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"
I
beg
your
pardon
,
"
said
the
reporter
,
with
genuine
compunction
.
"
I
had
no
intention
.
.
.
"
He
touched
his
hat
–
the
aluminum
stove
-
pipe
hat
in
which
he
carried
his
wireless
receiver
and
transmitter
.
"
Excuse
my
not
taking
it
off
,
"
he
said
.
"
It
’
s
a
bit
heavy
.
Well
,
as
I
was
saying
,
I
am
the
representative
of
The
Hourly
.
.
.
"
"
What
do
you
want
?
"
asked
the
Savage
,
scowling
.
The
reporter
returned
his
most
ingratiating
smile
.
"
Well
,
of
course
,
our
readers
would
be
profoundly
interested
.
.
.
"
He
put
his
head
on
one
side
,
his
smile
became
almost
coquettish
.
"
Just
a
few
words
from
you
,
Mr
.
Savage
.
"
And
rapidly
,
with
a
series
of
ritual
gestures
,
he
uncoiled
two
wires
connected
to
the
portable
battery
buckled
round
his
waist
;
plugged
them
simultaneously
into
the
sides
of
his
aluminum
hat
;
touched
a
spring
on
the
crown
–
and
antennæ
shot
up
into
the
air
;
touched
another
spring
on
the
peak
of
the
brim
–
and
,
like
a
jack
-
in
-
the
-
box
,
out
jumped
a
microphone
and
hung
there
,
quivering
,
six
inches
in
front
of
his
nose
;
pulled
down
a
pair
of
receivers
over
his
ears
;
pressed
a
switch
on
the
left
side
of
the
hat
-
and
from
within
came
a
faint
waspy
buzzing
;
turned
a
knob
on
the
right
–
and
the
buzzing
was
interrupted
by
a
stethoscopic
wheeze
and
cackle
,
by
hiccoughs
and
sudden
squeaks
.
"
Hullo
,
"
he
said
to
the
microphone
,
"
hullo
,
hullo
.
.
.
"
A
bell
suddenly
rang
inside
his
hat
.
"
Is
that
you
,
Edzel
?
Primo
Mellon
speaking
.
Yes
,
I
’
ve
got
hold
of
him
.
Mr
.
Savage
will
now
take
the
microphone
and
say
a
few
words
.
Won
’
t
you
,
Mr
.
Savage
?
"
He
looked
up
at
the
Savage
with
another
of
those
winning
smiles
of
his
.
"
Just
tell
our
readers
why
you
came
here
.
What
made
you
leave
London
(
hold
on
,
Edzel
!
)
so
very
suddenly
.
And
,
of
course
,
that
whip
.
"
(
The
Savage
started
.
How
did
they
know
about
the
whip
?
)
"
We
’
re
all
crazy
to
know
about
the
whip
.
And
then
something
about
Civilization
.
You
know
the
sort
of
stuff
.
’
What
I
think
of
the
Civilized
Girl
.
’
Just
a
few
words
,
a
very
few
.
.
.
"
The
Savage
obeyed
with
a
disconcerting
literalness
.
Five
words
he
uttered
and
no
more
-
five
words
,
the
same
as
those
he
had
said
to
Bernard
about
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
of
Canterbury
.
"
Háni
!
Sons
éso
tse
-
ná
!
"
And
seizing
the
reporter
by
the
shoulder
,
he
spun
him
round
(
the
young
man
revealed
himself
invitingly
well
-
covered
)
,
aimed
and
,
with
all
the
force
and
accuracy
of
a
champion
foot
-
and
-
mouth
-
baller
,
delivered
a
most
prodigious
kick
.
Eight
minutes
later
,
a
new
edition
of
The
Hourly
Radio
was
on
sale
in
the
streets
of
London
.
"
HOURLY
RADIO
REPORTER
HAS
COCCYX
KICKED
BY
MYSTERY
SAVAGE
,
"
ran
the
headlines
on
the
front
page
.
"
SENSATION
IN
SURREY
.
"
"
Sensation
even
in
London
,
"
thought
the
reporter
when
,
on
his
return
,
he
read
the
words
.
And
a
very
painful
sensation
,
what
was
more
.
He
sat
down
gingerly
to
his
luncheon
.
Undeterred
by
that
cautionary
bruise
on
their
colleague
’
s
coccyx
,
four
other
reporters
,
representing
the
New
York
Times
,
the
Frankfurt
Four
-
Dimensional
Continuum
,
The
Fordian
Science
Monitor
,
and
The
Delta
Mirror
,
called
that
afternoon
at
the
lighthouse
and
met
with
receptions
of
progressively
increasing
violence
.
From
a
safe
distance
and
still
rubbing
his
buttocks
,
"
Benighted
fool
!
"
shouted
the
man
from
The
Fordian
Science
Monitor
,
"
why
don
’
t
you
take
soma
?
"
