spies and that sort of thing, the Biggleswick lads are too callow.'

'Yes,' said Blenkiron reflectively. 'They haven't got as much
sense as God gave to geese. You're sure you didn't hit against any
heavier metal?'

'Yes. There's a man called Launcelot Wake, who came down to
speak once. I had met him before. He has the makings of a fanatic,
and he's the more dangerous because you can see his conscience is
uneasy. I can fancy him bombing a Prime Minister merely to quiet
his own doubts.'

'So,' he said. 'Nobody else?'

I reflected. 'There's Mr Ivery, but you know him better than I. I
shouldn't put much on him, but I'm not precisely certain, for I
never had a chance of getting to know him.'

'Ivery,' said Blenkiron in surprise. 'He has a hobby for half-
baked youth, just as another rich man might fancy orchids or fast
trotters. You sure can place him right enough.'

'I dare say. Only I don't know enough to be positive.'

He sucked at his cigar for a minute or so. 'I guess, Dick, if I told
you all I've been doing since I reached these shores you would call
me a ro-mancer. I've been way down among the toilers. I did a
spell as unskilled dilooted labour in the Barrow shipyards. I was
barman in a ho-tel on the Portsmouth Road, and I put in a black
month driving a taxicab in the city of London. For a while I was