"It isn't blackmail to tell a man that a bomb he's going to throw will
blow up in his hand." Chalmers glanced quickly at his watch. "Now,
Doctor Whitburn, if you have nothing further to discuss, I have a
class in a few minutes. If you'll excuse me...."

He rose. For a moment, he stood facing Whitburn; when the college
president said nothing, he inclined his head politely and turned,
going out.

Whitburn's secretary gave the impression of having seated herself
hastily at her desk the second before he opened the door. She watched
him, round-eyed, as he went out into the hall.

He reached his own office ten minutes before time for the next class.
Marjorie was typing something for Pottgeiter; he merely nodded to her,
and picked up the phone. The call would have to go through the school
exchange, and he had a suspicion that Whitburn kept a check on outside
calls. That might not hurt any, he thought, dialing a number.

"Attorney Weill's office," the girl who answered said.

"Edward Chalmers. Is Mr. Weill in?"

She'd find out. He was; he answered in a few seconds.

"Hello, Stanly; Ed Chalmers. I think I'm going to need a little help.
I'm having some trouble with President Whitburn, here at the college.
A matter involving the validity of my tenure-contract. I don't want to
go into it over this line. Have you anything on for lunch?"