Well, look who\u27s here. Our new tenderfoot himself.  Abby eased gently into the big wine-colored chair. The man across the room scowled and fiddled with his hands and looked at the floor. Emmie sighed ever so slightly.  I told them we could handle this assignment ourselves.  The man muttered.  Well. This was an important case.  Abby sniffed delicately. Emmie put her hand up\u27 to her mouth and whispered,  It\u27s all right, Abby. They probably had to give him something to keep him busy. He won\u27t hurt anything.   Mustn\u27t have professional jealousy, you know,  the man added defensively

Gass, Jeanne

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THEY, INC.JEANNE GASS~~WELL, LOOK Who's here. Our newtenderfoot himself." Abby easedgently into the big wine-coloredchair.The man across the room scowled andfiddled with his hands and looked at thefloor.Emmie sighed ever so slightly. "I toldthem we could handle this assignmentourselves."The man muttered. "Well. This wasan important case."Abby sniffed delicately. Emmie puther hand up' to her mouth and whispered,"It's all right, Abby. They probably hadto give him sometiiinq to keep him busy.He won't hurt anything.""Mustn't have professional jealousy,you know," the man added defensively.A moment of silence passed. Then-"Nice place," Emmie said with an airygesture."Very nice." Abby tapped her footsilently on the floor. "I wish he'd hurry.We've got a midnight wedding, you know,Emmie. Some trouble about the bride'ssister.""When is Maxwell due?" the manquestioned."In three minutes and 45 secondsnow," Abby replied.Emmie had been flitting about admir-ing the room, passing her hand over thesmooth surface of a jade vase, and gentlypatting the luxurious velvet cushions intoplace."Very nice," she said happily, andperched on the arm of the davenport."It's really Jenkins' fault we're here,you know. This wasn't snpposed to happenat all." Abby spoke meaningfully. "Heforgot an assignment last week, and let thisChuck person run away from home.""Too bad." The man shook his headsympathetically."But Chuck will learn his lesson to-night." Emmie smiled in a consolingmanner."Well, here Maxwell comes," saidAbby.The three watched the library dooropen. Thurston Maxwell strode in. Mr.Maxwell always strode, even if he was onlystepping into his library for a cigarettebefore going to bed. He liked to think ofhimself as a stern man.He took an expensive jewelled casefrom his dressing-gown pocket and startedto seat himself in the wine-colored chair.Abby and Emmie and the man concentratedhard, and Mr. Maxwell changed his mindand took the green leather one instead.Abby nodded to the others. "I wouldhave hated to move," she said.Mr. Maxwell flicked his lighter twicebefore it worked. He blew a lazy smokering, and crossed his legs. He always likedto blow smoke rings when no one wasaround. He blew another, sighed a little,and looked at his watch. Eleven-fifteen.Guess I'd better get to bed before long, hethought to himself."He's wrong. Eleven-fourteen," Abbycommented."Hadn't we better start? It's abouttime. My record says eleven-twenty-two."The man was anxious and nervous."Wait a little," Emmie cautioned.Mr. Maxwell stood up and crushed thestub of his cigarette into a pewter ashtray.He ran his fingers through his thick hair,slightly greyed at the temples, and pickedup a copy of the current "best seller" from(7)an occasional table.. He tlIDmbed thr:oughit idly."Handsome, isn't he, Abby," Emmieobserved archly to Abby. "When is histime up?""Eighteen years and three months,"volunteered Abby."My, you certainly have all the data."The man spoke admiringly.Abby bridled coyly. "Experience," shesaid.During this time Mr. Maxwell hadwalked over to the bell-rope and summonedthe butler, who entered silently."Bring my tray at seven in the morn-ing, Stevens," Mr. Maxwell ordered. "Ihave a busy day tomorrow.""Yes, sir. Is that all, sir?""Eleven-seventeen and one half," an-nounced Abby. "Now concentrate."Mr. Maxwell stood silent."I say, is that all, sir?""Eh? Oh. Yes, Stevens. Yes.""Somebody isn't doing his best. Wecan't muff this job. Now concentrate·."Stevens, the butler, turned to leave.Abby and Emmie and the man con-centrated.Steven reached the door."I say, Stevens. Did you hear Mrs.Maxwell call?""Mrs. Maxwell? When, sir?""Then! Just then.""Uh. No, sir.""Well. Never mind. I must be imagin;ing things. Her room's too far away any-how.""Concentrate," Abby hissed."I swear, I heard it again! More likea scream. Stevens, I'm going up. Willyou come with me?""Yell, sir."Abby nodded to her confederate. insatisfaction.The two men raced across the