said it all came from too much right arm, and he evolved a very interesting theory. It's all left arm in golf – the left arm is the arm that counts. He says he plays tennis left handed but golf with ordinary clubs because there his superiority with the left arm tells."
"And did he play very marvellously?" inquired Bundle.
"No, he didn't," confessed Lord Caterham. "But then he may have been off his game. I see the theory all right and I think there's a lot in it. Ah! Did you see that one, Bundle? Right over the rhododendrons. A perfect shot. Ah! If one could be sure of doing that every time – Yes, Tredwell, what is it?"
Tredwell addressed Bundle.
"Mr. Thesiger would like to speak to you on the telephone, my lady."
Bundle set off at full speed for the house, yelling "Loraine, Loraine," as she did so. Loraine joined her just as she was lifting the receiver.
"Hallo, is that you, Jimmy?"
"Hallo. How are you?"
"Very fit, but a bit bored."
"How's Loraine?"
"She's all right. She's here. Do you want to speak to her?"
"In a minute. I've got a lot to say. To begin with, I'm going down to the Cootes for the weekend," he said significantly. "Now, look here, Bundle, you don't know how one gets hold of skeleton keys, do you?"
"Haven't the foggiest. Is it really necessary to take skeleton keys to the Cootes?"
"Well, I had a sort of idea they'd come in handy. You don't know the sort of shop one gets them at?"
"What you want is a kindly burglar friend to show you the ropes."
"I do, Bundle, I do. And unfortunately I haven't got one. I thought perhaps your bright brain might grapple successfully with the problem. But I suppose I shall have to fall back upon Stevens as usual. He'll be getting some funny ideas in his head soon about me – first a blue-nosed automatic – and now skeleton keys. He'll think I've joined the criminal classes."
"Jimmy?" said Bundle.
"Yes?"
"Look here – be careful, won't you? I mean if Sir Oswald finds you nosing around with skeleton keys – well, I should think he could be very unpleasant when he likes."
"Young man of pleasing appearance in the dock! All right, I'll be careful. Pongo's the fellow I'm really frightened of. He sneaks around so on those flat feet of his. You never hear him coming. And he always did have a genius for poking his nose in where he wasn't wanted. But trust to the boy hero."
"Well, I wish Loraine and I were going to be there to look after you."
"Thank you, nurse. As a matter of fact, though, I have a scheme."
"Yes?"
"Do you think you and Loraine might have a convenient car breakdown near Letherbury tomorrow morning? It's not so very far from you, is it."
"Forty miles. That's nothing."
"I thought it wouldn't be – to you! Don't kill Loraine though. I'm rather fond of Loraine. All right, then – somewhere round about quarter to half-past twelve."
"So that they invite us to lunch?"
"That's the idea. I say, Bundle, I ran into that girl Socks yesterday, and what do you think – Terence O'Rourke is going to be down there this weekend!"
"Jimmy, do you think he –?"
"Well – suspect everyone, you know. That's what they say. He's a wild lad, and daring as they make them. I wouldn't put it past him to run a secret society. He and the Countess might be in this together. He was out in Hungary last year."
"But he could pinch the formula any time."
"That's just what he couldn't. He'd have to do it under circumstances where he couldn't be suspected. But the retreat up the ivy and into his own bed – well, that would be rather neat. Now for instructions. After a few polite nothings to Lady Coote, you and Loraine are to get hold of Pongo and O'Rourke by hook or by crook and keep them occupied till lunch time. See? It oughtn't to be difficult for a couple of beautiful girls like you."
"You're using the best butter, I see."
"A plain statement of fact."
"Well, at any rate, your instructions are duly noted. Do you want to talk to Loraine now?"
Bundle passed over the receiver and tactfully left the room.