ead at last.

"Sorry, old chap; don't seem to remember it at all if I ever did--not a
dashed glimmer of it left." I yawned. "Never tried to keep any of those
college things, you know."

Billings, who had been staring, uttered a rude comment.

"It's not a language, you cuckoo," he snapped; "it's a man. He's a
D.S.--distinguished scientist, you know. What's more, he's one of your
neighbors, right in this building."

"Don't know him," I said a little stiffly. "What's his club?"

Billings all but gnashed his teeth.

"Club, thunder!" he jerked out impatiently. "Why, man, he's a member of
all the great societies of the world--bodies whose rank and
exclusiveness put the blink on all the clubs you or I ever saw. Got a
string of letters after his name like a universal keyboard, and is the
main squeeze, the great scream, among all the scientific push over here
and in Europe. Lots of dough, but off his trolley with learning."

"And in this building?" I said wonderingly. "What's he like?"

For a moment I had a thought of Foxy Grandpa, but the janitor had said
he did not belong in the building. Besides, Billings' next words removed
that clue to the lost pajamas. By Jove, how I did long to ask his advice
about them! Once I was on the point of doing so--had devilish narrow
escape, in fact--but pulled up on the brink. So deuced hard to remember
that anything so delicate and sweet and fetching could be Billings'
sister, you know. I had been wondering for an hour whether I had better
say anything about my adventure up at Tarrytown--wondered if she would
like me to.

"Here, you moon calf, wake up!" Billings' coarse voice brought me back
to the present, and I had to blink and pretend I was listening. "I'm
telling you about Doozenberry! I say you surely must have seen him--you
couldn't miss him in a black cave. Queer-looking old skate, tall as a
street lamp and as thin; looks like a long cylinder of black
broadcloth. So dignified it hurts him."

I reflected.

"Awfully large head," continued Billings, elevating his hands some two
feet apart, "pear-shaped affair--big end up--bumps on it like halves of
grape fruit, porcupine eyebrows, and--"

"Oh, I know," I said, nodding eagerly; "and a little, shriveled--well,
kind of mashed sort of face, eyes beadlike and jolly small. I've got him
now! I've gone down with him in the elevator."

Billings nodded. "You've got him painted," he said drily. "That's the
professor; only, his eyes ar