Largs Academy; Edinburgh University.  British Museum Assistant, 1892. 
Assistant-Keeper of Comparative Anthropology Department, 1893. 
Resigned after acrimonious correspondence same year.  Winner of
Crayston Medal for Zoological Research.  Foreign Member of'--well,
quite a lot of things, about two inches of small type--`Societe
Belge, American Academy of Sciences, La Plata, etc., etc. 
Ex-President Palaeontological Society.  Section H, British
Association'--so on, so on!--`Publications: "Some Observations
Upon a Series of Kalmuck Skulls"; "Outlines of Vertebrate
Evolution"; and numerous papers, including "The underlying
fallacy of Weissmannism," which caused heated discussion at
the Zoological Congress of Vienna.  Recreations: Walking,
Alpine climbing.  Address: Enmore Park, Kensington, W.'

"There, take it with you.  I've nothing more for you to-night."

I pocketed the slip of paper.

"One moment, sir," I said, as I realized that it was a pink bald
head, and not a red face, which was fronting me.  "I am not very
clear yet why I am to interview this gentleman.  What has he done?"

The face flashed back again.

"Went to South America on a solitary expedeetion two years ago. 
Came back last year.  Had undoubtedly been to South America, but
refused to say exactly where.  Began to tell his adventures in a
vague way, but somebody started to pick holes, and he just shut
up like an oyster.  Something wonderful happened--or the man's a
champion liar, which is the more probable supposeetion.  Had some
damaged photographs, said to be fakes.  Got so touchy that he
assaults anyone who asks questions, and heaves reporters doun
the stairs.  In my opinion he's just a homicidal megalomaniac with
a turn for science.  That's your man, Mr. Malone.  Now, off you
run, and see what you can make of him.  You're big enough to look
after yourself.  Anyway, you are all safe.  Employers' Liability
Act, you know."

A grinning red face turned once more into a pink oval, fringed
with gingery fluff; the interview was at an end.

I walked across to the Savage Club, but instead of turning into
it I leaned upon the railings of Adelphi Terrace and gazed
thoughtfully for a long time at the brown, oily river.  I can
always think most sanely and clearly in the open air.  I took out
the list of Professor Challenger's exploits, and I read it over
under the electric lamp.  Then I had what I can only regard as
an inspiration.  As a Pressman, I felt sure from what I had been
told that I could never hope to get into touch with this
cantankerous Professor.  But these recriminations, twice
mentioned in his skeleton biography, could only mean that he was
a fanatic in science.  Was there not an exposed margin there upon
which he might be accessible?  I would try.

I entered the club.  It was just after eleven, and the big room
was fairly full, though the rush had not yet set in.  I noticed
a tall, thin, angular man seated in an arm-chair by the fire. 
He turned as I drew my chair up to him.  It was the man of all
others whom I should have chosen--Tarp Henry, of the staff of
Nature, a thin, dry, leathery creature, who was full, to those who
knew him, of kindly humanity.  I plunged instantly into my subject.

"What do you know of Professor Challenger?"

"Challenger?" He gathered his brows in scientific disapproval. 
"Challenger was the man who came with some cock-and-bull story
from South America."

"What story?"

"Oh, it was rank nonsense about some queer animals he had discovered. 
I believe he has retracted since.  Anyhow, he has suppressed it all. 
He gave an interview to Reuter's, and there was such a howl that he
saw it wouldn't do.  It was a discreditable business.  There were
one or two folk who were inclined to take him seriously, but he soon
choked them off."

"How?"

"Well, by his insufferable rudeness and impossible behavior. 
There was poor old Wadley, of the Zoological Institute.  Wadley sent
a message:  `The President of the Zoological Institute presents
his compliments to Professor Challenger, and would take it as a
personal favor if he would do them the honor to come to their
next meeting.'  The answer was unprintable."

"You don't say?"

"Well, a bowdlerized version of it would run:  `Professor
Challenger presents his compliments to the President of the
Zoological Institute, and would take it as a personal favor if he
would go to the devil.'"

"Good Lord!"

"Yes, I expect that's what old Wadley said.  I remember his wail
at the meeting, which began:  `In fifty years experience of
scientific intercourse----'  It quite broke the old man up."

"Anything more about Challenger?"