“For what, purpose?”
“I am going to pull his nose!”
“He will probably prosecute you!”
“I think not. But I am entirely at his service. And what about Bruce McIvor?”
“McIvor is a man of great promise. He has been unfortunate. He would make an ideal leader-writer. But he lacks the necessary influence to secure such a post.”
O’Hagan frowned thoughtfully.
“He lacks incentive, Raymond,” he said. “A man who can trace his ancestry to Robert Bruce requires no influence other than that of blood. Blood, my boy! that is the secret of success! When he is engaged to the girl he loves—the girl I have chosen for him—he will go far. Mark my words, Raymond; he will go far.”
“I was unaware that he was a friend of yours.”
“I have never spoken to him! But it is unnecessary. A leader-writer, you say? On behalf of an old-established and soundly Conservative organ, of course? Such vacancies, I take it, are rare?”
“Very rare. The leader-writer of the Universe is about to become editor. That will create a vacancy. But poor McIvor is not in the running.”