news department. The good old Scotchman shook
his head, scratched his dwindling fringe of ruddy fluff, and finally put
his reluctance into words.

"I was thinking, Mr. Malone, that we could employ you to advantage these
days. I was thinking there was a story that you are the only man that
could handle as it should be handled."

"I am sorry for that," said I, trying to hide my disappointment. "Of
course if I am needed, there is an end of the matter. But the engagement
was important and intimate. If I could be spared----"

"Well, I don't see that you can."

It was bitter, but I had to put the best face I could upon it. After
all, it was my own fault, for I should have known by this time that a
journalist has no right to make plans of his own.

"Then I'll think no more of it," said I with as much cheerfulness as I
could assume at so short a notice. "What was it that you wanted me to
do?"

"Well, it was just to interview that deevil of a man down at Rotherfield."

"You don't mean Professor Challenger?" I cried.

"Aye, it's just him that I do mean. He ran young Alec Simpson of the
Courier a mile down the high road last week by the collar of his coat and
the slack of his breeches. You'll have read of it, likely, in the police
report. Our boys would as soon interview a loose alligator in the zoo.
But you could do it, I'm thinking--an old friend like you."

"Why," said I, greatly relieved, "this makes it all easy. It so happens
that it was to visit Professor Challenger at Rotherfield that I was
asking for leave of absence. The fact is, that it is the anniversary of
our main adventure on the plateau three years ago, and he has asked our
whole party down to his house to see him and celebrate the occasion."

"Capital!" cried McArdle, rubbing his hands and beaming through his
glasses. "Then you will be able to get his opeenions out of him. In any
other man I would say it was all moonshine, but the fellow has made good
once, and who knows but he may again!"

"Get what out of him?" I asked. "What has he been doing?"

"Haven't you seen his letter on 'Scientific Possibeelities' in to-day's
Times?"

"No."

McArdle dived down and picked a copy from the floor.

"Read it aloud," said he, indicating a column with his finger. "I'd be
glad to hear it again, for I am not sure now that I have the man's
meaning clear in my head."

This was the letter which I read to the news editor of the Gazette:--

"SCIE