Sims was afraid of him.
"Now, I tell you," he went on. "We'll just make a break
in and then a quick get-away. Don't let's get anchored
in there, see? If the old fellow gets talking, he'll go
on for ever. I remember the way it used to be when a
fellow had to go in to see Prexy in my time. The old guy
would start mooning away and quoting Latin and keep us
there half the morning."
At this moment two shabby-looking, insignificant men who
had evidently come out from one of the buildings, passed
us on the sidewalk.
"I wonder who those guys are," said Mr. Sims. "Look like
bums, don't they?"
I shook my head. Some instinct told me that they were
professors. But I didn't say so.
My friend continued his instructions.
"When the President asks us to lunch," he said, "I'll
say that we're lunching with a friend down town, see?
Then we'll make a break and get out. If he says he wants
to introduce us to the Faculty or anything like that,
then you say that we have to get the twelve-thirty to
New York, see? I'm not going to say anything about a
chair in philosophy to-day. I want to read it up first
some night so as to be able to talk about it."
To all of this I agreed.
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