A yell of welcome drowned the tumult of the looters.
"Is that you, Garny, old horse? What's up? What's the matter? Has
everybody gone mad? Who are those blackguardly scoundrels in the fowl
run? What are they doing? What's been happening?"
"I have been entertaining a little meeting of your creditors," I said.
"And now they are entertaining themselves."
"But what did you let them do it for?"
"What is one among so many?" I said.
"Oh," moaned Ukridge, as a hen flashed past us, pursued by a criminal,
"it's a little hard. I can't go away for a day--"
"You can't," I said. "You're right there. You can't go away without a
word--"
"Without a word? What do you mean? Garny, old boy, pull yourself
together. You're overexcited. Do you mean to tell me you didn't get my
note?"
"What note?"
"The one I left on the dining-room table."
"There was no note there."
"What!"
I was reminded of the scene that had taken place on the first day of
our visit.
"Feel in your pockets," I said.
And history repeated itself. One of the first things he pulled out was
the note.
"Why, here it is!" he said in amazement.
"Of course. Where did you expect it to be? Was it important?"
"Why, it explained the whole thing."
"Then," I said, "I wish you'd let me read it. A note that can explain
what's happened ought to be worth reading."