already calling, “Dana, R. T.” Hugh sank back in his chair; he was trembling.
Kane announced the text-book, and when Hugh caught the word “trigonometry” he actually thrilled with joy. He had had trig in high school. Whoops! Would he hit Math I in the eye? He’d knock it for a goal. . . . Then conscience spoke. Ought n’t he to tell Kane that he had al¬ ready had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood his high-school creden¬ tials, which had given him credit for “advanced mathematics.” Kane had taken it for granted that that was advanced algebra. Hugh felt that he ought to explain the mistake, but fear of the arid, impersonal man restrained him. Kane had told him to take Math I; and Kane was law.
Unlike most of Hugh’s instructors, Kane kept the class the full hour the first day, seating them in alphabetical order—he had to repeat the per¬ formance three times during the week as new men entered the class—lecturing them on the need of do¬ ing their problems carefully and accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonom¬ etry in particular, in the study of science and engi¬ neering. Hugh was not interested in science, en¬ gineering, or mathematics, but he listened carefully, trying hard to follow Kane’s cold discourse. At the end of the hour he told his neighbor as they left the room that he guessed that Professor Kane
