It was understood that just now he was engaged upon a treatise relating to
the possible existence of a race before the Mound Builders in the Middle
West, and he was not to be disturbed, of course, at his work.

But when Ruth and Ann Hicks entered the big office room, there he was,
bent over huge tomes upon the work table, his spectacles awry, and his wig
pushed so far back upon his head that two hands' breadth of glistening
crown was exposed.

The fiction that Dr. Tellingham was not bald might have been kept up very
well indeed, did not the gentleman get so excited while he worked. As soon
as he became interested in his books, he proceeded to bare his high brow
to all beholders, and the wig slid toward the back of his neck.

The truth was, as Heavy Stone said, Dr. Tellingham had to remove his
collar to brush his hair--there really was so little of it.

"Dear, dear!" sputtered the historian, peering at the two girls over his
reading glasses. "You don't want me, of course?"

"Oh, no, Dr. Tellingham. This is a new girl. We wished to see Mrs.
Tellingham," Ruth assured him.

"Quite so," he said, briskly. "She is--Ah! she comes! My dear! Two of the
young ladies to see you," and instantly he was buried in his books
again--that is, buried all but his shining crown.

Mrs. Tellingham was a graceful, gray-haired lady, with a charming smile.
She trailed her black robe across the carpet and stooped to kiss Ruth
warmly, for she not only respected the junior, but had learned to love