earlier, to his classmates in college.

As Chester went in at the door a figure arose slowly from its
position - flung full length, face downward, on a couch in the
shadowy inner office and came into view.

"Toothache? Dentist down the street," said a blurred voice
unsympathetically.

Chester laughed. "Oh, come, Red," said he. "Give me some of
that headache dope. I'm all out."

"Glad to hear it. You don't get any more from me."

"Why not? I've got a sure-enough headache - I didn't come
over to quiz you. The blamed thing whizzes like a buzz saw."

"Can't help it. Go soak it."

Chester advanced. "I'll get the powders myself, then. I know
the bottle."

A substantial barrier interposed. "No, you don't. You've
taken up six ounces of that stuff do seven days. You quit
to-night."

"Look here, Red, what's the use of taking it out on me like
that, if you are mad at something? If your head - "

"I wish it did ache - like ten thousand furies. It might take