pausing from time to time to dip
into the cheese. "You begin by looking at it from the point of view of
the mosquito. A mosquito has got nerves, hasn't he, just like a horse or
a cat or a bullfrog?"

"Sure he has."

"What frightens a mosquito most?"

"Is it a joke?" said Snorky thoughtfully.

"Green--"

"I apologize," said Snorky hastily, and he brought out a bottle of
sarsaparilla.

"A horse shies at a bit of paper; a sneeze will scare a cat, won't it?
Well, then, what will scare a mosquito--it's all there!"

"Well, what _will_ scare a mosquito?" said Snorky, wide-eyed.

"That is the field of investigation," said Skippy in a melancholy voice.

"But you said Mosquito-Proof Socks!"

"I did. Suppose a harsh sound annoys a mosquito; all you've got to do is
to suspend a tiny rusty bell--"

"I don't like that," said Snorky instantly.

"Why not?"

"It doesn't sound modest--"

"That is probably not the way," said Skippy, dismissing this objection
with a wave of his hand. "I'm thorough, that's all. Supposing there are
certain colors that scare him or make him seasick--red and purple or
yellow and violet."

"By jingo! Now you're talking."

"Suppose the mosquito has some deadly enemy. Then all you've got to do
is to work his picture into the design of the socks."

"Holy cats!"

"Supposin' it's just the sense of smell you get him by--"

"Citronella!" fairly shouted Snorky.

"Hush!" said Skippy, alarmed at the outbreak.

"Citronella!" said Snorky in a whisper.

"You see? Mosquito-Proof Socks is the idea--and there must be fifty ways
of working it out."

"Cheese it!" said Snorky, dousing the light at a sound in the hall.

* * * * *

At a point somewhere between the witching hour and the dawn Snorky said
in a tentative whisper:

"Hey there, Skippy! Are you awake?"

"What is it?"

"Gosh! Skippy, I can't sleep. It's just steaming around in my brain!"

"M. P. S.?"

"You bet. I can't see anything but them, millions of them!"

"Mosquitoes?"

"No--legs! Holy Jemima! Skippy, have you thought how many legs there are
in the world? Why, in the United States alone twice ninety-two million.
Think of it! And what'll they average in socks and stockings? I've been
trying to work it out all night. Gee! My head's just cracking. If you
multiply twice ninety-two million by seven pair of socks or even six--"

"Don't!" said Skippy angrily, and he thought to himself, "Thinking of