We arrived at the Club, and sat in a corner of the lower smoking-room.

"Macrae says that you are going in for writing. Of course, I'll do
anything I can, but it isn't easy to help a man. As it happens, though,
I can put you in the way of something, if it's your style of work. Do
you ever do verse?"

I felt like a batsman who sees a slow full-toss sailing through the
air.

"It's the only thing I can get taken," I said. "I've had quite a lot in
the _Chronicle_ and occasional bits in other papers."

He seemed relieved.

"Oh, that's all right, then," he said. "You know 'On Your Way.' Perhaps
you'd care to come in and do that for a bit? It's only holiday work,
but it'll last five weeks. And if you do it all right I can get you the
whole of the holiday work on the column. That comes to a good lot in
the year. We're always taking odd days off. Can you come up at a
moment's notice?"

"Easily," I said.

"Then, you see, if you did that you would drop into the next vacancy on
the column. There's no saying when one may occur. It's like the General
Election. It may happen tomorrow, or not for years. Still, you'd be on
the spot in case."