“That’s easy,” said Bill.
“Well, then, how about this one? If a pint cup——”
“Your question about dividing the board is too interesting to pass over so hastily,” interrupted Professor Search. “If you will pardon me, I would suggest that Brown go to the board and demonstrate it.”
“Will you let Grier do it? He knows that old trick, and he is handier with the chalk than I.”
Gus went forward, took a two-foot rule from his pocket and laying off two parallel lines seventeen and three-eighths inches apart, laid the rule diagonally across them so that the space would measure twenty inches. Then he ticked off at the figures four, eight, twelve and sixteen. Laying the rule straight across from an outer line to the first tick he turned and announced:
“Each space is practically three and fifteen-thirty-seconds inches.”
This brought forth something like applause, along with many very audible remarks, such as: “Pretty cute.” “Handy.” “Where’d he get it?” “Can’t fool either of ’em, can you?” “Those fellows are practical, that’s sure.”
Mr. Davidson smiled sort of absently. He had to give approval, but dropped the question rather abruptly, going back to his last problem.
“Now, see if you can tell me this: I have a half-pint cup even full of water, the liquid exactly level with the edge of the glass. About how many one-inch brads must I drop into the cup before the water overflows? Water, you understand—not oil, nor molasses. This is an old experiment and it concerns a well-known physical law. If anyone has seen it done he will kindly remain silent. Now, who will make a guess as to the number of nails?”
Every brow was wrinkled, except those of a few conclusion jumpers of whom there must be some in every crowd. One of these latter fellows shouted at once: “About a half dozen and it’ll slop over!”