saying to the dazed professor. He explained how his pictures had enabled many a novelist to "eat up the highway in a buzz-wagon." As he ap proached the time when the novelists besieged him, he gave full play to his imagination. One, he said, sought out his apartments in an aeroplane.
"Say, Professor," he finished, "we're in the same boat. Both hiding from writers. A fellow that's spent his life selling neckties—well, he can't exactly appreciate our situation. There's what you might call a bond between you and me. D'ye know, I felt drawn to you, just after I fired that first shot. That's why I didn't blaze away again. We re going to be great friends—I can read it in the stars."
He took the older man s hand feelingly, shook it, and walked away, casting a covert glance of triumph at Mr. Magee.
The face of the holder of the Crandall Chair of Comparative Literature was a study. He looked first at one young man, then at the other. Again he applied the handkerchief to his shining head.
"All this is very odd," he said thoughtfully.
