Digital heart book

"Do?" he cried, with glittering eyes. "Buy for all I
was worth!"
"Would that be a safe, conservative business?" I
inquired, as innocent as a lamb.
He looked daggers at me. "See that sandy-haired man in
glasses?" he asked, as if to change the subject.
"That's Billson, our most prominent undergraduate. We
build confidently on Billson's future. You could not
do better, Dodd, than follow Billson."
Presently after, in the midst of a still growing
tumult, the figures coming and going more busily than
ever on the board, and the hall resounding like
Pandemonium with the howls of operators, the assistant
teacher left me to my own resources at my desk. The
next boy was posting up his ledger, figuring his
morning's loss, as I discovered later on; and from this
ungenial task he was readily diverted by the sight of a
new face.
"Say, Freshman," he said, "what's your name? What? Son
of Big Head Dodd? What's your figure? Ten thousand? O,
you're away up! What a soft-headed clam you must be to
touch your books!"
I asked him what else I could do, since the books were
to be examined once a month.


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