I am pretty much disgusted. The Prof's stuff sounded good. If I'd read it in a science magazine I would've believed it and remembered it. But nothing happens. Next morning I am having breakfast when I remember about the skin of a egg. That is crazy. It ain't scientific; not modern scientific, anyhow. But I go upstairs with a egg-shell from breakfast. I get out that thin skin from inside and put it in the test-tube. Nothing happens. I get disgusted all over again. I sit down with a science magazine, and I am reading it morbid, when I smell something funny. The test-tube is empty. There is a little white vapor around the bottom. There is a hole in the test-tube; there is a hole in the sink; there is a hole in the floor underneath. It stinks something awful. I don't know how far down the hole goes, but I know I got to get a laboratory and work this business out! * * * * * I tell old Jode about it. I show him the hole in the floor and the sink. He turns funny colors. "You mighta made poison gas, Buck!" he says. "You coulda killed yourself! It coulda been poison!" "It wasn't whipping cream," I agree. "It's what those alchemists said they got. I got my doubts the Prof ever did this experiment, even if he said he did. You better let me fix up a temporary laboratory and make that elixir for you." But Jode looks pained. "Buck," he says, "I have sounded out Mr. Vachti. I have explained that I have been softened up on this business. I have acted dumb so he thinks I have fallen for it. He is checking up; you got to stay out of this party!" "But the Prof ain't going to make the real stuff!" I say, grim. "I'll bet--what kinda apparatus is he buyin'?" Jode shows me a list. He is fat and white-haired an very impressive to look at, but when it comes to science he has to take my word for things. I say, scornful: "Phoney! I hunted up Hermes Trismigestus in the library yesterday and got the formula. That vacuum distillation apparatus ain't going to be used! It's just to dress up the lab." "It's wrong, eh?" says Jode. "It's crazy!" I says. "Just good apparatus wasted!" "Fine!" says Jode, relieved. "I didn't think he believed it himself; if he wasn't a crook I'd be messed up. But he's still got me worried. How's he gonna pull that trick of makin' rats young again, Buck? Mr. Vachti wants to see that--him handling the rats. If the Prof is smart enough to put that over, Mr. Vachti is hooked!" "If _I_ wanted to do it," I says, scornful, "I'd put some rats on short grub an' castor oil and get 'em thin. Then I'd powder their fur to make 'em gray, and probably get a vet to give me something to make 'em off their feed and languid. They'd look plenty old! And all they'd need to get young again would be two or three days of good eatin' an' no castor oil."