"Yes, sir."

"You are, then, of scientific pursuit?"

"Of scientific ambition, at least. I hope to meet your
requirements."

"Your name, if you please."

"Jones; A. Jones, of New York City."

"You live with your family?"

"I have no family or near relatives."

"That is well. I will not conceal from, you that there are risks.
But the pay is high. Can you endure exposure? Laboring in all
weathers? Subsisting on rough fare and sleeping as you may?"

"I have camped in the northern forests."

"Yes," mused the voice. "You look hardy."

Average Jones arose. "You--er--are spying upon me, then," he drawled
quietly. "I might have--er--suspected a peep-hole."

He advanced slowly toward the door whence the voice came. A chair
blocked his way. Without lowering his gaze he shoved at the
obstacle with his foot.