"_Tempora mutantur_," he murmured regretfully, "Eh, gentlemen?" "True," said Billings, pursing his lips. "Ah, how true!" "By Jove, ought to be something done, you know," I declared. "Out of millions, not a single human specimen available," groaned the professor dismally. "And my instruments ready for over a year." "Cheer up, sir; you'll have a go yet," Billings encouraged. "Ah!" The professor's little eyes swept Billings' person critically. "Perhaps you, sir, would like the privilege--" Billings staggered back a step or two precipitately. "Delighted; nothing'd give me greater pleasure, but so infernally busy," he explained hurriedly. "Just my confounded luck; unfortunately, got to go to Egypt right away--probably to-morrow morning." The professor sighed again in his disappointment. "No matter; I shall find some one in time," he said grimly. "But I shall abandon this foolish persuasion and cajolery as unworthy of the scientist. Do we lower ourselves with such devices in securing a butterfly or a grasshopper or a frog or any animate specimen except man? Certainly not; we capture and etherize them." He glanced about the room and beckoned us with his finger. "I have lately had my eye upon the gas man," he said in a low tone. He closed one eye impressively. "Ah!" said Billings, his mouth dropping open wide. "The individual who comes at intervals to take the quarters from the slot meter. H'm, fine subject, gentlemen!" "Great!" agreed Billings. "Ripping idea," I tried as a reply. The professor clasped his fingers tightly and rubbed his thumbs one over the other. He brightened visibly. "The party has to go down upon his knees and stoop behind the end of the tub in the bath-room," he continued. "It was my thought that while in that advantageous position the sudden, quick application of a Turkish bath towel saturated in ether would--Eh? Do you follow me?" "Devilish clever, you know," I said. I had already selected this for reply for this time. Billings failed to come up. He just stared hard, rolled his eyes and ran his finger around under his collar. The professor, in the act of taking another pinch from my shirt front, paused with a little jerk. Then his great head shot forward in front of his rigid neck--so suddenly, by Jove, that I reached out to try to catch it, don't you know. He made just two strides to the table, ten feet away, and pounced upon the pajamas with obviously trembling hands. And behind his back Billings relapsed into an arm-chair and fanned himself with a magazine. His head dropped back, and upon his fat face was a what-you-call-it smile of peace. He closed his eyes for an instant. "Suffering Thomas cats! At last!" I heard him murmur. CHAPTER XVIII I RECEIVE A SHOCK The professor fumblingly sought through his pockets, and producing a pair of spectacles with phenomenally large lenses, adjusted them shakily. He bent over the pajamas eagerly.