Mr Pusely-Smythe smiled grimly and sardonically. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said, ‘for your kind words. I do not want to brag, but I gave this problem my very earnest consideration, and I do think that I realised some at least of the difficulties before me. I saw, firstly, that it was possible and even probable that the conductor might not have nine threepenny-bits to give me. Now some company-promoters have found out that the best way to get gold out of a gold-mine is to start by putting a little gold into it. I adopted that principle. I selected a certain bus on a certain route. I arranged that on the journey just before I made my appearance no fewer than twelve passengers would pay their fares with threepenny-bits. It only required a little organisation. If you tell a human boy or even a human girl to take your threepenny bit, pay a penny bus fare with it, and keep the change, you get willing service without any troublesome demand for explanations. Secondly, I had to have a story to tell the conductor that would induce him to oblige me. I was prepared to tell him that a friend had promised me that if I could collect a thousand threepenny-bits for the London Hospital, he would add double that amount to it. ‘I notice, sir, an unworthy expression of suspicion on the face of my learned friend Mr Quillian. My story for the conductor was not only plausible—it was actually true. I was the man who had made that promise to myself. (If I am not my own friend, who is?) Further, I was so absolutely certain of success that I remitted the sum in question, thirty-two pounds ten shillings, to the hospital and have a receipt for it. When I deducted the thirty-two pounds ten shillings expenditure from the hundred and ten pounds prize, I calculated that it would still leave a living wage for myself. Well, that was the position. I saw that there were two main difficulties in this problem, and I had arranged to meet both of them.’ ‘Quite so,’ said the chairman. ‘As I’ve always said, these things need to be worked out in a clear-minded and systematic way. And the result was all right?’ Pusely-Smythe’s smile was more sardonic than ever. ‘Much depends on the point of view; it was all right from some points of view. Punctually at the time I had fixed I took my seat on the top of the bus I had selected. About a minute later the conductor came up to collect the fares. I felt for my half-crown. I had not got any half-crown. I had no money on me whatever. I had inadvertently left my money at home. There was nobody on the bus to whom I could apply for temporary assistance. Well, there was no help for it. The conductor was weary, but firm. He told me to hop off the bus and not to try it on again. I hopped. It may have been all right from the point of view of the other competitors, but from my own point of view it was less satisfactory. And it only shows, as we all know, that you may lose your game by missing a perfectly easy shot.’