eelings
that need to be considered. I should like to know, though," she
continued with some warmth of interest, "if you really came just to
observe Indians. Father might think of a variety of attractions.
Health?--any-thing from gout to tuberculosis. Fish?--father can talk
about fish until you actually see them leaping. Shooting?--according to
father, all the animals of the ark abound in these mountains.
Curios?--father has an Indian mound somewhere which he always keeps
well stocked."

Professor Spence smiled. "So many activities," he said, "should bring
better results."

"They are too well known. Most people make some inquiry." The faint
emphasis on the "most" made the professor feel uncomfortable. Was it
possible that this young girl considered him, Benis Spence, something
of a fool? He dismissed the idea as unlikely.

"Inquiry in my case would have meant delay," he answered frankly, "and
I was in a hurry. I wanted to get away from--I wanted to get away for
rest and study in a congenial environment. Still, I will admit that I
might not have inquired in any case. I am accustomed to trust to my
instinct. My father was a very far-sighted man--what are you laughing
at?"

"Nothing. Only it sounded so much like 'nevertheless, my grandsire drew
a long bow at the battle of Hastings'--don't you remember, in
'Ivanhoe?'"

The professor sighed. "I have forgotten 'Ivanhoe,'" he said, "which
means, I suppose, that I have forgotten youth. Sometimes its ghost
walks, though. I think it was that which kept me so restless at home. I
thought that if I could get away--You see, before the war, I was
gathering material for a book on primitive psychology and when I came
back I found some of the keenness gone." He smiled grimly. "I came back
inclined to think that all psychology is primitive. But I wanted to get
to work again. I had never studied the West Coast Indians and your
father's letters led me to believe that--er--"

It was not at all polite of her to laugh, but he had to admit that her
laughter was very pleasant and young.

"It is funny, you know," she murmured apologetically. "For I am sure
you pictured father as a kind of white patriarch, surrounded by his
primitive children (father is certain to have called the Indians his
'children'!). Unfortunately, the Indians detest father. They're half
afraid of him, too. I don't know why. Years ago, when we lived up
coast--" she paused, plainly annoyed at her own loquacity, "we kn