CHAPTER XII
TESTS
"I suppose now we'll all get blown up, or poisoned, or something," Billsaid to Tony, after telling of the eclipse of Luigi Malatesta.
"Oh, no; the Malatesta are foemen worthy of our steel, to agree by anEnglish poet; is it not?"
"'Foeman worthy of a steal,' I guess you mean," laughed Gus.
"Yes, that's more like it. I wouldn't trust that pig-faced villainacross a ten-acre lot with a ten-cent piece!" declared Bill.
"The soul of honor doesn't dwell in a husky guy who'd strike a cripple,"said Gus. "And I bet a cow he's going to stir up more trouble aroundhere before he quits maneuvering."
Tony made no reply, but stood for a long time, gazing at the floor.Presently only the sound of tools and machines was heard in the shop.
It is not probable that Luigi told of the precise outcome of his clashwith Bill and Gus, though he may have said enough to influence sophomoresentiment against Bill's standing in the school. At any rate, thefeeling grew in strength and spread until it became a subject of commentamong freshmen and seniors who were inclined to sympathize with thebrainy and keen-witted lame boy. At least he had many friends, both highand low, and most of the teachers admired him openly.
So far the sentiment had been rather more doubtful and erratic thandetermined. There had been nothing to warrant the assumption that Billthought himself more intelligent than the sophomores, or members of hisown class. His radio knowledge was somewhat a thing apart and in that heshared with the less obtrusive Gus.
And then the lightning struck, suddenly and hard. Once each week anoutsider from the engineering department of some big industrial plant,or large university, lectured to the entire student body of theMarshallton Tech in the assembly-room, and there were some of thesetalkers who got much pleasure out of it. Not only was it interesting tohold forth to a lot of eager, responsive boys on subjects that elicitedtheir curiosity, as the building of great dams and bridges, thetunneling under mountains, the erection of mighty machines, but it wasalso diverting to hear their various comments which also led to acomparative estimate of their understanding.
Davidson, chief mechanical engineer of a great mill buildingcorporation, was especially interested in the personal equationconcerning the students, particularly after Bill Brown bad asked him alot of questions, some of which he had replied to rather lamely. Evenmore as a matter of getting back at this young investigator who sat witha crutch held before him and regarded these replies with a smile thanfor the desire to measure minds, Davidson gathered a few catch problemsthat were stumpers, and upon his third visit, after talking awhile heswitched off on the subject of problems, short cuts to solutions andthen put a question, looking hard at Bill, as though uttering achallenge.
"Now, how would you go about it," he shot at his audience, "if you wereasked to measure the cubic contents of an electric light bulb?"
A number of smiles greeted the question; these may have been from ladsmostly in the advanced courses who knew the trick. The lecturer askedfor hands to be raised by those who thought they could do it, and notingwith satisfaction that the crippled boy was not among the number whoresponded, he began hearing them, one at a time.
"Measure it outside and allow for the thickness of the glass," said onefellow.
"But how about the carbon inside?" asked Davidson.
"Break the glass and measure the loop," called out a soph.
"How many of you would go at it in that way?"
A number of hands went up, some rather reluctantly, as though theirowners scented a trick.
Davidson still eyed the cripple. "How would you do it?" he asked.
Bill shook his head and said, "It is that old trick of Edison's and it'sdead easy. I guess a good many of our fellows know about it. You simplypunch a hole in the bulb, fill it with water, pour it back and measurethe water."
"Yes; that's right. It is really the only sure way," said the man, hismanner showing disappointment.
"Oh, no; it isn't, begging your pardon. Oh, no, not the only way," saidBill.
"Well, now, how else----"
"Put water in a graduated glass, stick the bulb in up to the plasterseal and note the increase. Then break the glass and the carbon and putthat in separately, deducting the last amount from the first."
Davidson scratched his head. "Yes; that would do it, of course, too,but----"
"But you said the other was the only way," insisted Bill.
"Oh, well, the only quick and sure way. Of course, there are othermethods."
"I'm sorry to have to disagree with you, but my method is just as sureand quicker."
"It might do--it might do! You seem to be ready with short cuts inmechanics. How would you quickly divide a board seventeen andthree-eighths inches wide into five equal parts? Can anyone here do it?"
