Try Your Luck with Professor Challenger

           IalwayslikedMcArdle,thecrabbed,old,round-backed,red-headednewseditor,andIratherhopedthathelikedme.Ofcourse,Beaumontwastherealboss;buthelivedintherarefiedatmosphereofsomeOlympianheightfromwhichhecoulddistinguishnothingsmallerthananinternationalcrisisorasplitintheCabinet.Sometimeswesawhimpassinginlonelymajestytohisinnersanctum,withhiseyesstaringvaguelyandhismindhoveringovertheBalkansorthePersianGulf.Hewasaboveandbeyondus.ButMcArdlewashisfirstlieutenant,anditwashethatweknew.TheoldmannoddedasIenteredtheroom,andhepushedhisspectaclesfaruponhisbaldforehead.

           "Well,Mr.Malone,fromallIhear,youseemtobedoingverywell,"saidheinhiskindlyScotchaccent.

           Ithankedhim.

           "Thecollieryexplosionwasexcellent.SowastheSouthwarkfire.Youhavethetruedescreeptivetouch.Whatdidyouwanttoseemeabout?"

           "Toaskafavor."

           Helookedalarmed,andhiseyesshunnedmine."Tut,tut!Whatisit?"

           "Doyouthink,Sir,thatyoucouldpossiblysendmeonsomemissionforthepaper?Iwoulddomybesttoputitthroughandgetyousomegoodcopy."

           "Whatsortofmeesionhadyouinyourmind,Mr.Malone?"

           "Well,Sir,anythingthathadadventureanddangerinit.Ireallywoulddomyverybest.Themoredifficultitwas,thebetteritwouldsuitme."

           "Youseemveryanxioustoloseyourlife."