“Why, I’m not sure,” said the master graciously, “whether your way might not do in a case like that. It’s crude, of course, but with a few changes it would do.”

“Gee, boss! Is dat right?” queried the astonished disciple.

“It would do,” said the master, frowning thoughtfully. “It would do quite well—quite well.”

Spike drew a deep breath of joy and astonishment. That his methods should meet with approval from such a mind!

“Gee!” he whispered. As who should say, “I am Napoleon.”

★ 6 ★ An Exhibition Performance

★ 6 ★

Cold reason may disapprove of wagers, but without a doubt there is something joyous and lovable in the type of mind which rushes at the least provocation into the making of them, something smacking of the spacious days of the Regency. Nowadays the spirit seems to have deserted England. When Mr. Lloyd George became Premier of Great Britain no earnest forms were to be observed rolling pea-nuts along the Strand with a toothpick. When Mr. George is dethroned it is improbable that any Briton will allow his beard to remain unshaved until his pet party returns to office. It is in the United States that the wager has found a home. It is characteristic of some minds to dash into a wager with the fearlessness of a soldier in a forlorn hope, and, once in, to regard it almost as a sacred trust. Some men never grow up out of the schoolboy spirit of “daring”.

To this class Jimmy Pitt belonged. He was of the same type as the man in the comic opera who proposed to the lady because somebody bet him he wouldn’t. There had never been a time when a challenge, a “dare”, had not acted as a spur to him. In his newspaper days life had been one long series of challenges. They had been the essence of the business. A story had not been worth getting unless the getting were difficult.

With the conclusion of his newspaper life came a certain flatness into the scheme of things. There were times, many times, when Jimmy was bored. He hungered for excitement, and life appeared to have so little to offer. The path of the rich man was so smooth, and it seemed to lead nowhere. This task of burgling a house was like an unexpected treat to a child. With an intensity of purpose which should have touched his sense of humour, but which, as a matter of fact, did not appeal to him as ludicrous in any way, he addressed himself to the work. The truth was that Jimmy was one of those 

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