"That's easy," said Bill.
"Well, then, how about this one? If a pint cup----"
"Your question about dividing the board is too interesting to pass overso hastily," interrupted Professor Search. "If you will pardon me, Iwould suggest that Brown go to the board and demonstrate it."
"Will you let Grier do it? He knows that old trick, and he is handierwith the chalk than I."
Gus went forward, took a two-foot rule from his pocket and laying offtwo parallel lines seventeen and three-eighths inches apart, laid therule diagonally across them so that the space would measure twentyinches. Then he ticked off at the figures four, eight, twelve andsixteen. Laying the rule straight across from an outer line to the firsttick he turned and announced:
"Each space is practically three and fifteen-thirty-seconds inches."
This brought forth something like applause, along with many very audibleremarks, such as: "Pretty cute." "Handy." "Where'd he get it?" "Can'tfool either of 'em, can you?" "Those fellows are practical, that'ssure."
Mr. Davidson smiled sort of absently. He had to give approval, butdropped the question rather abruptly, going back to his last problem.
"Now, see if you can tell me this: I have a half-pint cup even full ofwater, the liquid exactly level with the edge of the glass. About howmany one-inch brads must I drop into the cup before the water overflows?Water, you understand--not oil, nor molasses. This is an old experimentand it concerns a well-known physical law. If anyone has seen it done hewill kindly remain silent. Now, who will make a guess as to the numberof nails?"
Every brow was wrinkled, except those of a few conclusion jumpers ofwhom there must be some in every crowd. One of these latter fellowsshouted at once: "About a half dozen and it'll slop over!"
"It'll take only one or two," said another.
"Not more than a dozen, anyway."
But the others, mostly lads capable of real mental exercise, were allcudgeling their brains. It was a subject which had much to be taken intoconsideration. Presently one senior spoke up:
"It ought to take more than an ounce of them."
"Nearly as much, anyway."
"More. That'll fool you mightily."
"It looks as though a few brads would do it, but it will take a lot."
"And why?" asked Mr. Davidson. "Come, what do you say about this?" Heagain appealed to Bill, turning then also to Gus.
"Well, sir, I think I can see that it will take nearly all of that boxof brads, perhaps a hundred. It is a matter of cohesion and even waterpossesses that, so that to overflow, it will have to rise a good dealabove the rim. The area of the glass plus the rise that will be requiredfor the overflow will be, in solid contents, easily as much as that boxof loosely filled brads; if they were melted down they wouldn't begreater than the water area. It is a good deal like the loading of aboat: the displacement is a uniform, compact mass; the load is a jumblewith more air space than material. And it is like the floating of aheavy iron pot."
For answer the lecturer turned and drew a half-pint of water in a glass,brought from his pocket a box of brads and began dropping, one at
a timeand counting, them into the water. There was profound silence. As thenumber increased, reaching above two score of the small nails, therebegan to be heard comments here and there.
"Zowie! Who'd a thunk it?"
"Better just dump 'em all in and start over."
"Don't reckon those nails are soaking the water up; eh?"
"If it were molasses you could fill it half full of brads before itwould slop over."
"Say, look, he's up to sixty! Would you believe that?"
"Hey there, Fatty, you guessed one nail; didn't you----"
"Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy; looks to me like a spill prettysoon."
"When the freshet starts----"
"It'll drown a lot of people."
Mr. Davidson stopped dropping the nails into the tumbler and held up hishand.
"There it goes, boys--the first drop over! Eighty-two brads. You can seewho guessed best. The cohesion of the liquid explains it, as our youngfriend here has said. I'm glad you have one thinker among you. Now Iwant to tell you something about the installation of machinery byindividual motors driven by a central generator, as compared to thedrive from a mill long countershaft and pulleys." And he proceeded withhis talk.
Yes, the lightning had struck. From this moment the respect shown toBill, and to Gus also, by those who had no desire to do otherwise wasreally almost overdone, his classmates being generally proud of him, andthe teachers and seniors pleased to have him a member of the school. Butthe sophs mostly grew more inclined to consider both boys a menace totheir peace of mind.