Some hours later, the doorbell rang and Thomas went to the door to find a letter, addressed to Thomas Lionel, Ph.D. It was from an Arthur Hamilton, M.D.
"Hm-m-m," said Thomas. "Is there something the matter with me?" He slit the envelope and removed a bill for consultation.
"Consultation? Consultation? What in the name of all that's unholy is he consulting a doctor about? Or is the doctor consulting—no, the bill is rendered in the wrong direction. I know my consulting engineer."
The physicist put on his hat and headed forth. It was not much later that he was sitting again in the same chair, facing Hamilton.
"You're back."
"Nope," smiled Thomas. "I'm here, not back."
"But you were here last week."
"That was another fellow. Look, Hamilton, I think I require your assistance. I have an engineer that is no end of bother."
"Want to get rid of him, huh?" answered Hamilton. The suppressed smile fought valiantly and won, and the doctor's face beamed and then he broke into laughter. "What am I, anyway? Man, I can't take money from both sides. That's ... that's ... barratry, or something."