'Then, how do you explain it?'
'A year ago I could not have told you. Now I can. For five years I have been unravelling the mystery by the aid of that one clue. Listen. When Mr Hughes had finished part one, he threw down his pen and started to Wales for a holiday. He had been there a week or more, when one day, as he was reclining on the peak of a mountain looking down a deep precipice, he was aware of a body of men approaching him. They were dressed soberly in garments of an inky black. Each had side whiskers, and each wore spectacles. "Mr Hughes, I believe?" said the leader, as they came up to him.
'"Your servant, sir," said he.
'"We have come to speak to you on an important matter, Mr Hughes. We are the committee of the Secret Society For Putting Wholesome Literature Within The Reach Of Every Boy, And Seeing That He Gets It. I, sir, am the president of the S.S.F.P.W.L.W.T.R.O.E.B.A.S.T.H.G.I." He bowed.
'"Really, sir, I—er—don't think I have the pleasure," began Mr Hughes.
'"You shall have the pleasure, sir. We have come to speak to you about your book. Our representative has read Part I, and reports unfavourably upon it. It contains no moral. There are scenes of violence, and your hero is far from perfect."
'"I think you mistake my object," said Mr Hughes; "Tom is a boy, not a patent medicine. In other words, he is not supposed to be perfect."
'"Well, I am not here to bandy words. The second part of your book must be written to suit the rules of our Society. Do you agree, or shall we throw you over that precipice?"
'"Never. I mean, I don't agree."
'"Then we must write it for you. Remember, sir, that you will be constantly watched, and if you attempt to write that second part yourself—"' (he paused dramatically). 'So the second part was written by the committee of the Society. So now you know.'