Well, at any rate I heard a noise. And then the next thing I heard was his bull voice calling, "Bugsy! Bugsy!" Before I could head him off he was at the top of the steps and clumping down. My poor Romans just stared at him. "So here you are," he said triumphantly. "Is that odd?" I replied. "After all, it's my house. And, while we're on the matter, I'd like to know how you got in, and by what right--" "Oh, shut up," he said and pointed at my Romans. "Are these the sixteen you stole first?" "I don't know what you're talking about," I answered coldly. "These are some foreign students from one of my classes. We're holding a seminar in Roman customs." He just snorted, and, ignoring me entirely, turned to the nearest Roman and started jabbering at him in barbarous high-school Latin. I even had trouble following him, but my Roman didn't. His face lit up and before I could say a word he was telling Myers all about what had happened to them, and the tests I'd been giving them. And right then and there, I learned something about Roman ingratitude. Can you believe it? Those sixteen young fellows weren't the least bit thankful for being saved from death in the Arena. All that concerned them was the fact that they were homesick. Homesick! For lions and gladiators! * * * * * I interrupted and asked my Roman whether he hadn't been well treated. And he turned on me and said--almost in those very words--that he had--he'd been too well treated. He'd been a hardworking artisan and Christian all his life and it didn't come natural to him to loll around on cushions and play with children's toys. He ended up by saying that if I gave him another test he'd ram it down my throat. Well, after something like that, I was only too glad to get rid of them. I told Myers so and we started up the stairs. Just at that moment there was the most curious shiver--decidedly unpleasant--and we all suddenly found ourselves back at the foot of the stairs again. Myers turned white as a sheet. He gasped. "Good God, I didn't think it would start this quickly!"--And I don't mind telling _you_, dear Diary, that for a second even I felt a touch of fear. We hurried, all eighteen of us, across the darkened campus and up to his laboratory. Twice more those curious shivers threw us back a step or two in time, and we had to do things over. "It's cracking faster," said Myers, and herded my Romans into an area marked off by chalk lines on the floor. Myers took me by the arm.