Marchare, and then make arrangements to talk to these people and see if you can negotiate some kind of profitable license. Marchare is pretty fully committed right now, and I don't think he has time to exploit this paper, even if it turns out to amount to something."

I looked at him, aghast that he should still be doubtful of the paper at this late stage of the game. He saw my look and said, "Oops, I mean this milestone in paper technology once it is announced to the world."

That seemed better, more to the point. I called Dr. Marchare and found that Mr. Spardleton was right, as usual. Dr. Marchare would welcome a beneficial licensing arrangement. I then called the Rude Associates on the phone; it seemed more expeditious than writing. I set up a meeting date as soon as possible, one week away.

The day before I left for Boston I checked in with Callahan to make certain all of our data were correct. We went over every aspect of the Tearproof Paper Case. I picked out a dozen good samples of the paper of varying composition and thickness and put them in my briefcase along with a copy of the patent application. I had decided that I might even show them a copy of the application if it might help show what a marvelous discovery we had made. Callahan and I shook hands solemnly, and he wished me the best of luck. I went back to my office for a final quick check, got interested in Zabell's book, and went home without my briefcase. There was no harm done. My plane did not leave until ten in the morning and I had planned to go back to the office anyway. I said good-by to Susan and Mr. Spardleton, retrieved my briefcase from over by the radiator where Susan had put it the night before, and caught the plane.

It was a cold damp day, and the threat of rain was in the air. In Boston I caught a cab for the Massachusetts Avenue laboratories of Rude Associates. Dr. Rude himself was at the meeting, along with half a dozen of his associates. Dr. Rude was a small man, dapper, totally unlike a research chemist, and his speech and manner were as impeccable as his dress. Only his hands were a giveaway; they were stained with yellow and black stains that looked completely out of place on the man. Dr. Rude opened the meeting with an explanation concerning the technician he had hired from the Marchare Laboratories two years earlier. "Just a week ago," said Dr. Rude, "we put him on a problem of paper chemistry. He told us that the properties we sought—and more—had already been found by your laboratory. He said no more, and we would not have allowed him to say any more, except that you 

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