opened--"I certainly hope that you can realize that there was nothing
but the most purely coincidental connection between the event featured
in this morning's newspapers and your performance, a month ago, in
Modern History Four," he began.

"I realize nothing of the sort. The death of Khalid ib'n Hussein is a
fact of history, unalterably set in its proper place in time-sequence.
It was a fact of history a month ago no less than today."

"So that's going to be your attitude; that your wild utterances of a
month ago have now been vindicated as fulfilled prophesies? And I
suppose you intend to exploit this--this coincidence--to the utmost.
The involvement of Blanley College in a mess of sensational publicity
means nothing to you, I presume."

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

"You mean to tell me that you didn't give this story to the local
newspaper, the _Valley Times_?" Whitburn demanded.

"I did not. I haven't mentioned the subject to anybody connected with
the _Times_, or anybody else, for that matter. Except my attorney, a
month ago, when you were threatening to repudiate the contract you
signed with me."

"I suppose I'm expected to take your word for that?"

"Yes, you are. Unless you care to call me a liar in so many words." He
moved a step closer. Lloyd Whitburn outweighed him by fifty pounds,
but most of the difference was fat. Whitburn must have realized that,