“Of course you had luck,” said the chief. “Sit down, won’t you, and have a cigar—if you can stand my brand. Of course you had luck, Anderson, but that isn’t the point. It takes a man with brains to use a piece of luck as you used it. I’ve waited a long time here for a man with your sort of brains and, by Judas, for a while I thought they were all as dead as Pinkerton. But now I know there’s one of them alive at any rate—and it’s a hell of a relief.” “Thank you, sir,” said the tall man, smiling and sitting down. He took a cigar and lit it. “That makes it easier, sir—your telling me that. Because—I’ve come to ask a favor.” “All right,” responded the chief promptly. “Whatever it is, it’s granted.” Anderson smiled again. “You’d better hear what it is first, sir. I don’t want to put anything over on you.” “Try it!” said the chief. “What is it—vacation? Take as long as you like—within reason—you’ve earned it—I’ll put it through today.” Anderson shook his head, “No sir—I don’t want a vacation.” “Well,” said the chief impatiently. “Promotion? I’ve told you about that. Expense money for anything—fill out a voucher and I’ll O.K. it—be best man at your wedding—by Judas, I’ll even do that!” Anderson laughed. “No, sir—I’m not getting married and—I’m pleased about the promotion, of course—but it’s not that. I want to be assigned to a certain case—that’s all.” The chief’s look grew searching. “H’m,” he said. “Well, as I say, anything within reason. What case do you want to be assigned to?” The muscles of Anderson’s left hand tensed on the arm of his chair. He looked squarely at the chief. “I want a chance at the Bat!” he replied slowly. The chief’s face became expressionless. “I said—anything within reason,” he responded softly, regarding Anderson keenly. “I want a chance at the Bat!” repeated Anderson stubbornly. “If I’ve done good work so far—I want a chance at the Bat!” The chief drummed on the desk. Annoyance and surprise were in his voice when he spoke. “But look here, Anderson,” he burst out finally. “Anything else and I’ll—but what’s the use? I said a minute ago, you had brains—but now, by Judas, I doubt it! If anyone else wanted a chance at the Bat, I’d give it to them and gladly—I’m hard-boiled. But you’re too valuable a man to be thrown away!” “I’m no more valuable than Wentworth would have been.” “Maybe not—and look what happened to him! A bullet hole in his heart—and thirty years of work that he might have done thrown away! No, Anderson, I’ve found two first-class men since I’ve been at this desk—Wentworth and you. He asked for his chance; I gave it to him—turned him over to the Government—and lost him. Good detectives aren’t so plentiful that I can afford to lose you both.” “Wentworth was a friend of mine,” said Anderson softly. His knuckles were white dints in the hand that gripped the chair. “Ever since the Bat got him I’ve wanted my chance. Now my other work’s cleaned up—and I still want it.”