"Why, yes. All depends on whether the Shad wakes up or not. And then, why hand labor?" "I suppose you have something more recherche to offer," said the Tennessee Shad cuttingly, having recovered. "Why, yes, I might," said Stover coolly. "A real inventor would run the whole thing by machinery. Who's got an alarm clock?" Dennis, mystified, returned running with his. Stover, securing it with strings, fastened it firmly on the table, which he moved near the scene of operations. He then lowered the upper half of the window, assuring himself that a slight impetus would start it. To the sash he attached a stout string which he ran through a pulley fixed to the top of the window frame; to the string he fastened a weight which he carefully balanced on the edge of a chair; to the weight, thus fastened, he attached another string which he led to the clock and made fast to the stem that wound the alarm. Then he straightened up, cast a glance over the Shad's handiwork and went to the register. "When the window shuts it should open the register, of course--first principles," he said crushingly. He disconnected the string from the bed and arranged it on the window. Having wound the clock he addressed his audience: "It's a simple little thing," he said with a wave of his hand. "I happened to remember that the key of an alarm clock turns as the alarm works. That's all there is to it. Set the alarm when you want to wake up--see--like this. Alarm goes off, winds up spring, throws weight off balance, weight falls, shuts the window, opens the register and you stay under the covers. Practical demonstration now proceeding." The mechanism worked exactly as he had predicted. The Tennessee Shad and the Wild Irishman, transfixed with awe, watched with dropped mouths the operation. Finnegan, the first to recover, salaamed in true Oriental fashion. "Mr. Edison," he said in a whisper, "don't take advantage of two innocent babes in the wood. Did you honestly just work this out?" "Oh, no, of course not," said Dink loftily. "My father told me,--it cost him a fortune; he gave years of his life to perfecting it!" "And this to me!" said the exponent of the superlative reproachfully. The Tennessee Shad rose and offered his hand with a gesture worthy of Washington. "Sir to you. I am your humble servant. Wonderful! Marvelous! Smashing! Terrific! Sublime!" "Do it again," said Dennis de Brian de Boru. The alarm being wound and set, the operation was repeated with the same success, while Dennis danced about excitedly and the Tennessee Shad contemplated it with dreamy absorption. "Jemima!" said Dennis. "And it works for any time?" "Any time," said Dink, with one hand gracefully resting on his hip. "Cracky!" exclaimed Dennis, prancing excitedly toward the door. "I'll get the whole House up." "Dennis!" Finnegan stopped, surprised at the note of authority in the Tennessee Shad's voice. "Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan; back and sit down." "What's wrong?"