, all the same," I snarled.

"But marriages are made in--"

I cast a desperate eye upon him.

From that moment, whenever we were alone together, he made a target of
me. I never had supposed him humorously vindictive; he was, and his
apparently innocent mistakes almost turned my hair gray.

But to Miss Barrison he was kind and courteous, and for a time
over-serious. Observing him, I could never detect the slightest
symptom of dislike for her sex--a failing which common rumor had
always credited him with to the verge of absolute rudeness.

On the contrary, it was perfectly plain to anybody that he liked her.
There was in his manner towards her a mixture of business formality
and the deferential attitude of a gentleman.

We were seated, just before sunset, outside of the hut built of
palmetto logs, when Professor Farrago, addressing us both, began the
explanation of our future duties.

Miss Barrison, it appeared, was to note everything said by himself,
making several shorthand copies by evening. In other words, she was to
report every scrap of conversation she heard while in the Everglades.
And she nodded intelligently as he finished, and drew pad and pencil
from the pocket of her walking-skirt, jotting down his instructions as
a beginning. I could see that he was pleased.

"The reason I do this," he said, "is because I do not wish to hide
anything that transpires while we are on this expedition. Only the
most scrupulously minute record can satisfy me; no details are too
small to merit record; I demand and I court from my fellow-scientists
and from the public the fullest investigation."

He smiled slightly, turning towards me.

"You know, Mr. Gilland, how dangerous to the reputation of a
scientific man is any line of investigation into the unusual. If a man
once is even suspected of charlatanism, of sensationalism, of turning
his attention to any phenomena not strictly within the proper pale of
scientific investigation, that man is doomed to ridicule; his
profession disowns him; he becomes a man without honor, without
authority. Is it not so?"

"Yes," I said.

"Therefore," he resumed, thoughtfully, "as I do most firmly believe in
the course I am now pursuing, whether I succeed or fail I desire a
true and minute record made, hiding nothing of what may be said or
done. A stenographer alone can give this to the world, while I can
only supplement it with a description of events--if I live to
transcribe them."