“Will it explode?” asked Tommy.
“No. But I can't work with anybody round me.”
“Why can't you? Honestly now.”
“Well,” said Bill, “I feel like a fool when I fail, and I have a rotten temper, and—and—” Bill hesitated; then his face flushed.
“Then what?” asked Tommy, curiously. “Well, I'm fond of you and I don't want to have a fight when I'm out of my head. Now will you go or will you stay?”
“I'll go. If I ever landed on the point of the chin—” And shaking his head dolefully, Tommy shook hands with Bill and left.
There was always his automobile. He took Mrs. Clayton out for a joy-ride.
A few days later Bill said to Tommy at breakfast: “Your new high-tension generator is a wonder. I can get a very high-frequency current—”
“You can?” interrupted Tommy, with a frown. He did this merely to encourage Bill, who thereupon explained:
“Of course I'm using a step-up transformer with it, and something has happened!”