strokes out into the sunny waters
of Little Sprite Lake, now within a few miles of my journey's end.

From ponds hidden in the marshes herons rose in lazily laborious
flight, flapping low across the water; high in the cypress yellow-eyed
ospreys bent crested heads to watch our progress; sun-baked
alligators, lying heavily in the shoreward sedge, slid open, glassy
eyes as we passed.

"Even the 'gators make eyes at you," I said, resting on my oars.

We were on terms of badinage.

"Who was it who shed crocodile tears at the prospect of shipping me
North?" she inquired.

"Speaking of tears," I observed, "somebody is likely to shed a number
when Professor Farrago is picked up."

"Pooh!" she said, and snapped her pretty, sun-tanned fingers; and I
resumed the oars in time to avoid shipwreck on a large mud-bar.

She reclined in the stern, serenely occupied with the view, now and
then caressing the discouraged dog, now and then patting her hair
where the wind had loosened a bright strand.

"If Professor Farrago didn't expect a woman stenographer," she said,
abruptly, "why did he instruct you to bring a complete outfit of
woman's clothing?"

"I don't know," I said, tartly.

"But you bought them. Are they for a young woman or an old woman?"

"I don't know; I sent a messenger to a department store. I don't know
what he bought."

"Didn't you look them over?"

"No. Why? I should have been no wiser. I fancy they're all right,
because the bill was eighteen hundred dollars--"

The pretty stenographer sat up abruptly.

"Is that much?" I asked, uneasily. "I've always heard women's clothing
was expensive. Wasn't it enough? I told the boy to order the
best;--Professor Farrago always requires the very best scientific
instruments, and--I listed the clothes as scientific accessories--that
being the object of this expedition--_What_ are you laughing at?"

When it pleased her to recover her gravity she announced her desire to
inspect and repack the clothing; but I refused.

"They're for Professor Farrago," I said. "I don't know what he wants
of them. I don't suppose he intends to wear 'em and caper about the
jungle, but they're his. I got them because he told me to. I bought a
cage, too, to fit myself, but I don't suppose he means to put me in
it. Perhaps," I added, "he may invite you into it."

"Let me refold the gowns," she pleaded, persuasively. "What does a
clumsy man know about packing such clothing as that? If you d