'm returning your check."

"Well now, look!" Browne said. "We're a business establishment. You
signed a contract. We signed one too. It protects both of us against
just this sort of thing, you know." He studied Martin thoughtfully. "Sit
down and relax," he invited. "I'm human. Tell me why you don't want it
published. Maybe I might agree with you. We have over a thousand dollars
tied up already in typesetting, but--"

Martin took the seat and glanced nervously at his watch to make sure the
twenty-seven minutes hadn't elapsed.

"I've just changed my mind," he said curtly. "There are certain
things--I'm the head of a department, you know. I must watch my
reputation. That's it, my reputation. On due reflection I believe the
book might hurt my standing."

"In what way?" Browne asked. "To tell you the truth, your other book
did so well I didn't bother reading this one."

"There's a--" Martin brought himself up short. So Browne hadn't read it.
So much the better. At least he wouldn't vanish. "I'm afraid," he added
with a self-conscious chuckle that he hoped was genuine enough to pass,
"the subject matter is a little too crackpottish in spots. That's the
whole thing. It would reflect on my reputation."

"Maybe we could do a little editing on it," Browne said. "Cut out the
parts you think crackpottish and substitute something else in those
pages. I'll get the galleys and we can look at them."

"No!" Martin said. "No, I'm afraid we would have to cut out at least
half of the book. No. The best thing is to forget it, but I'll make good
your typesetting loss. I can pay you two hundred dollars right away and
fifty dollars a month."

Browne lit a cigarette slowly, his eyes on Martin. "You're serious,
aren't you," he said. "I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll let the whole
thing ride for the present. Maybe later--"

"No!" Martin said. "It must never be published! It's very vital that it
never be published."

"Okay," Browne said. "We won't publish it. We have the contract, but--we
won't publish it."

"Thanks, very much," Martin said. "I must hurry back."

The publisher stared thoughtfully at the closed door after Martin had
gone. He glanced down at the check.

* * * * *

Lecture room 304 was very large, capable of holding four hundred
students in its successive tiers of seats, plus the teacher on his
raised platform immediately in front of the large blackboard. In
previous years there had