money, thinking of money! How mercenary he is!"

"Standard Oil is nowhere," said Snorky feverishly.

"Don't I know it!"

"Oil'll run out but there'll always be mosquitoes and legs!"

"Darn you, Snorky! Shut up and let me sleep!"

But how was he to sleep with the vision that Snorky's avaricious
imagination held out to him? All night long he tossed about restlessly,
wandering in a forest of legs; white ones and red ones, black ones and
yellow ones, tall ones and short ones, fat, thin, bow-legged and
crooked, all the legs in the world waiting for him to rise up and
protect them!

The next morning it was worse. All his imagination, suddenly diverted
from the exact scientific contemplation, was halted before the
stupendous contemplation of future profits.

"Snorky Green is a bad influence," he said moodily as he trudged out
heavy-headed from morning chapel. Do what he might, the contamination
spread. With all the long fatigue of patient investigation he knew was
ahead, his mind leaped over the present and galloped into the future.

"Multiply twice ninety-two million legs by six pair of socks," he found
himself repeating. "Oil may run out, but you bet there'll always be
mosquitoes and legs."

Yes, it was greater than Standard Oil. It was fabulous to conceive of
the wealth that would be his. All at once the John C. Bedelle Gymnasium
seemed ludicrously inadequate. He would double the present equipment!
There would be a second campus--Bedelle Circle! The school lacked water;
he would create a lake for it and the John C. Bedelle Boathouse. . . .

* * * * *

"Bedelle, kindly shine for us. You may translate, John, but be cautious
and not too free."

The Roman's mocking voice brought him precipitately to his feet. He
opened his book but the passage had escaped him and though he dug Shrimp
Bedient savagely in the back, no signal returned.

"Excellent so far, quite exceptionally excellent; nothing to criticize,"
said the Roman's rising and falling inflection. "Go on."

"Please, sir, I didn't do the advance."

The class roared and the Roman said:

"Too bad, John, too bad! No luck in guessing this morning. We're in the
review, John. Too bad! Dreaming again, John? Don't do it, don't do it!
The country will take care of itself, without you. Times are hard, John.
Another year in the Second Form is a dreadful drain on Father's
pocket-book. Sit down, John, and don't dream--don't do it."