spaciousfront hall and up the wide stairway, to thefirst floor, then the second, then the third.Puffing and perspiring, they rounded thelanding and ran down the hall to Mrs.Maxwell's door. It was unlocked. Theyburst in upon a strange scene. By the dimlight of the rose bed lamp they could seethe stiff and terrified figure of Mrs. Max-well sitting up in bed. Her well-manicuredhand clutched the novel she had beenreading. And the slender form of a manwas crouched over her holding a smallrevolver five inches from her heart.For a surprised moment the fourpeople remained motionless. Then toeveryone else's astonishment the slenderman flung himself down on the bed, sob-bing hysterically."I say, how peculiar," said Stevens, hiseyes bulging."Why, he's only a boy," Mr. Maxwellsaid wonderingly. "Laura, are you allright?""Oh, Thurston, I'm so glad you gothere in time. I nearly died. I simplynearly died. He must have climbed up thebig oak, and onto my balcony? I thoughtI'd die of fright. How on earth did youhear me? He demanded my jewels, andwhen I screamed he threatened me. Yes,he threatened me. Call the police, Stevens.Oh, somebody call the police. Thurston,I simply thought . . . ."Wait, Stevens. Let's take him downstairs," Mr. Maxwell said.Down in the library Abby and Emmieand the man nodded happily to each other."I wish they'd hurry. We haven'tmuch more time," Abby sighed."Here they come," said Emmie."So your name is Chuck, and you'refifteen years old. You don't look like oneof these robber chaps." Maxwell mused.Then remembered himself and becamestern. "But you threatened my wife. That'sa serious offense. It is true, isn't it? Youdid threaten to kill my wife?"(8)YOUNG GIRLS BY IVI,\RY CASSEn'John Herron Art MUSC10llPORTRAIT OF A LADY UY CHESTER HAHDINGJoh11 BeTTon A.Tt MnSPHlIIThe boy was calmer now, but his handsstill trembled. He lowered his head."Well, I didn't ... " he began."Answer ITIe. Yes or no!""Then yes!" The boy's eyes were sud-denly defiant."Then I have no choice but to turn youover to the police," Mr. Maxwell saidgravely.Abby and Emmie and the man werefrowning."And I thought he was all right,"Emmie said sadly."He's got a lot to learn in thoseeighteen years." Abby clucked her tongue."Well altogether now." They concentrated.Mr. Maxwell paused with the phonein his hand. He could see the dark fearbeneath the defiance in the boy's eyes. Hewatched his own hand slowly put the phoneback on the hook."Can you tell me about it, Chuck?" hewas surprised to hear himself say gently.The boy's chin quivered."I just wanted some money, mister.I hadda have money, I ran away fromhome. Last week. Ya see my mom ...Well, I said I wouldn't come back till I gotsome money. And you had plenty, mister.I wasn't gonna shoot your wife. But I gotscared. I kind a went to pieces, I guess,when she started screamin' ... " He clutch-ed Mr. Maxwell's sleeve. "Aw Mister.I'll do any thin' you say. But don't turnme over to the cops. Please. Please ... "Mr. Maxwell sat down."Well, I'll make you a proposition,Chuck. I need an odd-job boy around thegrounds .... " Now why did he say that'!He didn't need an odd-job boy around thegrounds at all. He watched the thin facelight up. There was something more.Oh yes."But first," he said sternly, "we've gotto have a talk about this thing tonight. Sitdown here. You may go, Stevens. You see,Chuck, society .... ""Well, that's taken care of," said Abbypeacefully. "We've got to leave. Youstay to get the final record," she said to theman. "They'll want to see it." He nodded.Abby and Emmie moved to the otherside of the room."They'll both be all right now," Emmiesmiled tenderly."Come Emmie. Don't dawdle. We'vejust time to straighten out that wedding,"said Abby.And together the two faded throughthe window and became a part of the night.GREEK AND LATIN IN COLLEGECURRICULAthat a liberal education should be predom-inantly linguistic and literary in character,"and "the rapidly changing social and intel-lectual conditions of the nineteenth centuryweakened this conception of a liberal edu-cation in the American college and gaverise to many innovations among which theelective system was perhaps most repre-sentative." A study of the historical back-JOHN E. RossONE OF The changes in college cur-ricula has been the lessening empha-sis upon the study of the classics inliterature and language. R. Freeman Buttsdiscusses the historical setting of thischange in his recent book The CollegeCharts Its Course. Mr. Butts places anemphasis upon two aspects of this conditionin education: "the origins of the traditions(9)

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