Sam handed over another sheet, to which his companion gave as close a scrutiny as to the first. “I don’t understand that,” he said, pointing to a statement. “How do you get that?”
“That’s easy,” replied Sam, proud of his achievement. “I’ll show you.” He looked about for a loose sheet of paper.
“Use this,” offered Mulcahy, turning to the blank page at the end of his book. “I can rub it out afterward.”
Sam took the geometry and quickly jotted down on the fly leaf the omitted intermediate steps. “I see that,” said Mulcahy, and devoted himself once more to the study of Sam’s diagrams. Sam turned back the leaves of the geometry. On the margin of the page next to the last he found the two letters D. P.
This discovery effectually occupied Sam’s mind during the few minutes that remained before the recitation bell sounded. His papers went unnoticed through Mulcahy’s hands. While the bell was ringing, Mulcahy asked a last question, and Sam leaned absently toward him to follow the questioner’s finger upon the page. At this moment, while their heads were close together, some one called sharply from the door at their side, “Archer!”
Sam turned and beheld Duncan Peck grinning at him in the doorway.
“What did I tell you!” Peck threw at him in a jeering undertone, and disappeared behind the entering class.
“There’s one thing I could tell you,” thought Sam, grimly, as he faced front again, “but I won’t. You can find your missing books yourself!”
When the instructor asked how many had succeeded in proving the whole five originals, Phipps alone put up his hand. Three, including Archer and Mulcahy, averred that they could do four. Others professed three and two and one, and some none at all. Mulcahy was sent to the board and returned in triumph, sure of a good mark for the recitation. He had made excellent use of Archer’s solution. Sam was not called on.