Richard Ashby

“ Ed Wilkes riffled through the specification booklet. "Lump this for me, huh?"
"Right. But first you tell me something, chum. Why should you, an M.I.T. honor grad—a laddie with more degrees than the Kremlin has Reds—bury yourself down here in the mouldering South, presiding angel over the destiny of an insignificant little college?"
He waved his hand in an encompassing gesture that pointed up the stained lab table, the cracks in the wall and ceiling, the general air of save and make do that characterized the entire campus. "Insignificant and crumbling even when Lincoln was president." ”

“ I've got to catch a plane out of here in an hour. Enjoyed talking with you, Doctor Mosby. We'll get together again." He nodded his thanks. "And you, Ed? Are you in on this nozzle project?"
"Don't know." Ed Wilkes regarded Julie's eagerness. "Let's leave it up to you, Julie. I'll be a big thing for the school. You see, Pete, the place is only partly State supported—Julie's family has been making up most of the balance for years—and they must be weary of it. I don't like the idea of bigger and better weapons—you both know me that well—but I guess I hate what's with Europe and Asia even worse." ”

“ Chuckling, Ed Wilkes put a soothing hand on the other's arm. "Hang on, Pete—simmer down. I told you we could use Julie. You see, weapons are her hobby. Check the library lists sometime. You'll find a sweet work there of hers dealing with every persuader from cross-bow to tommy gun." ”