oaned in suffocation:

"Do you dare to ask me to put false marks on examination-papers, sir?"

"Aw, Professor, what's the dif? You couldn't grind Latin and Greek into
me with a steel-rolling machine. Gimme a chance! There's a little girl
waiting for me outside and a big job. I can't get one without the
other--and I don't get either unless you folks slip me the sheepskin."

"Impossible, sir! Astounding! Insulting! Impossible!"

"Have a heart, can't you?"

"Leave the room, sir, at once!"

"All right!" Teed sighed, and turned away. At the door he paused to
murmur, "All right for you, Stookie-tookie!"

Litton's spectacles almost exploded from his nose.

"What's that?" he shrieked.

Teed turned and came back, with an intolerable smirk, straight to the
desk. He leaned on it with odious familiarity and grinned.

"Say, Prof, did you ever hear of the dictagraph?"

"No! And I don't care to now."

"You ought to read some of the modern languages, Prof! Dictagraph comes
from two perfectly good Latin words: dictum and graft--well, you'll know
'em. But the Greeks weren't wise to this little device. I got part of it
here."

He took from his pocket the earpiece of the familiar engine of
latter-day detective romance. He explained it to the horribly fascinated
Litton, whose hair stood on end and whose voice stuck in his throat in
the best Vergilian manner. Before he quite understood its black magic
Litton suspected the infernal purpose it had been put to. His wrath had
melted to a sickening fear when Teed reached the conclusion of his
uninterrupted discourse:

"The other night I was calling on a pair of girls at the dormitory where
your--where Professor Binley lives. They pointed out the sofa near the
fireplace where you and the professoress sit and hold hands and make
googoo eyes."

There was that awful "oo" sound again! Litton was in an icy
perspiration; but he was even more afraid for his beloved, precious
sweetheart than for himself--and that was being about as much afraid as
there is. Teed went on relentlessly, gloating like a satyric mask:

"Well, I had an idea, and the girls fell for it with a yip of joy. The
next evening I called I carried a wire from my room across to that
dormitory and nobody paid any attention while I brought it through a
window and under the carpet to the back of the sofa. And there it
waited, laying for you. And over at my digs I had it attached to a
phonograph by a little invention of my