had
made one here."

"But you find difficulty in suggesting such a thought convincingly? That
is because I have not conceivably made any such mistake. A Harvey must
discover the theory of the circulation of the blood; it is the business
of lesser men to apply the discovery to practical ends. It takes a
Whitney to invent the cotton gin, but the dullest negro roustabout can
operate it. Why multiply illustrations of a truism? Theory, you
perceive, calls for other and higher gifts than application. The man who
can formulate the eternal laws of social evolution can safely leave it
to others to put his laws into practice."

Sharlee gazed at him in silence, and he returned her gaze, his face
wearing a look of the rankest complacence that she had ever seen upon a
human countenance. But all at once his eyes fell upon his watch, and his
brow clouded.

"Meantime," he went on abruptly, "there remains the question of my
board."

"Yes.... Do I understand that you--derive your living from these social
laws that you write up for others to practice?"

"Oh, no--impossible! There is no living to be made there. When my book
comes out there may be a different story, but that is two years and ten
months off. Every minute taken from it for the making of money is, as
you may now understand, decidedly unfortunate. Still," he added
depressedly, "I must arrange to earn something, I suppose, since my
father's assistance is so problematical. I worked for money in New York,
for awhile."

"Oh--did you?"

"Yes, I helped a lady write a thesaurus."

"Oh...."

"It was a mere fad with her. I virtually wrote the work for her and
charged her five dollars an hour." He looked at her narrowly. "Do you
happen to know of any one here who wants work of that sort done?"

The agent did not answer. By a series of covert glances she had been
trying to learn, upside down, what it was that Mr. Queed was reading.
"Sociology," she had easily picked out, but the chapter heading, on the
opposite page, was more troublesome, and, deeply absorbed, she had now
just succeeded in deciphering it. The particular division of his subject
in which Mr. Queed was so much engrossed was called "Man's Duty to His
Neighbors."

Struck by the silence, Sharlee looked up with a small start, and the
faintest possible blush. "I beg your pardon?"

"I asked if you knew of any lady here, a wealthy one, who would like to
write a thesaurus as a fad."

The girl was obliged to admit