Related to: 'Kathleen Eisenhardt'

Nicholas Brealey Publishing US

The Expertise Economy

Kelly Palmer, David Blake
Authors:
Kelly Palmer, David Blake
Nicholas Brealey International

Optimizing the Power of Action Learning

Michael J. Marquardt, Shannon Banks, Peter Cauweiler, Choon Seng Ng
Authors:
Michael J. Marquardt, Shannon Banks, Peter Cauweiler, Choon Seng Ng

The Third Edition of the field-defining book Originated by Reginald Evans in the 1940s, the Action Learning Model was refined and then reintroduced by lead author Michael Marquardt to organizations globally as a powerful tool for improving organizational performance. Today, Marquardt is widely considered to be the modern "father" of the Action Learning approach. For this new edition, Marquardt has teamed up with three Action Learning experts from Asia and the UK who bring a broader global approach to what has become THE seminal book in the field. Each chapter has been updated for alignment with today's practice and implementation of Action Learning in organizations, including fresh information on virtual Action Learning, guidance on implementing Action Learning and becoming a Certified Action Learning Coach, and many new case studies.

John Murray

Deep Thinking

Garry Kasparov
Authors:
Garry Kasparov
Nicholas Brealey Publishing US

SuperHubs

Sandra Navidi
Authors:
Sandra Navidi
John Murray Learning

The Success Code

John Lees
Authors:
John Lees
Teach Yourself

MBA In A Week

Alan Finn
Authors:
Alan Finn

MBA In A Week is a simple and straightforward way to get the edge in business, giving you everything you really need to know in just seven short chapters. Every day it focuses on one area of MBA study, from global business, finance and accounting, to strategy, marketing and operations management.This book distils the most practical business insights of an MBA into easy-to-digest bite-sized chunks, giving you a basic knowledge and understanding of the key concepts, together with practical and thought-provoking exercises. Whether you choose to read it in a week or in a single sitting, MBA In A Week is your fastest route to success:- Sunday: Global business pressures and change- Monday: Finance, economics and accounting- Tuesday: Entrepreneurship, ethics and social responsibility- Wednesday: Strategy and marketing- Thursday: Operations management - Friday: Organizational behaviour and human resources management- Saturday: Research and change managementABOUT THE SERIESIn A Week books are for managers, leaders, and business executives who want to succeed at work. From negotiating and content marketing to finance and social media, the In A Week series covers the business topics that really matter and that will help you make a difference today. Written in straightforward English, each book is structured as a seven-day course so that with just a little work each day, you will quickly master the subject. In a fast-changing world, this series enables readers not just to get up to speed, but to get ahead.

John Murray

Simple Rules

Kathleen Eisenhardt, Donald Sull
Authors:
Kathleen Eisenhardt, Donald Sull

Life gets more complicated every day. Whether you're struggling with information overload, attempting to act effectively with limited resources or trying to change bad habits - all you need is Simple Rules. Donald Sull and Kathleen Eisenhardt have spent the last decade working with businesses around the world, and have developed a set of highly effective, tried-and-tested rules to help tackle complex problems, whatever they are. In Simple Rules they share them with you.So, how do we make the best decisions when deluged with data? How do we solve problems across global networks? And how do we pinpoint what exactly it is that is holding us back from success? Sull and Eisenhardt have distilled two careers-worth of research, experience and work into a much needed guide to achieving our most pressing personal and professional objectives, from overcoming insomnia to becoming a better manager or a smarter investor. Full of tips, illuminating case studies and clear advice, Simple Rules provides the tools you need.

John Murray Learning

How to Perform Under Pressure

Hendrie Weisinger, J. P. Pawliw-Fry
Authors:
Hendrie Weisinger, J. P. Pawliw-Fry
John Murray

