The Non-Statistical Man Read Online Free PDF

in what he was doing. He acted more like a ready-to-be-retired college professor.
    College professor.
    A small trickle of cold started on the back of Bascomb’s neck and moved slowly up to the base of his skull. There was no doubt about it. There was only one place Magruder could have learned a delivery like that: on a college lecture platform.
    He sat back during the rest of the discourse, alternately congratulating himself on his astuteness in seeing through Magruder’s deception and berating himself for being so impulsive. No self-respecting professor would ever stoop to such jargon.
    At the end of the period, there was a question and answer session. Well-dressed matrons held up their hands without a qualm and asked items like: “If one’s corporeal vibrations are out of phase with the ethereal stream, can they be brought back merely through use of exercise Four—or must the medication be relied on also to accomplish this effect?” "
    Magruder seemed pleased, as if the ladies were really getting his message.
    Then, after a dozen of these, Bascomb stood up. “I’d like to ask,” he said slowly, “how the reorganization of one’s corporeal vibrations affects his need of life insurance —or of any other kind, for that matter.”
    There was a small titter from somewhere behind him, as if such prosaic matters were beneath consideration in the same breath with corporeal vibrations. But from Magruder there was a sudden, dead stillness. Then he removed his spectacles, wiped them carefully, and peered down at Bascomb as if wanting to fix him indelibly in mind.
    “Your question is a little advanced for our present discussion,” Magruder finally answered in precise tones; “but for your information I may say that insurance is an excellent form of purchase when one has need of it Otherwise, it is a waste of funds.”
    Bascomb nodded profoundly in agreement. “Yes, I would say that it is,” he said. “I have another question: would you say that one with properly-phased corporeal vibrations would be likely to spend much time watching television?”
    Again Magruder did a faint double-take and peered at Bascomb. “Your question is almost irrelevant,” he said, “But not entirely. As with most instruments of mass communication, television finds man in the astonishing position of having vast resources for exchange of intelligence, but no intelligence to exchange. Until this situation is corrected I would say the answer to your inquiry is no.”
    “One more,” said Bascomb. “Would you say that such a person would be unyielding to the ordinary advertising appeal?”
    “The same answer as to your previous question,” said Magruder, “and for essentially the same reason. Now, if we may continue—”
    On Monday, without telling anyone—including Sarah —of his intentions, Bascomb hired a firm of private investigators. Within twenty-four hours he had the information he sought. Magruder was indeed a fake; he was actually Emeritus Professor Magruder of Bay City College, a small institution in southern California. He had been head of the psychology department there and had retired two years ago at the age of sixty-five.
    B as comb took the information over the phone and promised to send a check to the investigating firm for their services. He hung up, without being aware of having done so, and continued to stare at the facts he had written down. A nightmare parade seemed to be assembling in the far depths of his mind and was already beginning its march along the channels of his cortex.
    "Both John and I felt this was the time to take out a policy —you never know when you might need it.”
    But they knew!
    "There's something in this that could mean a great deal to our future, Charles." That was Sarah. Did she have any inkling of how much it could mean?
    "It was reported that Donny Tompkins won the twelve year olds’ slingshot event by putting a rock through a twenty-one inch screen from a distance of one hundred and