years at least to grind the lens,
there will be time enough, when the lens is nearing completion, to look
after the accessories. We have picked our site, however--Lake
Geneva--and we would not refuse either land or accessories if we knew
where to get them."

Again the even, shining teeth, the keen eyes boring through the glasses.

Cowperwood saw a great opportunity. He asked what would be the cost of
the entire project. Dr. Hooper presumed that three hundred thousand
would do it all handsomely--lens, telescope, land, machinery,
building--a great monument.

"And how much have you guaranteed on the cost of your lens?" "Sixteen
thousand dollars, so far."

"To be paid when?"

"In instalments--ten thousand a year for four years. Just enough to
keep the lens-maker busy for the present."

Cowperwood reflected. Ten thousand a year for four years would be a
mere salary item, and at the end of that time he felt sure that he
could supply the remainder of the money quite easily. He would be so
much richer; his plans would be so much more mature. On such a repute
(the ability to give a three-hundred-thousand-dollar telescope out of
hand to be known as the Cowperwood telescope) he could undoubtedly
raise money in London, New York, and elsewhere for his Chicago
enterprise. The whole world would know him in a day. He paused, his
enigmatic eyes revealing nothing of the splendid vision that danced
before them. At last! At last!

"How would it do, Mr. Hooper," he said, sweetly, "if, instead of ten
men giving you four thousand each, as you plan, one man were to give
you forty thousand in annual instalments of ten thousand each? Could
that be arranged as well?"

"My dear Mr. Cowperwood," exclaimed the doctor, glowing, his eyes
alight, "do I understand that you personally might wish to give the
money for this lens?"

"I might, yes. But I should have to exact one pledge, Mr. Hooper, if I
did any such thing."

"And what would that be?"

"The privilege of giving the land and the building--the whole
telescope, in fact. I presume no word of this will be given out unless
the matter is favorably acted upon?" he added, cautiously and
diplomatically.

The new president of the university arose and eyed him with a
peculiarly approbative and grateful gaze. He was a busy, overworked
man. His task was large. Any burden taken from his shoulders in this
fashion was a great relief.

"My answer to that, Mr. Cowperwood, if I ha