"That is your hastily formed opinion. Permit me to warn you against forming opinions too quickly. It is a bad habit to get into, and——"
"Sir!" shouted the little man, "there is the door!"
Scudmore bowed profoundly.
"I noticed it when I came in," he chirped. "Very ordinary door, but I don't suppose we can expect anything better out in this wild section of the country."
Scotch was ready to tear his hair.
"Will you take a hint, or do you need a kick?" he bellowed, in his hoarsest tone.
"A man with hair and whiskers colored like yours should always beware of undue excitement. Don't think of kicking anybody, for you may lose your dignity. Speaking about aërial navigation, beyond the shadow of a doubt, I, Septemas Scudmore, A. M., B. A., LL. D., and B. C, have solved the problem. I say beyond the shadow of a doubt, and I mean exactly what I say. It is not a matter of fans and wheels——"
"I think it is a matter of wheels," broke in Scotch, "and they are in your head."
Scudmore waved one thin hand loftily, his nose high in the air.
"Peace, professor, peace," he said. "It ill becomes you to interrupt a fellow scientist. Hear me out."