Madsavage 1

Dr. Palmer Beasley, chairman of the English department at Rainey College, paced the floor and scowled at his watch. The students assembled for their fall term final exam fidgeted in their chairs and kept their thoughts to themselves. Beasley finally sighed. "Well, it seems as if Dr. Madsavage has let us all down once again, so I will carry on in his absence." He made a mental note to really let Madsavage have it this time, the full force of his wrath. It was bad enough the man was lazy, dressed like an Arabian trader's cart and was forever doing his utmost to undermine Beasley's authority. This was dereliction of duty, outright insubordination. And President Warner could scarsely overlook that, friend of the family or no.

Beasley was opening his mouth to begin when there was a crash from the door and a roiling cloud of cigarette smoke billowed into the room. Madsavage. The man would smoke a chimney if he could get his mouth around it.

"Sorry, lads and lasses," Madsavage said and bustled to the head of the classroom. "A busload of sorority girls followed me home last night, and I got lost this morning finding my way to the top of the pile."

The laughter set Beasley's teeth on edge. He dared not open his mouth at that point; his rage was too intense. No telling what the students might say to their parents next trip home. Best to save it for later. He was already relishing the phone call to President Warner.

"Morning, Mr. B.," Madsavage said and plopped down on the edge of his desk where he rummaged an egg sandwich from the right pocket of his overcoat. He took a bite and fished around in the other pocket until he found the scrap of paper he needed.

"Right," he said, reading around a mouthful of egg. "Wait, these aren't the exam quations." He held the paper out to Beasley. "This must be the list of telephone numbers you asked me to get from the girls last night, Mr. B."

More laughter and Madsavage winked. "Third one on the list, Mr. B. You won't be disappointed."