of Terence O'Reilly swam
suddenly into the headlines, and his wife began keeping a scrapbook of
all the clippings. One among them was destined to be more potent in
world affairs than all the rest. It was a "profile" of General O'Reilly
published in a great American magazine, and it was notable for two
things.

To begin with, it was the author of this profile who first gave the coin
the name by which it soon became so famous--the "Golden Judge."

But it also contained a casual, seemingly insignificant remark by
General O'Reilly. When the interviewer had asked how he happened to
think of the coin-tossing idea, the general had grinned. "Why not?" he
said. "Aren't the Irish the gamblingest people on earth?"

And it was this innocent sentence, hardly noticed at the time, that
started the "Golden Judge" on its fantastic career, and kept it from
being a mere nine-day wonder.

For a Chinese Communist diplomat in Berne, Switzerland, happened to see
it and, one night at a dinner party, he said mockingly: "This stupid
American general in Jerusalem is obviously ignorant of the world.
Otherwise, he would realize that no nation on earth loves gambling so
much as the Chinese. Anyone who knows the Orient will tell you this."

This made good cocktail party talk, a thing desperately needed in Berne,
and eventually reached the ears of an Associated Press correspondent. He
filed a paragraph on it for a box story and, in the inevitable way of
the press, a reporter in Jerusalem asked General O'Reilly for his
comment.

"Well," he said, "I've heard the Chinese are great gamblers indeed,
although whether more so than the Irish I beg leave to doubt."

Then his eyes twinkled. "Why don't they prove it? Why don't they toss a
coin, say, for Quemoy and Matsu? The danged little places aren't worth a
nickel to either side, and well they both know it. But they'll neither
of them back down a hair, for losing face. I say, if they think they're
the greatest gamblers on earth, let 'em prove it!"

This sped into print, caused a world-wide stir, and brought General
O'Reilly a sizzling reprimand from the Department of the Army. He was
not REPEAT NOT to express opinions about the value of allied territory.

He read the reprimand ruefully, reminded himself that another great
Irish failing was too much talk--and said good-by to any hopes for a
third star.

* * * * *

But this was before the black headlines from Formosa. With popp