my business in these parts," I said, "but I'll
tell you. I'm collecting grasses for the Bronx Botanical Garden."

"Then, by Jove!" said Graves, "you have certainly come to the right
place. There used to be a tree on this island, but the last man who saw
it died in 1789--Grass! The place is all grass: there are fifty kinds
right around my house here."

"I've noticed only eighteen," I said, "but that isn't the point. The
point is: when do the Batengo Island grasses begin to go to seed?" And I
smiled.

"You think you've got me stumped, don't you?" he said. "That a mere
cable agent wouldn't notice such things. Well, that grass there," and he
pointed--"beach nut we call it--is the first to ripen seed, and, as far
as I know, it does it just six weeks from now."

"Are you just making things up to impress me?"

"No, sir, I am not. I know to the minute. You see, I'm a victim of
hay-fever."

"In that case," I said, "expect me back about the time your nose begins
to run."

"Really?" And his whole face lighted up. "I'm delighted. Only six
weeks. Why, then, if you'll stay round for only five or six weeks _more_
you'll be here for the wedding."

"I'll make it if I possibly can," I said. "I want to see if that girl's
really true."

"Anything I can do to help you while you're gone? I've got loads of
spare time----"

"If you knew anything about grasses----"

"I don't. But I'll blow back into the interior and look around. I've
been meaning to right along, just for fun. But I can never get any of
_them_ to go with me."

"The natives?"

"Yes. Poor lot. They're committing race suicide as fast as they can.
There are more wooden gods than people in Batengo village, and the
superstition's so thick you could cut it with a knife. All the manly
virtues have perished.... Aloiu!"

The boy who did Graves's chores for him came lazily out of the house.

"Aloiu," said Graves, "just run back into the island to the top of that
hill--see?--that one over there--and fetch a handful of grass for this
gentleman. He'll give you five dollars for it."

Aloiu grinned sheepishly and shook his head.

"Fifty dollars?"

Aloiu shook his head with even more firmness, and I whistled. Fifty
dollars would have made him the Rockefeller-Carnegie-Morgan of those
parts.

"All right, coward," said Graves cheerfully. "Run away and play with the
other children.... Now, isn't that curious? Neither love, money, nor
insult will drag one of them a mile fr