In London he attracted the attention of a callow Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies, and this Under-Secretary was a nephew of the Prime Minister, cousin of the Minister of War, and son-in-law of the Lord Chancellor, so he had a pull which most Under-Secretaries do not ordinarily possess.
"Mr. Tobolaka," said the Under-Secretary, "what are your plans?"
Mr. Tobolaka was a little restrained.
"I feel, Mr. Cardow," he said, "that my duties lie in my land—no, I do not mean that I have any call to missionary work, but rather to administration. I am, as you know of the Isisi people—we are a pure Bantu stock, as far as legend supports that contention—and I have often thought, remembering that the Isisi are the dominant race, that there are exceptional opportunities for an agglomeration of interests; in fact——"
"A splendid idea—a great idea!" said the enthusiastic Under-Secretary.
Now it happened that this young Mr. Cardow had sought for years for some scheme which he might further to his advantage. He greatly desired, after the fashion of all budding Parliamentarians, to be associated with a movement which would bring kudos and advertisement in its train, and which would earn for him the approval or the condemnation of the Press, according to the shade of particular opinion which the particular newspapers represented.
So in the silence of his room in Whitehall Court, he evolved a grand plan which he submitted to his chief. That great man promised to read it on a given day, and was dismayed when he found himself confronted with forty folios of typewritten matter at the very moment when he was hurrying to catch the 10.35 to the Cotswold Golf Links.
"I will read it in the train," he said.
He crammed the manuscript into his bag and forgot all about it; on his return to town he discovered that by some mischance he had left the great scheme behind.
Nevertheless, being a politician and resourceful, he wrote to his subordinate.