A Matter of Interest | Page 5

Robert W. Chambers
marvellous, and he said that I might render him invaluable service if I would consent to come and camp at Pine Inlet for a few weeks.
I looked at his daughter, but she turned her back--not exactly in disdain either. Her back was beautifully moulded. Her gown fitted also.
"Camp out here?" I repeated, pretending to be unpleasantly surprised.
"I do not think he would care to," said Miss Holroyd without turning.
I had not expected that.
"Above all things," said I, in a clear, pleasant voice, "I like to camp out."
She said nothing.
"It is not exactly camping," said the professor. "Come, you shall see our conservatory. Daisy, come, dear! you must put on a heavier frock; it is getting toward sundown."
At that moment, over a near dune, two horses' heads appeared, followed by two human heads, then a wagon, then a yellow dog.
I turned triumphantly to the professor.
"You are the very man I want," he muttered; "the very man--the very man."
I looked at Daisy Holroyd. She returned my glance with a defiant little smile.
"Waal," said Captain McPeek, driving up, "here we be! Git out, Frisby."
Frisby, fat, nervous, and sentimental, hopped out of the cart.
"Come!" said the professor, impatiently moving across the dunes. I walked with Daisy Holroyd. McPeek and Frisby followed. The yellow dog walked by himself.

II.
The sun was dipping into the sea as we trudged across the meadows toward a high dome-shaped dune covered with cedars and thickets of sweet bay. I saw no sign of habitation among the sand hills. Far as the eye could reach, nothing broke the gray line of sea and sky save the squat dunes crowned with stunted cedars.
Then, as we rounded the base of the dune, we almost walked into the door of a house. My amazement amused Miss Holroyd, and I noticed also a touch of malice in her pretty eyes. But she said nothing, following her father into the house, with the slightest possible gesture to me. Was it invitation, or was it menace?
The house was merely a light wooden frame, covered with some waterproof stuff that looked like a mixture of rubber and tar. Over this--in fact, over the whole roof--was pitched an awning of heavy sail-cloth. I noticed that the house was anchored to the sand by chains, already rusted red. But this one-storied house was not the only building nestling in the south shelter of the big dune. A hundred feet away stood another structure-long, low, also built of wood. It had rows on rows of round portholes on every side. The ports were fitted with heavy glass, hinged to swing open if necessary. A single big double door occupied the front.
Behind this long, low building was still another, a mere shed. Smoke rose from the sheet-iron chimney. There was somebody moving about inside the open door.
As I stood gaping at this mushroom hamlet the professor appeared at the door and asked me to enter. I stepped in at once.
The house was much larger than I had imagined. A straight hallway ran through the centre from east to west. On either side of this hallway were rooms, the doors swinging wide open. I counted three doors on each side; the three on the south appeared to be bedrooms.
The professor ushered me into a room on the north side, where I found Captain McPeek and Frisby sitting at a table, upon which were drawings and sketches of articulated animals and fishes.
"You see, McPeek," said the professor, "we only wanted one more man, and I think I've got him.--Haven't I?" turning eagerly to me.
"Why, yes," I said, laughing; "this is delightful. Am I invited to stay here?"
"Your bedroom is the third on the south side; everything is ready. McPeek, you can bring his trunk to-morrow, can't you?" demanded the professor.
The red-faced captain nodded, and shifted a quid.
"Then it's all settled," said the professor, and he drew a sigh of satisfaction. "You see," he said, turning to me, "I was at my wit's end to know whom to trust. I never thought of you. Jack's out in China, and I didn't dare trust anybody in my own profession. All you care about is writing verses and stories, isn't it?"
"I like to shoot," I replied mildly.
"Just the thing!" he cried, beaming at us all in turn. "Now I can see no reason why we should not progress rapidly. McPeek, you and Frisby must get those boxes up here before dark. Dinner will be ready before you have finished unloading. Dick, you will wish to go to your room first."
My name isn't Dick, but he spoke so kindly, and beamed upon me in such a fatherly manner, that I let it go. I had occasion to correct him afterward, several times, but he always forgot the next minute. He calls me Dick to this day.
It was dark
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