In the Midst of Alarms | Page 4

wouldn't take Canada as a

gift, let alone fight for it. I've been there."
Yates' newspaper instinct thrilled him as he thought of the possible
sensation. Then the light slowly died out of his eyes when he looked at
the professor, who had flushed somewhat and compressed his lips as he
listened to the slighting remarks on his country.
"Well, Sam," said the newspaper man at last, "it isn't more than once in
a lifetime that you'll find me give the go-by to a piece of news, but the
fact is I'm on my vacation just now. About the first I've had for fifteen
years; so, you see, I must take care of it. No, let the Argus get scooped,
if it wants to. They'll value my services all the more when I get back.
No. 518, I think you said?"
The clerk handed over the key, and the professor gave the boy the
check for his valise at Yates' suggestion.
"Now, get a move on you," said Yates to the elevator boy. "We're going
right through with you."
And so the two friends were shot up together to the fifth floor.

CHAPTER II.
The sky parlor, as Yates had termed it, certainly commanded a very
extensive view. Immediately underneath was a wilderness of roofs.
Farther along were the railway tracks that Yates objected to; and a line
of masts and propeller funnels marked the windings of Buffalo Creek,
along whose banks arose numerous huge elevators, each marked by
some tremendous letter of the alphabet, done in white paint against the
somber brown of the big building. Still farther to the west was a more
grateful and comforting sight for a hot day. The blue lake, dotted with
white sails and an occasional trail of smoke, lay shimmering under the
broiling sun. Over the water, through the distant summer haze, there
could be seen the dim line of the Canadian shore.

"Sit you down," cried Yates, putting both hands on the other's shoulders,
and pushing him into a chair near the window. Then, placing his finger
on the electric button, he added: "What will you drink?"
"I'll take a glass of water, if it can be had without trouble," said
Renmark.
Yates' hand dropped from the electric button hopelessly to his side, and
he looked reproachfully at the professor.
"Great Heavens!" he cried, "have something mild. Don't go rashly in
for Buffalo water before you realize what it is made of. Work up to it
gradually. Try a sherry cobbler or a milk shake as a starter."
"Thank you, no. A glass of water will do very well for me. Order what
you like for yourself."
"Thanks, I can be depended on for doing that." He pushed the button,
and, when the boy appeared, said: "Bring up an iced cobbler, and
charge it to Professor Renmark, No. 518. Bring also a pitcher of ice
water for Yates, No. 520. There," he continued gleefully, "I'm going to
have all the drinks, except the ice water, charged to you. I'll pay the bill,
but I'll keep the account to hold over your head in the future. Professor
Stillson Renmark, debtor to Metropolitan Grand--one sherry cobbler,
one gin sling, one whisky cocktail, and so on. Now, then, Stilly, let's
talk business. You're not married, I take it, or you wouldn't have
responded to my invitation so promptly." The professor shook his head.
"Neither am I. You never had the courage to propose to a girl; and I
never had the time."
"Lack of self-conceit was not your failing in the old days, Richard,"
said Renmark quietly.
Yates laughed. "Well, it didn't hold me back any, to my knowledge.
Now I'll tell you how I've got along since we attended old Scragmore's
academy together, fifteen years ago. How time does fly! When I left, I
tried teaching for one short month. I had some theories on the
education of our youth which did not seem to chime in with the

prejudices the school trustees had already formed on the subject."
The professor was at once all attention. Touch a man on his business,
and he generally responds by being interested.
"And what were your theories?" he asked.
"Well, I thought a teacher should look after the physical as well as the
mental welfare of his pupils. It did not seem to me that his duty to those
under his charge ended with mere book learning."
"I quite agree with you," said the professor cordially.
"Thanks. Well, the trustees didn't. I joined the boys at their games,
hoping my example would have an influence on their conduct on the
playground as well as in the schoolroom. We got up a rattling good
cricket club. You may not remember that I stood rather better in cricket
at the