The New Digital Age

Eric Schmidt, Jared Cohen
Authors:
Eric Schmidt, Jared Cohen

'This is the most important - and fascinating - book yet written about how the digital age will affect our world' Walter Isaacson, author of Steve JobsFrom two leading thinkers, the widely anticipated book that describes a new, hugely connected world of the future, full of challenges and benefits which are ours to meet and harness. The New Digital Age is the product of an unparalleled collaboration: full of the brilliant insights of one of Silicon Valley's great innovators - what Bill Gates was to Microsoft and Steve Jobs was to Apple, Schmidt (along with Larry Page and Sergey Brin) was to Google - and the Director of Google Ideas, Jared Cohen, formerly an advisor to both Secretaries of State Condoleezza Rice and Hillary Clinton. Never before has the future been so vividly and transparently imagined. From technologies that will change lives (information systems that greatly increase productivity, safety and our quality of life, thought-controlled motion technology that can revolutionise medical procedures, and near-perfect translation technology that allows us to have more diversified interactions) to our most important future considerations (curating our online identity and fighting those who would do harm with it) to the widespread political change that will transform the globe (through transformations in conflict, increasingly active and global citizenries, a new wave of cyber-terrorism and states operating simultaneously in the physical and virtual realms) to the ever present threats to our privacy and security, Schmidt and Cohen outline in great detail and scope all the promise and peril awaiting us in the coming decades. A breakthrough book - pragmatic, inspirational and totally fascinating. Whether a government, a business or an individual, we must understand technology if we want to understand the future.'A brilliant guidebook for the next century . . . Schmidt and Cohen offer a dazzling glimpse into how the new digital revolution is changing our lives' Richard Branson

Teach Yourself

Change Management In A Week

Mike Bourne
Authors:
Mike Bourne

Change management just got easierIf an organization does not change in response to the environment in which it is operating, it will ultimately fail. Just as people have to change and adapt according to their circumstances, so do organizations. No one can deny that managing change is a difficult and sometimes painful task. It is complex and can be emotionally draining, involving a range of skills from project planning through to influencing those likely to be affected and ensuring that the appropriate actions happen. Difficult though it is, the ability to manage change is one of the critical skills needed by a manager. Anyone who wants to progress up the career ladder must be adept at instigating and managing change. This book concentrates on implementing change and ensuring that it happens. It is designed to help managers overseeing the whole change and those who are managing part of the process and trying to keep it on track. It will also interest people caught up in the change process, helping them to understand why certain things are happening to them. Over this week-long course you will cover:- Sunday: Why change is necessary- Monday: Unfreezing: creating the impetus for change- Tuesday: Moving: The change roller-coaster- Wednesday: Refreezing: making the change stick- Thursday: Tools for analysing resistance to change - Friday: Examples of change projects- Saturday: Making change happen

Teach Yourself

Interview Success - Get the Edge: Teach Yourself

Julie Gray
Authors:
Julie Gray
Coronet

The Lost Key

Robert Lomas
Authors:
Robert Lomas

Robert Lomas is the bestselling co-author of The Hiram Key and other international bestsellers on Freemasonic mysteries. Many say he is the model for Dan Brown's hero, Robert Langdon.The Lost Key contains revelations that only an initiate of the highest orders of esoteric Freemasonry is in a position to make. Here is the truth behind the hints in Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol that Freemasonry is concerned to reawaken the hidden potentialities and powers of the human mind.The thrilling narrative of this new book follows a candidate for initiation as he rises through the different grades of initiation, taking part in ceremonies that are sometimes terrifying but always revealing of new knowledge and presenting new mysteries which will only be solved when the next stage of initiation has been achieved. Dramatic episodes include the re-enacting of an ancient murder from 3,000 years ago in full gory detail, lowering the candidate on the end of a rope into a dark vault under the floor of the temple, holding a dagger to the candidates naked breast, and making the candidate attend his own funeral.In the secret teachings revealed to some high-level initiates, there is a type of instruction which seems curiously similar to religious and mystical teachings. Astrology, angels, chakras and the powers of the mind to operate independently of the body, such as in remote viewing, are all a part of Freemasonic lore.Robert Lomas is both a physicist - he teaches physics at Bradford Unversity - and a Freemason. Here he reveals to a wider public and also explains these secret teachings for the first time. He shows that while they are dismissed as superstitious by campaigners for atheism such as Richard Dawkins, they are very much part of the strange, paradoxical world opened up by the latest thinking in quantum physics. This is why he prefers to call them 'Supranatural'.

