wonderful jewelled, helmet-like head-dress, and jingling bangles on
her ankles, and when she danced she made most graceful and poetic
gestures with her supple wrists--but that has nothing to do with
isopods, absolutely nothing.

Letters from home came occasionally. Professor Farrago had returned to
the Bronx and had been re-elected to the high office he had so nobly
held when I first became associated with him.

Through his kindness and by his advice I remained for several years in
the Far East, until a letter from him arrived recalling me and also
announcing his own hurried and sudden departure for Florida. He also
mentioned my promotion to the office of subcurator of department; so I
started on my homeward voyage very much pleased with the world, and
arrived in New York on April 1, 1904, ready for a rest to which I
believed myself entitled. And the first thing that they handed me was
a letter from Professor Farrago, summoning me South.




XIII


The letter that started me--I was going to say startled me, but only
imaginative people are startled--the letter, then, that started me
from Bronx Park to the South I print without the permission of my
superior, Professor Farrago. I have not obtained his permission, for
the somewhat exciting reason that nobody knows where he is. Publicity
being now recognized as the annihilator of mysteries, a benevolent