rhaps,"
with rising dismay, "there isn't any breakfast to wake them for!"

He felt suddenly ravenous and hurried into his clothes. It is really
wonderful how all kinds of problems give place to the need for a wash
and breakfast. Somewhere outside he could hear water running, so with a
towel over his arm and a piece of soap in his pocket he started out to
find it. His room, as he had noted the night before, was one of two
small rooms under the eaves. There was a small, dark landing between
them and a steep, ladderlike stair led directly down into the
living-room. There was no one there; neither was there anyone in the
small kitchen at the back. Benis Spence decided that this second room
was a kitchen because it contained a cooking stove. Otherwise he would
not have recognized it, Aunt Caroline's idea of a kitchen being quite
otherwise. Someone had been having breakfast on a corner of the table
and a fire crackled in the stove. Window and door were open, and leafy,
ferny odors mingled with the smell of burning cedar. The combined scent
was very pleasant, but the professor could have wished that the bouquet
of coffee and fried bacon had been included. He was quite painfully
hungry.

Through the open door the voice of falling water still called to him
but of other and more human voices there were none. Well, he could at
least wash. With a shrug he turned away from the half cleared table
and, in the doorway, almost ran into the arms of a little, old man in a
frock coat and a large umbrella. There were other items of attire, but
they did not seem to matter.

"My dear sir," said the little, old man, in a gentle, gurgling voice.
"Let me make you welcome--very, very welcome!"

"Thank you," said the professor.

There were other things that he might have said, but they did not seem
to suggest themselves. All the smooth and biting sentences which his
mind had held in readiness for this moment faded and died before the
stunning knowledge of their own inadequacy. Surprise, pure and simple,
stamped them down.

"Unpardonable, my not being at home to receive you," went on this
amazing old gentleman. "But the exact time of your coming was somewhat
indefinite. Still, I am displeased with myself, much displeased. You
slept well, I trust?"

The professor was understood to say that he had slept well.

Dr. Farr sighed. "Youth!" he murmured, waving his umbrella. "Oh, youth!"

"Quite so," said the professor. There was a dryness in hi