"If," I deciphered, "you mean why am I here, sure! This is an unveiling. Take off your polysyllables, Doctor. You're in the presence of genius." "Genius?" MacDowell stared distastefully at Hank's mail-order suit and bulldog shoes. "Genius?" "When you say that," I advised, "grovel. You see before you, Doc, a man deserving of the finest faculty position dear old M. U. has to offer. Meet Hank Cleaver, the human slide rule!" * * * * * MacDowell frowned. "I deplore, Blakeson, your unacademic speech habits. Furthermore, you are undoubtedly aware that there are at present no unoccupied seats on the Midland faculty. If your friend would care to deposit his credentials with my secretary, however, and write an application for admittance to our staff--" Horse-sense Hank's eyes accused mine. "Write, Jim? Shucks, you didn't tell me I had to write nothin'. You know I can't write." Indignation overcame Prexy MacDowell's inertia. He came to his feet quivering like a radium finder in a bucket full of pitchblende. "What! Blakeson, do you mean to tell me you have the effrontery to suggest for addition to our faculty a man who can neither read nor write? Young man, this time you have gone too far! I fail to recognize the humor in this situation. I'll have you--" "Look, Prexy," I said, "sit down and take the load off your brains. You didn't hire me, and you can't fire me. I report to the Advisory Council. Now, listen to me. This man is the greatest find since Pharoah's daughter went snipe hunting in the bulrushes. He knows stuff and things." "Stuff?" wheezed the college president. "Things?" "Ask him. Anything at all. He's got more answers than a quiz program." MacDowell stiffened like a strychnine victim. "I refuse," he proclaimed stentoriously, "to lend myself to such a display. The dignity of my office--" Helen MacDowell had been staring at Hank with frank curiosity. Now she said, "Papa, why don't you follow Jim's suggestion? Ask Mr. Cleaver a question." That got him. "Very well," he said. "I will ask a single question. But if he fails to answer it--" He had a dirty look in his eyes. I said, "Serve it straight, Doc. No tricky place names or technical phrases." "I shall merely ask our rustic friend," said MacDowell stiffly, "to explain to us the fundamental laws of motion as established by Sir Isaac Newton." And he glared at Hank and me malevolently. Merely! I looked at Hank, and the blank expression on his pan gave me the queasies. He said wonderingly. "Sir Isaac Newton, Jim? Who's he?" "Skip that part, Hank," I advised. "What the Doc wants to know is: what natural laws apply to things moving? You know--what do they have to do or can't do?" "Oh!" Hank's brow furrowed. He knotted his ham-like paws and unknotted them again. Finally a light shone in his eyes and he said. "Well, far's I can see, fust thing is that they can't get goin' by themselves, or if once they do, they can't stop less'n somethin' stops 'em."