ank
thrust himself into such perils as you may encounter on that search."

"Hold on, professor!" cried Frank. "Just wait and----"

Scotch waved his hand.

"The time has come for me to assert my authority," he said, sternly;
"and I propose to assert it."

"You will not let me go?"

"No, sir!"

"All right. You'll be sorry, professor."

"That sounds like a threat, young man. Don't threaten me. This search
looks like a wild-goose chase. How do you propose to reach this retreat
of the Danites?" he asked, turning to Clyde.

"By cruising down the river in a strong boat which I have bought and
provisioned for the trip."

"And did you boys think of going alone?"

"Oh no."

"Who was going with you?"

"Two explorers."

"Their names."

"Colton Graves and Caleb Kerney."

"What do you know about them?"

"Nothing, except that they wish to take a cruise through the canyons."

"Young man," said the professor, "let me give you a bit of advice."

But before he could do so there came a sharp knock on the door.

CHAPTER XV.

PROFESSOR SEPTEMAS SCUDMORE.

The door opened with a quick, jerky movement immediately after the
knock, and, without waiting to be invited to enter, a tall, angular,
thin-legged, knock-kneed man walked into the room with a peculiar
movement that seemed to indicate that his legs were in danger of
breaking at every step.

This man had a very long, thin neck, on which was set a long, narrow
head, crowned with an out-of-date silk hat. He wore a suit of rusty
black, a flaring high collar, that was sadly wilted and lay out over the
collar of his coat, and a black string necktie, which was tied in a
careless knot. His face was shaven smooth, and a pair of gold-bowed
spectacles clung convulsively to the end of a long, thin nose.

"Excuse me," he said, in a high-pitched, cracked tin-pan sort of voice.
"I seek a fellow laborer in the field of science. You know the Good Book
says: 'Seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you.' I
knocked--didn't stop for it to be opened--am in a hurry. Ahem!
You"--pointing a long, slim finger at Scotch--"you must be the one I
seek."

The little professor looked startled.

"What have I ever done to you?" he asked, hesitatingly.

"Not anything, my dear sir, but I believe you are Professor Scotch, are
you not?"

"That is right; but I do not know you, sir."

"I am Professor Septemas Scudmore, of Pudville Classical Institute, in
the State