Bolton paused and looked at the Doctor suspiciously.
"What are you doing—pulling my leg?" he demanded.
"Not at all, my dear fellow. Carnes, doesn't the sight of the glowing orb of night influence you to pious meditation upon the frailty of human life and the insignificance of human ambition?"
"Not to any very great degree," replied Carnes dryly.
"Carnesy, old dear, I fear that you are a crass materialist. I am beginning to despair of ever inculcating in you any respect for the finer and subtler things of life. I must try Bolton. Bolton, have you ever seen a finer moon? Remember that I won't move a step until you have carefully considered the matter and fully answered my question."
Bolton looked first at the Doctor, then at Carnes, and finally he looked reluctantly at the moon.
"It's a fine one," he admitted, "but all full moons look large on clear nights at this time of the year."
"Then you have studied the moon?" cried Dr. Bird with delight. "I was sure—"