We’ve gotten to know a guy named Fred, who is trying to learn about bookscouting. He frequents thrift stores, buys books he thinks might be worth something, and brings them in to see if he’s hit on any. Fred is also what we in the trade call a bibliochondriac. He thinks there’s something wrong with his books. “Smell this one,” he’ll say, or “Why are the edges of the paper browned?” Yesterday he thought a book he had was foxed — foxing is brown spots in paper caused by metal fragments in the paper pulp. I explained to him that it wasn’t foxing and showed him what foxing looks like. “So this isn’t foxing,” I said, “this is Ebola virus.” I think he believed me given the speed at which he left the store.