As Jeeves and self were walking the last few paces to the caves, there being no roads for our trusty chariot after a certain point, I stopped and held up the warning hand.

"Do you hear that, Jeeves? It sounds like Aunt Dahlia in conversation with a horse that embarked on a folding of the hands in sleep mid-race."

"It certainly sounds like an individual in some agitation, sir. I do not recognize the language."

I nodded sagely. "Just like Aunt Dahlia's when she's full of wrath and righteous i."

"Except that this voice is decidedly masculine."

"A difference, yes."

We hurried our pace to the caves and saw a strange glowing light, a bit like the one I saw after a night of conviviality at the Drones, and then inside the cave itself, saw Jonathan Kent collapsed on the floor. The voice was coming from one of the cave walls.

Jeeves hastened to render first aid while the young master took charge of the situation in the fine old Wooster tradition. "I say, what's going on here?"

The voice that had been raised in anger responded, "He was not suitable." It paused and then said, "Nor is the intelligent one. You are the only one available before the powers are exhausted."

My pride stung, I bristled. "Why does everybody think that Jeeves is exclusively the brains of the party? Of course, his brains are beyond those of mortal men, but when Glossop and his ilk, including several aunts, say that I am fit only for a home, they err."

There was another burst of language I didn't understand but in a tone that left no room for d. "You will go to Metropolis and bring my son back." I'd been looking with a bit of worry at the elder Kent, but Jeeves had him sitting upright.

"Er, your son? Because if he's another glowing light, how exactly can I-"

"My son Kal-El. Here known as Clark Kent."

"Are you sure, old bean? Because jolly old Clark struck me as being like Jeeves' old pal Lucy, 'a violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye,' not like Uncle Fred, who is always darting off to the city to raise troubles and furrow the brows of the respectable citizenry. And Clark introduced Mr. Kent here as his father."

"I am certain. Now, go. Immediately."

I stood my ground. "What about Mr. Kent? He doesn't seem in the pink of health and Woosters don't abandon their pals."

"I will restore him to full health and repair the underlying flaws in his heart that your primitive medicine could not detect."

I'd actually been ready to refuse since I didn't see why Clark should be dragged back just on an indignant say so, but this made a difference. "Right ho."

"You will need powers equivalent to his in order to bring him back."

I do keep fit, don't you know, regular swimming and ropes at the Drones, as well as fairly regular hoofing it away from irritated family and others, but a second later, I felt as though I could outrace most of the horses at the next Ascot, not just the snails in disguise that I always seem to put my money on. The elder Kent got up just then, wincing, but more like somebody who's remembering a monumental hangover after drinking one of Jeeves' concoctions rather than before, when the pain is all too real.

"Mr. Kent, perhaps you could come with us in an advisory capacity."

"Jeeves, you took the words right out of my mouth."

In the drive to Metropolis, he filled us in on the details. The most salient one, if that's the word I'm looking for, was that I had to get a ring with a red stone off his hand. Now once or twice I've had rings thrown at me, when somehow my role as friendly Cupid between two pals didn't quite work out when I was trying to explain to party one how it looked like party two wasn't as enthusiastic as before but was really still as keen as mustard, but this was a horse of a different c. Clark was going to hang onto that ring no matter what, so I'd have to use strength and guile. In a moment when the honest farmer was distracted, Jeeves whispered in my ear that guile was probably the way to go, Clark not being the first one you'd go to if you were seeking an explanation of the deepest details of Einstein, for example.

I parked outside the LuthorCorp tower, not the friendliest piece of architecture I'd seen in the world. But Clark seemed to like it since he was up on the very top floor as I could see with my perfect new eyes. Mr. Kent told me that I not only had perfect vision but that if need be I could see through things, set them on fire with my eyes, and hear things from a mile away if I needed, a power I thought restricted only to aunts and such ferocious beings, as well as being invincibly strong and fast.

I raced up the stairs finding that the speed was everything the advertisement said and more besides. Clark was looking around with a smirk that suggested a pleased Hermione Glossop, which usually bodes ill for all in her path.

"Hullo, hullo!" I stepped forth.

"Bertie Wooster? You're the one they sent?"

"I say, that's a new look for you." I sighed a bit. "It's clear that you don't have a Jeeves telling you that your latest pick in styles is not at all acceptable."

"Nobody tells me what to do any more. You can tell them that from me."

"Now just give me half a mo-"

He smashed a convenient desk into pieces. "Tell them that from me."

"Believe me, I know how you feel. I always have people trying to drag me out of London or throw me out of various places. But-"

"But nothing. Get out."

I've been on the receiving end of many expert gendarmes' attentions and knew what to do. I grabbed him by the collar and for just a moment, I thought that he was going to go quietly. Then he turned around and slugged me.

I was a bit surprised to find myself flying through the air but not feeling much more than a discreet maitre de's tap either when he hit me or when I landed. It went on like that for a bit, rather as though we were practicing cricket but tossing one another instead of the balls.

I landed in a pile of what was left of some furniture and noticed Jeeves out of the corner of my eye. "Remember, sir, what we discussed in the car."

"You mean, about when Gussie and Madeleine were hearts torn asunder?" I'm all in favor of thinking fondly of friends, don't you know, but this didn't seem quite the time.

"No, sir, the other topic."

I thought about that while dodging Clark instead of grappling, in case that would help cogitation. Then the light dawned.

"Right, Jeeves, it had completely slipped my mind." I turned back to Clark. "Did you know that your father had a heart condition that wasn't diagnosed? Jor-El fixed it, which is pretty handy. Do you think he'd make house calls? I forgot to ask."

"He's not my father!"

Jeeves sounded concerned. "No, another topic beyond that." I continued to dodge, since it seemed to help the mental processes. For some reason, this seemed to irritate Clark, though I thought it did make things easier on the surroundings. I looked to Jeeves to see if he could give me a clue of some sort and when my attention was momentarily distracted, Clark pushed me against a wall and grabbed me by the throat. He aimed a fist right at my face, and having gotten a lot of practice, I dodged again.

There was an extra loud noise and Clark stared at his hand. Curious, I took a look, too, and saw that the ring had broken and remembered that that was what Jeeves had meant. The poor chap, Clark, I mean, not Jeeves, looked absolutely confused and wretched for a moment, like at cat who's been left out all night in the rain, and I gave his shoulder a comforting pat.

"Mr. Kent?" Jeeves had come closer now that things were calmer. "Your father is downstairs in the car, waiting for you. He's missed you very much." Clark looked at him doubtfully for a moment and then bolted.

"You see, Jeeves, guile did triumph after all. All that dodging, you know."

"I'm sure of it, sir."

I was rather disappointed to lose the powers, because I certainly would have been able to win all sorts of bets at the Drones, all along the lines of saying "I can pick that table up with one hand and run through Picadilly Circus with it and nobody would be able to catch me," and betting on the subsequent disagreements, but then, Jeeves said that such powers could bring unwanted attention, possibly from the unscrupulous.

"I suppose you're right, Jeeves."