The dogs of war are now loose."
A heavy body crashed against the door.
"They'll have it down," said Jellicoe.
"We must act, Comrade Jackson! Might I trouble you just to turn that key
quietly, and the handle, and then to stand by for the next attack."
There was a scrambling of feet in the passage outside, and then a
repetition of the onslaught on the door. This time, however, the door,
instead of resisting, swung open, and the human battering ram staggered
through into the study. Mike, turning after relocking the door, was just
in time to see Psmith, with a display of energy of which one would not
have believed him capable, grip the invader scientifically by an arm
and a leg.
Mike jumped to help, but it was needless; the captive was already on the
windowsill. As Mike arrived, Psmith dropped him onto the
flowerbed below.
Psmith closed the window gently and turned to Jellicoe. "Who was our
guest?" he asked, dusting the knees of his trousers where they had
pressed against the wall.
"Robinson. I say, you _are_ a chap!"
"Robinson, was it? Well, we are always glad to see Comrade Robinson,
always. I wonder if anybody else is thinking of calling?"
Apparently frontal attack had been abandoned.
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