tand no nonsense. If you don't see what you
want in the window, ask for it. Where did you think of tackling him?"

"Phyllis tells me that he always goes for a swim before breakfast. I
thought of going down to-morrow and waylaying him."

"You couldn't do better. By Jove!" said Ukridge suddenly. "I'll tell
you what I'll do, laddie. I wouldn't do it for everybody, but I look on
you as a favourite son. I'll come with you, and help break the ice."

"What!"

"Don't you be under any delusion, old horse," said Ukridge paternally.
"You haven't got an easy job in front of you and what you'll need more
than anything else, when you really get down to brass-tacks, is a wise,
kindly man of the world at your elbow, to whoop you on when your nerve
fails you and generally stand in your corner and see that you get a
fair show."

"But it's rather an intimate business...."

"Never mind! Take my tip and have me at your side. I can say things
about you that you would be too modest to say for yourself. I can plead
your case, laddie. I can point out in detail all that the old boy will
be missing if he gives you the miss-in-baulk. Well, that's settled,
then. About eight to-morrow morning, what? I'll be there, my boy. A
swim will do me good."

CHAPTER XIX

ASKING PAPA

Reviewing the matter later, I could see that I made one or two blunders
in my conduct of the campaign to win over Professor Derrick. In the
first place, I made a bad choice of time and place. At the moment this
did not strike me. It is a simple matter, I reflected, for a man to
pass another by haughtily and without recognition, when they meet on
dry land; but, when the said man, being it should be remembered, an
indifferent swimmer, is accosted in the water and out of his depth, the
feat becomes a hard one. It seemed to me that I should have a better
chance with the professor in the water than out of it.

My second mistake--and this was brought home to me almost
immediately--was in bringing Ukridge along. Not that I really brought
him along; it was rather a case of being unable to shake him off. When
he met me on the gravel outside the house at a quarter to eight on the
following morning, clad in a dingy mackintosh which, swinging open,
revealed a purple bathing-suit, I confess that my heart sank.
Unfortunately, all my efforts to dissuade him from accompanying me were
attributed by him to a pardonable nervousness--or, as he put it, to the
needle.

"Buck up, ladd