ll--articles. You might not call them scientific. Science is very
exact, isn't it? Father would rather be interesting than exact any day."

Her hearer found no difficulty in believing this.

"His folk-lore stories are the best--and the least exact," continued
she, heedless of the shock inflicted upon the professorial mind. "He
knows exactly the kind of things Indians tell, and tells it very much
better."

"You mean he--he fakes it?"

"Well--he calls it 'editing.'"

"But, my dear girl, you can't edit folk-lore!"

"Father can."

"But--but it isn't done! Such material loses all value if not
authentic."

"Does it?"

The question was indifferent. So indifferent, in the face of a matter
of such moment, that Hamilton Spence writhed upon his couch. Here at
least there was room for genuine missionary work. He cleared his throat.

"I will tell you just how much it matters," he began firmly. But the
fates were not with him, neither was his audience. Attracted by some
movement which he had missed she, the audience, had slipped to the
door, and was opening it cautiously.

"What is it?" asked the baffled lecturer crossly.

"S-ssh! I think it's Sami."

"A tame bear?"

"No. Wait. I'll prop you up so you can see him. Look, behind the
veranda post."

The professor looked and forgot about the value of authenticity; for
from behind the veranda post a most curious face was peeping--a round,
solemn baby face of cafe au lait with squat, wide nose and flat-set
eyes.

"A Jap?" exclaimed Spence in surprise.

"No. He's Indian. Some of the babies are so Japaneesy that it's hard to
tell the difference. Father says it's a strain of the same blood. But
they are not all as pretty as Sami. Isn't he a duck?"

"He is at home in the rain, anyway. Why doesn't he come in?"

"He's afraid of you."

"That's unusual--until one has seen me."

"Sami doesn't need to see a stranger."

"Well, that's primitive enough, surely! Let's call him in."

"I'd like to, but Sami won't come for calling."

"Oh, won't he? Leave the door open and watch him."

As absorbed now as the girl herself, the professor put his finger to
his lips and whistled--a low, clear whistle, rather like the calling of
a meditative bird. Several times he whistled so, on different notes;
and then, to her surprise, the watching girl saw the little wild thing
outside stir in answer to the call. Sami came out from behind the post
and stood listening, for all the world like