ked up in the street) until I can pay you
back. This is of more value to me than I can well express, Licky, my
boy. A very, very dear friend gave it to me when we parted, years
ago... It's a wrench... Still,--no, no... You must take it, you must
take it. Licky, old man, shake hands, old horse. Shake hands, my boy.'
He then tottered to the bar, deeply moved, and paid up out of the five
shillings which he had made it as an after-thought. He asked after you,
and said you were one of the noblest men on earth. I gave him your
address, not being able to get out of it, but if I were you I should
fly while there is yet time."

It seemed to me that the advice was good and should be followed. I
needed a change of air. London may have suited Doctor Johnson, but in
the summer time it is not for the ordinary man. What I wanted, to
enable me to give the public of my best (as the reviewer of a weekly
paper, dealing with my last work, had expressed a polite hope that I
would continue to do) was a little haven in the country somewhere.

I rang the bell.

"Sir?" said Mrs. Medley.

"I'm going away for a bit," I said.

"Yes, sir."

"I don't know where. I'll send you the address, so that you can forward
letters."

"Yes, sir."

"And, if Mr. Ukridge calls again..."

At this point a thunderous knocking on the front door interrupted me.
Something seemed to tell me who was at the end of that knocker. I heard
Mrs. Medley's footsteps pass along the hall. There was the click of the
latch. A volume of sound rushed up the stairs.

"Is Mr. Garnet in? Where is he? Show me the old horse. Where is the man
of wrath? Exhibit the son of Belial."

There followed a violent crashing on the stairs, shaking the house.

"Garnet! Where are you, laddie? Garnet!! GARNET!!!!!"

Stanley Featherstonehaugh Ukridge was in my midst.

CHAPTER II

MR. AND MRS. S. F. UKRIDGE

I have often thought that Who's Who, though a bulky and well-meaning
volume, omits too many of England's greatest men. It is not
comprehensive enough. I am in it, nestling among the G's:--

"Garnet, Jeremy, o.s. of late Henry Garnet, vicar of Much Middlefold,
Salop; author. Publications: 'The Outsider,' 'The Manoeuvres of
Arthur.' Hobbies: Cricket, football, swimming, golf. Clubs: Arts."

But if you search among the U's for UKRIDGE, Stanley Featherstonehaugh,
details of whose tempestuous career would make really interesting
reading, you find no mention of him. It seems unfa