"It is important for me to see him. If he will be back later I can come
again."

The young man did not look like an agent; he carried no telltale
insignia. He was tall and straight and decidedly blond, and he smiled
pleasantly as he fanned himself with his straw hat. Where his brown hair
parted there was a cowlick that flung an untamable bang upon his
forehead, giving him a combative look that his smile belied. He was a
trifle too old for a senior, Sylvia reflected, soberly studying his
lean, smooth-shaven face, but not nearly old enough to be a professor;
and except the pastor of the church which she attended, and the
physician who had been called to see her in her childish ailments, all
men in her world were either students or teachers. The town men were
strange beings, whom Professor Kelton darkly called Philistines, and
their ways and interests were beyond her comprehension.

"If you will wait I think I may be able to find him. He may have gone to
the library or to the observatory, or for a walk. Won't you please come
in?"

Her gravity amused the young man, who did not think it so serious a
matter to gain an interview with a retired professor in a small college.
They debated, with much formality on both sides, whether Sylvia should
seek her grandfather or merely direct the visitor to places where he
would be likely to find him; but as the stranger had never seen
Professor Kelton, they concluded that it would be wiser for Sylvia to do
the seeking.

She ushered the visitor into the library, where it was cooler than on