have heard the ovation--they nearly went wild! And the look on
Underwood's face! Worth waiting twenty years for."

"And the reporters," snapped Phillip. "Don't forget the reporters." He
whirled on the small dark man sitting quietly in the corner. "How about
that, Jake? Did you see the morning papers? This thief not only steals
our work, he splashes it all over the countryside in red ink."

Dr. Jacob Miles coughed apologetically. "What Phillip is so stormed up
about is the prematurity of it all," he said to Coffin. "After all,
we've hardly had an acceptable period of clinical trial."

"Nonsense," said Coffin, glaring at Phillip. "Underwood and his men were
ready to publish their discovery within another six weeks. Where would
we be then? How much clinical testing do you want? Phillip, you had the
worst cold of your life when you took the vaccine. Have you had any
since?"

"No, of course not," said Phillip peevishly.

"Jacob, how about you? Any sniffles?"

"Oh, no. No colds."

"Well, what about those six hundred students from the University? Did I
misread the reports on them?"

"No--98 per cent cured of active symptoms within twenty-four hours. Not
a single recurrence. The results were just short of miraculous." Jake
hesitated. "Of course, it's only been a month...."

"Month, year, century! Look at them! Six hundred of the world's most
luxuriant colds, and now not even a sniffle." The chubby doctor sank
down behind the desk, his ruddy face beaming. "Come, now, gentlemen, be
reasonable. Think positively! There's work to be done, a great deal of
work. They'll be wanting me in Washington, I imagine. Press conference
in twenty minutes. Drug houses to consult with. How dare we stand in the
path of Progress? We've won the greatest medical triumph of all
times--the conquering of the Common Cold. We'll go down in history!"

And he was perfectly right on one point, at least.

They did go down in history.

* * * * *

The public response to the vaccine was little less than monumental. Of
all the ailments that have tormented mankind through history none was
ever more universal, more tenacious, more uniformly miserable than the
common cold. It was a respecter of no barriers, boundaries, or classes;
ambassadors and chambermaids snuffled and sneezed in drippy-nosed
unanimity. The powers in the Kremlin sniffed and blew and wept genuine
tears on drafty days, while senatorial debates on earth-s