"Philander!"

The doughty little professor, who has proved himself as brave as a lion
in the face of actual and overwhelming danger, now shows positive signs
of flunking. He clutches the arm of his fellow-adventurer, and whispers:

"John Craig, remember your solemn promise."

"Never fear; I'll stand by you, professor."

"Philander Sharpe!"

This time the inflection is more positive and acrid. It is no longer a
tone of plaint and entreaty, but touches the Caudle lecture style. Of
course, he can no longer ignore the presence of his better half.

"It's I, Gwendolin," he says, meekly.

"Oh, it is! You've condescended to take some notice of me at last. Well,
I'm glad to see you. Come up stairs at once, and confess that you've
treated me abominably, you bad man."

"For Heaven's sake let's get in before a crowd gathers," groans the
professor, with a glance of horror up in the direction of the
white-capped head protruding from, the second-story window.

Craig is amused, but takes pity on his companion, so they enter the
hotel together.

"Will you tell her all?" he asks.