"Then why are you here, you young imp?"
"Thought you might be lonesome."
"I'll bet you did! But seriously, Pat, what is it? Any trouble?"
"No-o," she said dubiously. "No trouble. I just wanted to ask you a few hypothetical questions. About science."
"Go to it, then, and quickly. I was ready to turn in."
"Well," said Pat, "about Nick's father. He was a doctor, you said, and supposed to be cracked. Was he really?"
"Humph! That's curious. I just looked up a brochure of his tonight in the American Medical Journal, after our conversation of this afternoon. Why do you ask that?"
"Because I'm interested, of course."
"Well, here's what I remember about him, Pat. He was an M.D., all right, but I see by his paper there—the one I was reading—that he was on the staff of Northern U. He did some work at the Cook County Asylum, some research work, and there was a bit of talk about his maltreating the patients. Then, on top of that, he published a paper that medical men considered crazy, and that started talk of his sanity. That's all I know."
"Then Nick—."