Nicholas Brealey International

The Solutions Focus

Mark McKergow, Paul Z. Jackson
Authors:
Mark McKergow, Paul Z. Jackson

This is a new and updated edition of this acclaimed first business book on the powerful, simple yet subtle approach to positive change in people, teams and organisations. Used around the world by a wide range of people, professions and organisations, the first edition has now sold nearly 10,000 copies and been translated into 7 languages. Including new chapters reflecting the increasing importance of coaching and the solutions focus movement in the business environment, this wide-ranging book is filled with all the most important ideas, case examples and practical tips for managers, facilitators and consultants. Proven in many fields and with a distinguished intellectual heritage, "The Solutions Focus" provides a simple and direct route to progress in your organisation. It focuses on: solutions - not problems; in between: the action is in the interaction; make use of what's there; possibilities - past, present and future; and language. Every case is different. The trouble with traditional approaches to people problems is that they assume a straightforward relationship between cause and effect, between a problem and its solution. A solutions-focused approach sidesteps the search for the causes of a problem and heads straight for the solution, showing you how to envisage your preferred future and quickly takes steps forward. The authors present a set of practical techniques, including specific forms of questioning that lead to immediate action and results. They show how to identify what is working in your organisation and amplify it to make useful changes; to focus on what is possible rather than what is intractable and how to be solution focused, not solution forced.

Kathy Eisenhardt

Kathleen M. Eisenhardt is Professor of Strategy and Organization at Stanford University. She received a B.S. in mechanical engineering from Brown University, holds an M.S. in computer science and received a Ph.D. from Stanford's Graduate School of Business. She also has several honorary degrees including from London Business School. She is the co-author (with Shona L. Brown) of Competing on the Edge: Strategy as Structured Chaos.

Chapter I

THE ROUNDABOUT MAN, by Clare Morrall

Read the first chapter of Clare Morrall's THE ROUNDABOUT MAN.

Ross Fraser

Mark Vernon is one of the UK's leading popular philosophers. He has written a number of successful books, including most recently 'How to Be an Agnostic'. His writing appears regularly in the Guardian and the Evening Standard, and he is a well-known figure on the literary festival circuit as both an interviewer and an guest. He has PhD's in both theology and philosophy (from Oxford and Durham). He is a founder of the School of Life, based in London. Paul L. Younger is one of the world's leading hydrologists, with 25 years of experience in the water industry worldwide. He is currently Rankine Professor of Engineering at the University of Glasgow, and also chairs the Global Scientific Committee of the Planet Earth Institute. Professor Younger has lent his expertise to projects around the globe, and frequently advises UN agencies on issues of water sustainability. David Ashford is Managing Director of Bristol Spaceplanes Ltd, an innovative small company developing the Ascender spaceplane. He studied Aeronautical engineering at Imperial College, London, and did postgraduate research at Princeton, before being involved in major projects including Concorde, the Skylark sounding rocket, and missile and electronic warfare projects at Douglas Aircraft and BAE Systems. Jonathan Clements is well known for his biographies of figures from Chinese history, including Chairman Mao, Confucius, Empress Wu, Khubilai Khan and Marco Polo, as well as a highly regarded history of Beijing. His biography of the First Emperor was itself published in Chinese. His most recent book is a new translation of Sun Tzu's Art of War. Michael Scott is Professor of English and Theatre Studies and Vice Chancellor and Chief Executive of Glyndwr University, Wrexham. He has taught Shakespeare for over 35 years and has also tutored A Level students, and for over ten years he worked as a Visiting Lecturer teaching Shakespeare with the Royal Shakespeare Company. He has extensive experience also of teaching Shakespeare worldwide, including as Visiting Professor in English at Georgetown University. In Spring 2013 he conducted an extensive lecture tour on Shakespeare in China. Peter Warren is an award-winning newspaper and TV journalist acknowledged as an expert on technology and computer and internet crime. He wrote the first articles highlighting the potential for the internet to be abused by paedophiles in 1989 and as a result was asked to brief the first UK police force to respond to the danger, the Greater Manchester Police Obscene Publications Squad, on the issues the technology has produced. He has also set up the Cyber Security Research Institute, an organisation pulling together the UK's top academic and business experts in the field of computer security with leading journalists in a bid to raise awareness of cyber crime. Michael Streeter is an author and former Fleet Street executive who worked for The Independent, the Daily Express, the Mirror and the Daily Mail. He was also editor of the Scottish Daily Express and launch editor of the Daily Express website. Michael's books include the co-authorship with Peter Warren of Cyber Alert: How the world is under attack from a new form of crime. Julian Baggini is a philosopher, author and journalist, who was recently named on the Observer's list of Britain's top public intellectuals. His doctorate was from University College London on the philosophy of personal identity, and his books have been published globally and translated into twelve languages. Camilla Ween is an architect, urban planner and Harvard University Loeb Fellow. She worked for Transport for London for 11 years, where she was responsible for advising the Mayor of London on the implications for transport of land use policy and development, and developing planning policy for many of London's key growth areas.

