Professor Whitburn was at his desk, drawing diagrams on a sheet of paper. Harry stood a moment, in silence; then, realizing that time was precious, he coughed to attract the old man’s attention. The professor looked up.
“Ah, Vincent,” he said. “What do you wish?”
“Nothing, sir,” said Harry. “That is, nothing for myself. I was about to retire, and I wondered if you might have some late instructions — “
“None at all,” replied the professor brusquely. “I would have called you before this, Vincent.”
A tiny alarm clock began to ring. It was on the desk, close by the professor.
“There is my reminder,” said the professor. “I always have it set when I intend to work late.”
He turned off the alarm.
“Now I know that it is getting late,” he said. “Also that it is time for me to take my pills. Where are they now? Marsh set them out for me — “
He spied a bottle under some papers. He uncorked it, and took three tiny white tablets.
“Medicine is a nuisance,” remarked Professor Whitburn. “Good night, Vincent.”