#46: NONPLUSSED NICKELBY.

If Nickelby was at all taken aback when Drake greeted him, still wearing his mud-caked, sweat drenched pyjamas; with a large medieval weapon strapped to his back, the butler certainly did not show it. Nor did he so much as raise an eyebrow when he spotted the remains of the Canidon.

“I see you’ve managed to keep yourself occupied, Master Drake,”he said at last.

“Yes, more or less,” confirmed Drake. “How was your little holiday Nickelby?”

“Quite adequate sir, quite adequate,” reported the butler. “Although, I’m ready to resume my duties, sir.”

Drake would have none of it.

“Nonsense, Nickelby! You came back a day early, so technically you’re still on leave. You will do nothing until tomorrow. Now come on inside and I’ll fix us breakfast.”

Nickelby looked as though he would protest, but acquiesced anyway.

“Very well sir.”

Drake stuck his head into the luggage compartment of the Cessna.
“Nickelby, you’ve just spent several days in the Bahamas, correct?”

The butler nodded.

“Well then where are your bags?”

Nickelby’s expression didn’t change.
“I suppose they got misplaced, sir,” he replied. “You know how airports can be.”

Drake did.

He shrugged then followed his butler back to the house.