"Oh, he is temporising. He has written to say that he will place his discoveries at their disposal when he has satisfied himself of their authenticity, et-cetera. Of course that's all '_gyver_.' The mummy is genuine enough, so are the papyri. But he naturally wants to have first 'go' at them, and he is fighting for time. Meanwhile, I am organising the progressives. We can never hope to get this show properly on the move till we shake things up and reform on sound commercial lines. I tell you, sir, before I've done with it, I'll make this Society a power in the land. I'm going to take it up in both hands and chuck it right in the eyes of the B. P., that means the British Public. And you take it from me, it's going to stay there. Good-day to you. I'm glad to have met you. You are a bit antiquated in your notions; but you're a young man yet, and you'll find you'll have to join my crowd. S'long!" He shook my hand very energetically and bustled off. I sank into a chair and began to fan myself. A moment later the president, Lord Ballantine, entered the room. The poor old gentleman was purple in the face, spluttering: "Has-has-has that man Coen been can-can-canvassing you?" he thundered. I nodded. "I-I-I'll resign--by God!" cried Lord Ballantine. "It-it-it's too much. I-I-I," he stopped----gasping for a word, the picture of impotent rage and misery. But I felt no sympathy for him. "Why did you let him in?" I asked. "We-we-we were short of funds." "And now?" "He's bought us, or thinks he has, body and soul." "Who nominated him?" "Ottley." I was not surprised to hear it. "He--he's Ottley's broker. Ottley and he are running the market-change--together. Have you heard. They have cornered South Africans. They made half a million between them yesterday. All London is talking about it. And they want to turn us into a beer garden." "You'll have to turn them out." "How can we? We owe them, Lord knows how much." "Then if you cannot," I said calmly, rising as I spoke, "you'll have to grin and bear the infliction you have brought upon yourselves. After all, it's a question of voting." "You'll stand by us, Pinsent?" he implored. "My resignation is at any time at your disposal, Ballantine. All the same, I don't pity you a scrap. You are getting little more than you deserve. I have been working for three years for the Society without remuneration, and I am a poor man. Many of your older members are as rich as Croesus, and yet you must needs import a vulgar semitic broker to help you out of a hole. Good-afternoon."