"If everything is all right we incorporate Bedelle, patent the foot regulator, organize a stock company, and I shall accept the posts of President and Treasurer, with fifty-one per cent of the stock." "Fifty-one per cent, Doc!" "My invariable terms. The responsibility and the control must be mine. I don't ask fifty-two per cent, or fifty-three per cent. I ask only protection. Take it or leave it." Skippy gazed at Snorky, who pondered a long while, but Macnooder's professional manner sunk deep into their imaginations. "You don't trust us!" said Skippy sorrowfully. "Business is business!" said Doc, pointing to the documents he had signed. "Did you trust me?" "I sort of expected we'd all go cahoots," said Skippy reluctantly. "Fifty-one per cent, gentlemen, or good day," said Macnooder pompously. "Take it," said Snorky. Skippy drew a long breath. It had been a day of disillusions. What millions had slipped away! Truly the lot of the inventor was hard! "Well?" said Macnooder, rising and shooting his cuffs. "Is it or is it not?" "It is," said Skippy heavily. "And now, gentlemen," said Macnooder briskly, "I make no promises. I shall examine the scheme ruthlessly, without sentiment or prejudice--but perhaps, likewise who knows!--Gentlemen, your hands, this moment may be historic!" Caught by the sudden inspiration of how history might some day look back to these humble beginnings, with a common gesture they rose and clasped hands. CHAPTER VII TRAGEDY BEDELLE, Incorporated! John C. Bedelle, The Bathtub King! For a delicious week Skippy sailed into the future on the magic carpet of his imagination. He dreamed through the long dull hours of recitations; he dreamed when huddled in sweater he watched the scurrying of the baseball candidates; he dreamed over the prunes at breakfast and the prune whip at night, and in his soft and delicious bed he lay awake for hours planning out the disposal of his future wealth. The week ended, as all weeks must. At precisely five o'clock in the afternoon, with that fine sense of ceremony that was his, Doc Macnooder knocked at the door and entered. "Well!" said Snorky Green and Skippy in joyful chorus. "Your hats and follow me!" said Macnooder in his best Dramatic Club manner. The tone sent a chill down their backs. Silently, already prepared for the great catastrophe, they filed across the campus, to the Upper House. Not a word had been spoken. "We will now proceed to examine the Fourth Form baths," said Macnooder, in the same lugubrious voice. Utterly and instinctively without hope Skippy clutched his roommate's arm and stumbled down the stairs. Something was coming, something that meant the end of all! Macnooder, entering the first bathhouse, flung back the door and pointed to the bathtub. "Mr. Bedelle, there is your answer!" "Jerusalem, the faucets are in the middle!" said Snorky, recoiling with a gasp.