have engaged (and paid for
in advance) board and lodging at a place wholly supposititious? Would
he have neglected to ask for references? Hamilton Spence, junior, was
forced to admit that he would not.

But those letters of old Farr had been so blamed plausible!

Well, anyhow, he would have the pleasure of meeting and outfacing the
old rascal. This satisfaction he had expected the night before. But
upon their arrival at the "picturesque though humble" cottage (after a
climb at the memory of which his leg still shuddered), it was found
that Dr. Farr was not at home.

"He has probably gone 'up trail'" Miss Farr had said casually, "and in
that case he won't be back until morning."

"Did you say up?" The professor's voice held incredulity. Whereupon his
hostess had most unkindly smiled: "You're not much of a walker, are
you?" was her untactful comment.

"My leg--" He had actually begun to tell her about his leg! Luckily her
amused shrug had acted as a period. He felt very glad of this now. To
have admitted weakness would have been weak indeed. For the girl was so
splendidly strong! Only a child, of course, but so finely moulded, so
superbly strung--light and lithe. How she had swung up the trail, a
heavy packet in either hand, with scarcely a quickened breath to tell
of the effort! Her face?--he tried to recall her face but found it
provokingly elusive. It was a young face, but not youthful. The
distinction seemed strained and yet it was a real distinction. The eyes
were grey, he thought. The eyebrows very fine, dark and slanted
slightly, as if left that way by some unanswered question. The nose was
straight, delightful in profile. The mouth too firm for a face so
young, the chin too square--perhaps. But even as he catalogued the
features the face escaped him. He had a changing impression, only, of a
graceful contour, warm and white, dark careless eyes, and
hair--quantities of hair lying close and smooth in undulated waves--its
color like nothing so much as the brown of a crisping autumn leaf. He
remembered, though, that she was poorly dressed--and utterly
unconscious, or careless, of being so. And she had been amused,
undoubtedly amused, at his annoyance. A most unfeminine girl! And that
at least was fortunate--for he was very, very weary of everything
feminine!

CHAPTER III

Yawningly, the professor reached for his watch.

It had run down.

"Evidently they do not wake guests for breakfast," he mused. "Pe