A Drones Club tale, featuring Adolphus Stiffingham.

The Eggs, Beans and Crumpets of the Drones Club noted that the resident millionaire, Oofy Prosser, was sore as a gumboil. The reason for this disgruntled mood was because Oofy had made a bet that club member Adolphus "Stiffy" Stiffingham would never, when speaking of marriage, do so much as get Geraldine Spettisbury even near a church aisle. And the fact that Geraldine's father, old Wivelscombe, had caught Stiffy kissing her and kicked him a record (for the county) distance of eleven feet, two inches.

Stiffy figured that if he could make a fortune in America and come back a rich man, that old Wivelscombe would look more kindly on him. So, Stiffy boarded the boat for America and went to New York. Settling into a hotel room, Stiffy went out into the streets and was taken by a shady looking man to a parking lot garage where a new game called "craps" was in progress.

Stiffy sort of picked up on how the game worked and when a man bet "ten" that the thrower would not roll eleven, Stiffy, figuring that ten dollars was not much, agreed and took the bet. He had no idea that "ten" meant ten thousand and winced when the dice were thrown. But, the fellow did throw eleven and Stiffy suddenly found himself walking away from the game with ten thousand dollars in his pocket.

Stiffy put the money into a bank and went off to celebrate. He gathered an odd sort of followers who always like a free drink and partied into the night. When Freddie awoke the next morning, he was in a strange room by himself and exited to go down to the streets. He figured he better get some more money in case he needed a cab, so he made his way to his bank.

Approaching the bank doors Stiffy observed the doors were locked, and looking inside through the glass of the door saw that the lights were out and the place empty. Odd. Then it dawned on Stiffy that bank had obviously fallen victim to the dictates of the times, where banks suddenly find themselves broke and close their doors for good. This evidently was what Stiffy's bank had done. He turned to go think about this.

His thoughts turned to how he wouldn't be here had old Wivelscombe not kicked him and blessed his union with Geraldine. Stiffy had a few good chosen words to say to Wivelscombe and, now that all was lost in a bust bank, he would certainly write a letter telling old W. these words, and maybe a few extra at that.

He went back to his hotel room, wrote a searing letter to old Wivelscombe, stamped it and went down to the lobby and dropped it in the postal box. He walked over to the hotel manager and told him he would have to evict him because the bank had closed and he could not get any more money to pay him.

The manager replied asking what could Stiffy expect from a bank on a Sunday. On Sundays banks were all closed. Stiffy's eyes widened. Where did Saturday go? His head still ached from the celebrating party and that is where Saturday must have gone. His thoughts now turned to the letter he had just posted. He could not get it back. It was on its way to England.

The only thing for Stiffy to do was return to England and get to Wivelscombe's breakfast nook when the butler brought in the mail. If he could snatch the letter away before old Wivelscombe came to eat and read his mail, he would be at least that much ahead.

It was days later that Stiffy arrived in England and stood out in the Wivelscombe grounds, gazing up lovingly at Geraldine's bedroom window. He had no idea that old Wivelscombe took this moment to gaze out his bedroom window and look a bit less lovingly at the figure of Adolphus. Wivelscombe had to rub his eye and blink considerably because he could not believe he was seeing the image of a man he knew to be in New York. This must be the ghost of Adolphus, come to haunt him.
As he looked back on the ground, Adolphus was gone.

Adolphus had not disappeared as a ghost. He was taking his post outside the French doors of Wivelscombe's dining room. The butler brought in the mail and exited. Stiffy moved like a race horse to zip in and grab the letter, but, before he could exit, heard steps coming and lunged under the breakfast table. He saw the bedroom slippers of Wivelscombe as he took his seat and dropped a napkin. Bending down to retrieve the napkin, Wivelscombe was looking into eyes, face to face as it were, with Stiffy. He shot back up and called for his butler Gascoigne.

He told Gascoigne he was seeing spirits and asked him to look under the table to ascertain there was indeed a ghost residing there. Gascoigne bent down and peered at Stiffy who thrust a tenner into his hand, putting his finger to his lips to assure secrecy. When asked if he saw a ghost, Gascoigne replied that the light was weak under the table and he would need another look. He took this look as Stiffy handed him another tenner.

Gascoigne remarked that No, there were no ghosts under the table. Wivelscombe rose from his chair and left the room a shaken man. Stiffy took this departure as a cue to hurry up the stairs to Geraldine's bedroom and told her all. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Stiffy jumped into the clothes closet just as her father entered. He informed her she was looking at a haunted man. Haunted by the spectre of Adolphus Stiffham whom he saw nip into the clothes closet as he came into the room. He asked Geraldine to look in the closet to see if this was so.

Geraldine looked in to view Adolphus, then turned to tell her father that there were no spectres present. Wivelscombe let out a hollow groan and said it was payback for how he treated Adolphus. What was he to do, what was he to do, he asked his daughter.

There was only one answer replied Geraldine. They must wire Adolphus to come home for a wedding to which he, Wivelscombe, gives his father's blessing. Old Wivelscombe asks for another less frightening answer, and Geraldine assures him that her idea is the only way out.

Wivelscombe agrees and soon the wedding bells were ringing at St. George's, Hanover Square. And that is how Stiffy's nuptial bliss was the downfall of Oofy Prosser's supposed betting prowess.