s tone not
calculated to encourage rhapsody. The old gentleman's gurgle changed to
a note of practical helpfulness.

"You wish to bathe, I see. I will not detain you. Our sylvan bathroom
you will find just down the trail and behind those alders. Pray take
your time. You will be quite undisturbed."

With another dry "Thank you," the professor passed on. He was limping
slightly, otherwise he would have passed on much faster. His instinct
was to seek cover before giving vent to the emotion which consumed him.

Behind the alders, and taking the precaution of stuffing his mouth with
a towel, he could release this rising gust of almost hysterical
laughter.

That was Dr. Herbert Farr! The fulfilled vision of the learned scholar
he had come so far to see capped with nicety the climax of this absurd
adventure. What an utter fool, what an unbelievable idiot he had made
of himself! For the moment he saw clear and all normal reactions proved
inadequate. There was left only laughter.

When this was over he felt better. Withdrawing the towel and wiping the
tears of strangled mirth from his eyes he looked around him. The sylvan
bathroom was indeed a charming place. Great rocks, all smooth and brown
with velvet moss, curved gently down to form a basin into which fell
the water from the tiny stream whose musical flowing had called to him
through his window. Around, and somewhat back beneath tall sentinel
trees, crept the bushes and bracken of the mountain; but, above, the
foliage opened and the sun shone in, turning the brown-green water of
the pool to gold. With a sigh of pure delight the laughter-weary
professor stepped into its cool brightness--and with a gasp of
something very different, stepped quickly out again. But, quick as he
was, the liquid ice of that green-gold pool was quicker. It ran through
his tortured nerve like mounting fire--"Oh--oh--damn!" said the
professor heartily.

The sweat stood out on his forehead before he had rubbed and warmed the
outraged limb into some semblance of quietude again. The pool seemed no
longer lovely. Very gingerly he completed such ablutions as were
strictly necessary and then, very cold, very stiff and very, very empty
he turned back toward the house.

This time, instead of passing through the small vegetable garden behind
the kitchen, he skirted the clearing, coming out into the wide, open
space in front of the cottage. On one side of him, and behind, spread
the mountain woods but