First Chapter

THE SUMMER WITHOUT MEN, By Siri Hustvedt

Read the first chapter of Siri Hustvedt's THE SUMMER WITHOUT MEN.

Chapter One

THE MAN WHO DISAPPEARED, by Clare Morrall

Read the first chapter of Sceptre author Clare Morrall's THE MAN WHO DISAPPEARED.

Chapter One: Suicide Corner

SCARP by Nick Papadimitriou

Read the first chapter of Nick Papadimitriou's SCARP.

A short story by the author of The Saint series, Leslie Charteris

The Uncritical Publisher

Even the strongest men have their weak moments. Peter Quentin once wrote a book. Many young men do, but usually with more disastrous results. Moreover he did it without saying a word to anyone, which is perhaps even more uncommon; and even the Saint did not hear about it until after the crime had been committed. ‘Next time you’re thinking of being rude to me,’ said Peter Quentin, on that night of revelation, ‘please remember that you’re talking to a budding novelist whose work has been compared to Dumas, Tolstoy, Conan Doyle and others.’ Simon Templar choked over his highball. ‘Only pansies bud,’ he said severely. ‘Novelists fester. Of course, it’s possible to be both.’ ‘I mean it,’ insisted Peter seriously. ‘I was keeping it quiet until I heard the verdict, and I had a letter from the publishers today.’ There was no mistaking his earnestness; and the Saint regarded him with affectionate gloom. His vision of the future filled him with overwhelming pessimism. He had seen the fate of other young men – healthy, upright young men who had had a book published. He had seen them tread the downhill path of pink shirts, velvet coats, long hair, quill pens, cocktail parties and beards, until finally they sank into the awful limbos of Bloomsbury and were no longer visible to the naked eye. The prospect of such a doom for anyone like Peter Quentin, who had been with him in so many bigger and better crimes, cast a shadow of great melancholy across his spirits. ‘Didn’t Kathleen try to stop you?’ he asked. ‘Of course not,’ said Peter proudly. ‘She helped me. I owe—’ ‘—it all to her,’ said the Saint cynically. ‘All right. I know the line. But if you ever come out with “My Work” within my hearing, I shall throw you under a bus... You’d better let me see this letter. And order me some more Old Curio while I’m reading it – I need strength.’ He took the document with his fingertips, as if it were unclean, and opened it out on the bar. But after his first glance at the letter-head his twinkling blue eyes steadied abruptly, and he read the epistle through with more than ordinary interest. Dear Sir, We have now gone into your novel THE GAY ADVENTURER, and our readers report that it is very entertaining and ably written, with the verve of Dumas, the dramatic power of Tolstoy, and ingenuity of Conan Doyle. We shall therefore be delighted to set up same in best small pica type to form a volume of about 320 p.p., machine on good antique paper, bind in red cloth with title in gold lettering, and put up in specially designed artistic wrapper, at cost to yourself of only £600 (Six Hundred Pounds) and to publish same at our own expense in the United Kingdom at a net price of 15/ (Fifteen Shillings); and believe it will form a most acceptable and popular volume which should command a wide sale. We will further agree to send you on date of publication twelve presentation copies and to send copies for review to all principal magazines and newspapers; and further to pay you a royalty of 25% (twenty-five per cent) on all copies sold of this Work. The work can be put in hand immediately on receipt of your acceptance of these terms. Trusting to hear from you at your earliest convenience, We beg to remain, dear Sir, Faithfully yours, for HERBERT G. PARSTONE & Co. Herbert G. Parstone, Managing Director Simon folded the letter and handed it back with a sigh of relief. ‘Okay, Peter,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I bought that one. What’s the swindle, and can I come in on it?’ ‘I don’t know of any swindle,’ said Peter puzzledly. ‘What do you mean?’ The Saint frowned. ‘D’you mean to tell me you sent your book to Parstone in all seriousness?’ ‘Of course I did. I saw an advertisement of his in some literary paper, and I don’t know much about publishers—’ ‘You’ve never heard of him before?’ ‘No.’ Simon picked up his glass and strengthened himself with a deep draught. ‘Herbert G. Parstone,’ he said, ‘is England’s premier exponent of the publishing racket. Since you don’t seem to know it, Peter, let me tell you that no reputable publisher in this or any other country publishes books at the author’s expense, except an occasional highly technical work which goes out for posterity rather than profit. I gather that your book is by no means technical. Therefore you don’t pay the publisher: he pays you – and if he’s any use he stands you expensive lunches as well.’ ‘But Parstone offers to pay—’ ‘A twenty-five per cent royalty. I know. Well, if you were something like a bestseller you might get that; but on a first novel no publisher would give you more than ten, and then he’d probably lose money. After six months Parstone would probably send you a statement showing a sale of two hundred copies, you’d get a cheque from him for thirty-seven pounds ten, and that’s the last trace you’d see of your six hundred quid. He’s simply trading on the fact that one out of every three people you meet thinks he could write a book if he tried, one out of every three of ’em try it, and one out of every three of those tries to get it published. ‘The very fact that a manuscript is sent to him tells him that the author is a potential sucker, because anyone who goes into the writing business seriously takes the trouble to find out a bit about publishers before he starts slinging his stuff around. The rest of his game is just playing on the vanity of mugs. And the mugs – mugs like yourself, Peter – old gents with political theories, hideous women with ghastly poems, schoolgirls with nauseating love stories – rush up to pour their money into his lap for the joy of seeing their repulsive tripe in print. I’ve known about Herbert for many years, old lad, but I never thought you’d be the sap to fall for him.’ ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Peter glumly. An elderly mouse-like man who was drinking at the bar beside him coughed apologetically and edged bashfully nearer. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said diffidently, ‘but your friend’s telling the truth.’ ‘How do you know?’ asked Peter suspiciously. ‘I can usually guess when he’s telling the truth – he makes a face as if it hurt him.’ ‘He isn’t pulling your leg this time, sir,’ said the man. ‘I happen to be a proof-reader at Parstone’s.’ The surprising thing about coincidences is that they so often happen. The mouse-like man was one of those amazing accidents on which the fate of nations may hinge, but there was no logical reason why he should not have been drinking at that bar as probably as at any other hostel in the district. And yet there is no doubt that if Mr Herbert Parstone could have foreseen the accident he would have bought that particular public house for the simple pleasure of closing it down lest any such coincidence should happen; but unhappily for him Mr Herbert Parstone was not a clairvoyant. This proof-reader – the term, by the way, refers to the occupation and not necessarily to the alcoholic content of the man –had been with Parstone for twelve years, and he was ready for a change. ‘I was with Parstone when he was just a small jobbing printer,’ he said, ‘before he took up this publishing game. That’s all he is now, really – a printer. But he’s going to have to get along without me. In the last three years I’ve taken one cut after another, till I don’t earn enough money to feed myself properly; and I can’t stand it any longer. I’ve got four more months on my contract, but after that I’m going to take another job.’ ‘Did you read my book?’ asked Peter. The man shook his head. ‘Nobody read your book, sir – if you’ll excuse my telling you. It was just put on a shelf for three weeks, and after that Parstone sent you his usual letter. That’s what happens to everything that’s sent in to him. If he gets his money, the book goes straight into the shop, and the proof-reader’s the first man who has to wade through it. Parstone doesn’t care whether it’s written in Hindustani.’ ‘But surely,’ protested Peter half-heartedly, ‘he couldn’t carry on a racket like that in broad daylight and get away with it?’ The reader looked at him with a rather tired smile on his mouse-like features. ‘It’s perfectly legal, sir. Parstone publishes the book. He prints copies and sends them around. It isn’t his fault if the reviewers won’t review it and the booksellers won’t buy it. He carries out his legal undertaking. But it’s a dirty business.’ After a considerably longer conversation, in the course of which a good deal more Scotch was consumed, Peter Quentin was convinced. He was so crestfallen on the way home that Simon took pity on him. ‘Let me read this opus,’ he said, ‘if you’ve got a spare copy. Maybe it isn’t so lousy, and if there’s anything in it we’ll send it along to some other place.’ He had the book the next day; and after ploughing through the first dozen pages his worst fears were realised. Peter Quentin was not destined to take his place in the genealogy of literature with Dumas, Tolstoy and Conan Doyle. The art of writing was not in him. His spelling had a grand simplicity that would have delighted the more progressive orthographists, his grammatical constructions followed in the footsteps of Gertrude Stein, and his punctuation marks seemed to have more connection with intervals for thought and opening beer-bottles than with the requirements of syntax. Moreover, like most first novels, it was embarrassingly personal. It was this fact which made Simon follow it to the bitter end, for the hero of the story was one ‘Ivan Grail, the Robbin Hood of modern crime,’ who could without difficulty be identified with the Saint himself, his ‘beutiful wife’, and ‘Frank Morris his acomplis whos hard-bitten featurs consealed a very clever brain and witt’. Simon Templar swallowed all the flattering evidences of hero-worship that adorned the untidy pages, and actually blushed. But after he had reached the conclusion – inscribed ‘FINNIS’ in triumphant capitals – he did some heavy thinking. Later on he saw Peter again. ‘What was it that bit your features so hard?’ he asked. ‘Did you try to kiss an alligator?’ Peter turned pink. ‘I had to describe them somehow,’ he said defensively. ‘You’re too modest,’ said the Saint, after inspecting him again. ‘They were not merely bitten – they were thoroughly chewed.’ ‘Well, what about the book?’ said Peter hopefully. ‘Was it any good?’ ‘It was lousy,’ Simon informed him, with the privileged candour of friendship. ‘It would have made Dumas turn in his grave. All the same, it may be more readable after I’ve revised it for you. And perhaps we will let Comrade Parstone publish it after all.’ Peter blinked. ‘But I thought—’ ‘I have an idea,’ said the Saint. ‘Parstone has published dud books too long. It’s time he had a good one. Will you get your manuscript back from him, Peter – tell him you want to make a few corrections, and that you’ll send him his money and let him print it. For anyone who so successfully conceals a very clever brain and wit,’ he added cruelly, ‘there are much more profitable ways of employing them than writing books, as you ought to know.’ For two weeks after that the Saint sat at his typewriter for seven hours a day, hammering out page after page of neat manuscript at astonishing speed. He did not merely revise Peter Quentin’s story – he re-wrote it from cover to cover, and the result would certainly not have been recognised by its original creator. The book was sent in again from his own address, and consequently Peter did not see the proofs. Simon Templar read them himself; and his ribs were aching long before he had finished. The Gay Adventurer, by Peter Quentin, was formally pushed out upon a callous world about two months later. The Times did not notice it, the library buyers did not refill their fountain pens to sign the order forms, the lynx-eyed scouts of Hollywood did not rush in with open contracts; but nevertheless it was possible for a man with vast patience and dogged determination to procure a copy, by which achievement Mr Parstone had fulfilled the letter of his contract. Simon Templar did not need to exercise patience and determination to obtain his copy, because the author’s presentation dozen came to his apartment; and it happened that Peter Quentin came there on the same morning. Peter noticed the open parcel of books, and fell on them at once, whinnying like an eager stallion. But he had scarcely glanced over the first page when he turned to the Saint with wrathful eyes. ‘This isn’t my book at all,’ he shouted indignantly. ‘We’ll call it a collaboration if you like,’ said the Saint generously. ‘But I thought you might as well have the credit. My name is so famous already—’ Peter had been turning the pages frantically. ‘But this – this is awful!’ he expostulated. ‘It’s – it’s—’ ‘Of course it is,’ agreed the Saint. ‘And that’s why you must never tell anyone that I had anything to do with it. When the case comes to court, I shall expect you to perjure yourself blue in the face on that subject.’ After the revelations that have been made in the early stages of this story, no one will imagine that on the same morning Mr Herbert Parstone was pacing feverishly up and down his office, quivering with anxiety and parental pride, stopping every now and then to peer at the latest circulation figures rushed in by scurrying office-boys and bawling frantic orders to an excited staff of secretaries, salesmen, shippers, clerks, exporters and truck drivers. As a matter of fact, even the most important and reputable publishers do not behave like that. They are usually too busy concentrating on mastering that loose shoulder and smooth follow-through which carries the ball well over that nasty bunker on the way to the fourteenth. Mr Herbert Parstone was not playing golf, because he had a bad cold; and he was in his office when the Saint called. The name on the card that was sent in to him was unfamiliar, but Mr Parstone never refused to see anyone who was kind enough to walk into his parlour. He was a short ginger-haired man with the kind of stomach without which no morning coat and gold watch-chain can be seen to their best advantage; and the redness of his prominent nose was not entirely due to his temporary affliction. ‘Mr Teblar?’ he said, with great but obstructed geniality. ‘Please sit dowd. I dode thig I’ve had the pleasure of beetig you before, have I?’ ‘I don’t think so,’ said the Saint pleasantly. ‘But any real pleasure is worth waiting for.’ He took the precious volume which he was carrying from under his arm, and held it up. ‘Did you publish this?’ Mr Parstone looked at it. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that is one of our publicashuds. A bost excelledd ad ibportad book, if I bay perbid byself to say so. A book, I bight say, which answers problebs which are dear to every wud of us today.’ ‘It will certainly have some problems to answer,’ said the Saint; ‘and I expect they’ll be dear enough. Do you know the name of the principal character in this book? Do you know who this biography is alleged to be about?’ ‘Biography?’ stammered Mr Parstone, blinking at the cover. ‘The book is a dovel. A work of fickshud. It is clearly explaid—’ ‘The book is supposed to be a biography,’ said the Saint. ‘And do you know the name of the principal character?’ Mr Parstone’s brow creased with thought. ‘Pridcipal character?’ he repeated. ‘Led be see, led be see. I ought to dough, oughtud I?’ He blew his nose several times, sniffed, sighed, and spread out his hand uncertainly. ‘Iddn it abazing?’ he said. ‘The dabe was od the tip of by tug, but dow I cadd rebember id.’ ‘The name is Simon Templar,’ said the Saint grimly; and Mr Parstone sat up. ‘What?’ he ejaculated. Simon opened the book and showed him the name in plain print. Then he took it away to a chair and lighted a cigarette. ‘Rather rude of you, wasn’t it?’ he murmured. ‘Well, by dear Bister Teblar,’ said Parstone winningly. ‘I trust you are dot thinkig that any uncomblibendary referedds was intended. Far frob id. These rebarkable coidcidedces will happud. Ad yet it is dot every yug bad of your age who fides his dabe preserved for posterity id such a work as that. The hero of that book, as I rebember him, was a fellow of outstaddig charb—’ ‘He was a low criminal,’ said the Saint virtuously. ‘Your memory is failing you, Herbert. Let me read you some of the best passages.’ He turned to a page he had marked. ‘Listen to this, Herbert,’ he said. ‘“Simon Templar was never particular about how he made money, so long as he made it. The drug traffic was only one of his many sources of income, and his conscience was never touched by the thought of the hundreds of lives he ruined by his insatiable avarice. Once, in a night club, he pointed out to me a fine and beautiful girl on whose lovely face the ravages of dope were already beginning to make their mark. ‘I’ve had two thousand pounds from her since I started her on the stuff,’ he said gloatingly, ‘and I’ll have five thousand more before it kills her.’ I could multiply instances of that kind by the score, and refrain only from fear of nauseating my readers. Sufficient, at least, has already been said to show what an unspeakable ruffian was this man who called himself the Saint.”’ However hard it might have been for Mr Parstone to place the name of Simon Templar, he was by no means ignorant of the Saint. His watery eyes popped halfway out of their sockets, and his jaw hardened at the same time. ‘So you’re the Saind?’ he said. ‘Of course,’ murmured Simon. ‘Id your own words, a low cribidal—’ Simon shook his head. ‘Oh, no, Herbert,’ he said. ‘By no means as low as that. My reputation may be bad, but it’s only rumour. You may whisper it to your friends, but the law doesn’t allow you to put it in writing. That’s libel. And you couldn’t even get Chief Inspector Teal to testify that my record would justify anything like the language this book of yours has used about me. ‘My sins were always fairly idealistic, and devoted to the squashing of beetles like yourself – not to trading in drugs and grinding the faces of the poor. But you haven’t heard anything like the whole of it. Listen to some more.’ He turned to another selected passage. ‘“The Saint”,’ he read, ‘“always seemed to derive a peculiar malicious pleasure from robbing and swindling those who could least afford to lose. To my dying day, I shall be haunted by the memory of the fiendish glee which distorted his face when he told me that he had stolen five pounds from a woman with seven children, who had scraped and saved for months to get the money together. He accepted the money from her as a fee for trying to trace the grave of her father, who had been reported ‘missing’ in 1943. Of course he never made any attempt to carry out his share of the bargain. He played this cruel trick on several occasions, and always with the same sadistic pleasure, which I believe meant far more to him than the actual cash which he derived from it.”’ ‘Is that id the book too?’ asked Parstone hoarsely. ‘Naturally,’ said the Saint. ‘That’s what I’m reading it from. And there are lots more interesting things. Look here. “The bogus companies floated by Templar, in which thousands upon thousands of widows and orphans were deprived—”’ ‘Wait!’ interrupted Parstone tremblingly. ‘This is terrible – a terrible coidcideds. The book will be withdrawd at wuds. Hardly eddywud will have had tibe to read it. Ad if eddy sball cobbensation I cad give—’ Simon closed his book with a smile and laid it on Mr Parstone’s desk. ‘Shall we say fifty thousand pounds?’ he suggested affably. Mr Parstone’s face reddened to the verge of an apoplectic stroke, and he brought up his handkerchief with shaking hands. ‘How buch?’ he whispered. ‘Fifty thousand pounds,’ repeated the Saint. ‘After all, that’s a very small amount of damages to ask for a libel like this. If the case has to go to court, I think it will be admitted that never in the whole history of modern law has such a colossal libel been put on paper. If there is any crime under the sun of which I’m not accused in that book, I’ll sit down right now and eat it. And there are three hundred and twenty pages of it – eighty thousand words of continuous and unbridled insult. For a thing like that, Herbert, I think fifty thousand pounds is pretty cheap.’ ‘You could’n get it,’ said Parstone harshly. ‘It’s the author’s liability—’ ‘I know that clause,’ answered the Saint coolly, ‘and you may be interested to know that it has no legal value whatever. In a successful libel action, the author, printer and publisher are joint tortfeasors, and none of them can indemnify the other. Ask your solicitor. As a matter of fact,’ he added prophetically, ‘I don’t expect I shall be able to recover anything from the author, anyway. Authors are usually broke. But you are both the printer and the publisher, and I’m sure I can collect from you.’ Mr Parstone stared at him with blanched lips. ‘But fifty thousad pouds is ibpossible,’ he whined. ‘It would ruid be!’ ‘That’s what I mean to do, dear old bird,’ said the Saint gently. ‘You’ve gone on swindling a lot of harmless idiots for too long already, and now I want you to see what it feels like when it happens to you.’ He stood up, and collected his hat. ‘I’ll leave you the book,’ he said, ‘in case you want to entertain yourself some more. But I’ve got another copy; and if I don’t receive your cheque by the first post on Friday morning it will go straight to my solicitors. And you can’t kid yourself about what that will mean.’ For a long time after he had gone Mr Herbert Parstone sat quivering in his chair. And then he reached out for the book and began to skim through its pages. And with every page his livid face went greyer. There was no doubt about it. Simon Templar had spoken the truth. The book was the most monumental libel that could ever have found its way into print. Parstone’s brain reeled before the accumulation of calumnies which it unfolded. His furious ringing of the bell brought his secretary running. ‘Fide me that proof-reader!’ he howled. ‘Fide be the dab fool who passed this book!’ He flung the volume on to the floor at her feet. ‘Sed hib to be at wuds! I’ll show hib. I’ll bake hib suffer. By God, I’ll—’ The other things that Mr Parstone said he would do cannot be recorded in such a respectable publication as this. His secretary picked up the book and looked at the title. ‘Mr Timmins left yesterday – he was the man you fired four months ago,’ she said; but even then Mr Parstone was no wiser.