factors such as patents applied for
and granted. Periods of consultation by private industry, and so on.
Each of these factors is plotted separately, then combined into the
overall Index."

Baker turned the pages slowly, showing Fenwick a bleak record of black
boundary lines cutting through nearly virginal territory on the charts.
Clearwater's evaluation was reflected in a small spot of color near the
bottom edge.

* * * * *

Fenwick stared at the record without expression for a long time. "What
else do you chart?" he said finally.

"The next thing we evaluate is the performance of students graduated
during the past twenty-five years."

"Clearwater is only ten years old," said Fenwick.

"True," said Baker, "and that is why, I believe, we have obtained such
an anomalous showing in the chart of this factor."

Fenwick observed that the colored area had made a considerable invasion
on his side of the boundary on this chart. "Why anomalous? It looks like
we make a pretty good showing here."

"On the face of it, this is true," Baker admitted. "The ten-year record
of the graduates of Clearwater is exceptional. But the past decade has
been unusual in the scope of opportunities, you must admit."

"Your standard level must take this into account."

"It does. But somehow, I am sure there is a factor we haven't recognized
here."

"There might be," said Fenwick. "There might be, at that."

"Another factor which contributes to the Index," said Baker, "is the
cultural impact of the institution upon the community. We measure that
in terms of the number and quality of cultural activities brought into
the community by the university or college. We include concerts,
lectures, terpsichorean activities, Broadway plays, and so on."

"Terpsichorean activities. I like that," said Fenwick.

"Primarily ballet," said Baker.

"Sure."

"Clearwater's record here is very low. It fact, there isn't any."

"This helps us get turned down for a research grant in physics?"

"It's a factor in the measurement of the overall status."

"Look," said Fenwick, "the citizens of Clearwater are so infernally busy
with their own shindigs that they wouldn't know what to do if we brought
a long-hair performance into town. If it isn't square-dancing in the
Grange Hall, it's a pageant in the Masonic Temple. The married kids
would probably like to see a Broadway play, all right, but they're so
darned busy rehearsing