he began joyously. "Turtles! Ha!--I know turtles!" he proceeded with
real triumph. "Why, that's the first word I've recognized in all
this--this--er--this what I've been reading! Sure I know turtles!" he
reiterated with increasing conviction. "Why, sure! Those--those
slow-crawling, box-like affairs that--live in the mud and are used for
soup and--er--combs," he continued blithely.

"The--very--same," nodded little Eve Edgarton soberly.

"Oh--Lordy!" groaned her father from the window.

"Oh, this is going to be lots better!" beamed Barton. "Now that I know
what it's all about--"

"For goodness' sake," growled Edgarton from his table, "how do you
people think I'm going to do any work with all this jabbering going
on!"

Hesitatingly for a moment Barton glanced back over his shoulder at
Edgarton, and then turned round again to probe Eve's preferences in
the matter. As sluggishly determinate as two black turtles trailing
along a white sand beach, her great dark eyes in her little pale face
seemed headed suddenly toward some Far-Away Idea.

"Oh--go right on reading, Mr. Barton," nodded little Eve Edgarton.

"Three superfamilies of turtles,"

began Barton all over again.