s," I snapped--"I'm telling the truth;
I've engaged myself to you; I did it mentally before I bellowed."

"But--"

"You know as well as I do what engagements mean," I said, picking up
the oars and digging them deep in the blue water.

She assented uncertainly.

A few minutes more of vigorous rowing brought us to a muddy landing
under a cluster of tall palmettos, where a gasoline launch lay.
Professor Farrago came down to the shore as I landed, and I walked
ahead to meet him. He was the maddest man I ever saw. But I was his
match, for I was desperate.

"What the devil--" he began, under his breath.

"Nonsense!" I said, deliberately. "An engaged woman is practically
married already, because marriages are made in heaven."

"Good Lord!" he gasped, "are you mad, Gilland? I sent for a
stenographer--"

"Miss Barrison is a stenographer," I said, calmly; and before he could
recover I had presented him, and left them face to face, washing my
hands of the whole affair.

Unloading the boat and carrying the luggage up under the palms, I
heard her saying:

"No, I am not in the least afraid of snakes, and I am quite ready to
begin my duties."

And he: "Mr. Gilland is a young man who--er--lacks practical
experience."

And she: "Mr. Gilland has been most thoughtful for my comfort. The
journey has been perfectly heavenly."

And he, clumsily: "Ahem!--the--er--celestial aspect of your journey
has--er--doubtless been colored by--er--the prospect of
your--er--approaching nuptials--"

She, hastily: "Oh, I do not think so, professor."

"Idiot!" I muttered, dragging the dog to the shore, where his yelps
brought the professor hurrying.

"Is _that_ the dog?" he inquired, adjusting his spectacles.

"That's the dog," I said. "He's full of points, you see?"

"Oh," mused the professor; "I thought he was full of--" He hesitated,
inspecting the animal, who, nose to the ground, stood investigating a
smell of some sort.

"See," I said, with enthusiasm, "he's found a scent; he's trailing it
already! Now he's rolling on it!"

"He's rolling on one of our concentrated food lozenges," said the
professor, dryly. "Tie him up, Mr. Gilland, and ask Mrs. Gilland to
come up to camp. Your room is ready."

"Rooms," I corrected; "she isn't Mrs. Gilland yet," I added, with a
forced smile.

"But you're practically married," observed the professor, "as you
pointed out to me. And if she's practically Mrs. Gilland, why not say
so?"

"Don't