"You can laugh, eh? Well, that iss good," commented
the grave and unsmiling one.

"Sure," answered I, made more flippant by his
solemnity. "Surely I can laugh. For what else was my
father Irish? Dad used to say that a sense of humor was
like a shillaly--an iligent thing to have around handy,
especially when the joke's on you."

The ghost of a twinkle appeared again in the corners
of the German blue eyes. Some fiend of rudeness seized
me.

"Laugh!" I commanded.

Dr. Ernst von Gerhard stiffened. "Pardon?" inquired
he, as one who is sure that he has misunderstood.

"Laugh!" I snapped again. "I'll dare you to do it.
I'll double dare you! You dassen't!"

But he did. After a moment's bewildered surprise he
threw back his handsome blond head and gave vent to a
great, deep infectious roar of mirth that brought the
Spalpeens tumbling up the stairs in defiance of their
mother's strict instructions.

After that we got along beautifully. He
turned out to be quite human, beneath the outer crust of
reserve. He continued his examination only after bribing