The Window-Gazer | Page 6

quite charming. The earlier ones had dealt with the
professor's pet subject, primitive psychology. The later ones had been
more personal. Spence found himself remembering such phrases as
"my humble but picturesque home," "my Chinese servant, a factotum
extraordinary," "my young daughter who attends to all my simple
wants" and "my secretary on whose efficient aid I more and more
depend--"
"I suppose there is a secretary?" he asked suddenly.
"Oh yes," answered the green cloak, "I'm it."
"And, 'a young daughter who attends'--"
"--'to all my simple wants?' That's me, too."
"But you can't be 'my Chinese servant, a factotum extraordinary?'"
"No, you have already met Li Ho."

"There?" queried the professor, gesturing weakly.
"Yes."
Spence pulled himself together. "There must be a home, though," he
asserted firmly, "'Humble but picturesque'--"
"Well," admitted the voice from the green cloak, "it is rather
picturesque. And it is certainly humble."
Suddenly she laughed. It was a very young laugh. The professor felt
relieved. She was a girl, then, not a woman.
"Isn't father too' amusing?" she asked pleasantly.
"Quite too much so," agreed the professor. He was very cold. "I beg
your pardon," he added stiffly, remembering his manners.
"Oh, I don't mind!" The girl assured him. "Father is a dreadful old fraud.
I have no illusions. But perhaps it isn't so bad after all. He really is
quite an authority on the West Coast Indians,--if that is what you wish
to consult him about."
Professor Spence was in a quandary. But perfect frankness seemed
indicated.
"I didn't come to consult him about anything," he said slowly. "I am a
psychologist. I wish to do my own observing, at first hand. I came not
to question Dr. Farr, but to board with him."
"BOARD WITH HIM!"
In her heartfelt surprise the girl turned to him and he saw her face,
young, arresting, and excessively indignant.
"Quite so," he said. "Do not excite yourself. I perceive the impossibility.
I can't have you attending to my wants, however simple. Neither can I
share the services of a secretary whose post, I gather, is an honorary
one. But I simply cannot go back to Mr. Johnston's grin: so if you can

put me up for the night--"
She had turned away again and was silent for so long that Spence
became uneasy. But at last she spoke.
"This is really too bad of father! He has never done anything quite as
absurd as this before. I don't quite see what he expected to get out of it.
He might know that you would not stay. He wouldn't want you to stay.
I can't understand--unless," her voice became crisp with sudden
enlightenment, "unless you were foolish enough to pay in advance!
Surely you did not do that?"
The professor was observing his boots in an abstracted way.
"I am afraid my feet are very wet," he remarked.
"They are. They are resting in at least an inch of water," she said coldly.
"But that isn't answering my question. Did you pay my father anything
in advance?"
The professor fidgeted.
"A small payment in advance is not very unusual," he offered.
"Especially if one's prospective host is anxious to add a few little
unaccustomed luxuries--"
"Yes, yes," she interrupted rudely. "I recognize the phrase!" Without
looking up he felt her wrathful gaze upon his face. "It means that father
has simply done you brown. Oh, well, it's your own fault. You're old
enough to know your way about. And the luxuries you will enjoy at our
place will certainly be unaccustomed ones. Didn't you even ask for
references?"
Her tone irritated the professor unaccountably.
"Are we nearly there?" he asked, disdaining to answer. "I am extremely
cold."
"You will have a nice climb to warm you," she told him grimly, "all up

hill!"
"'A verdant slope,'" quoted the professor sweetly, "'rising gently from
salt water toward snowclad peaks, which, far away,--'" They caught
each other's eyes and laughed.
"Here is our landing," said the girl quite cheerfully. "And none too soon!
I suppose you haven't noticed it, but the 'Tillicum' is leaking like a
sieve!"
CHAPTER II
Salt in the air and the breath of pine and cedar are excellent sleep
inducers. Professor Spence had not expected to sleep that night; yet he
did sleep. He awoke to find the sun high. A great beam of it lay across
the foot of his camp cot, bringing comforting warmth to the toes which
protruded from the shelter of abbreviated blankets. The professor
wiggled his toes cautiously. He was accustomed to doing this before
making more radical movements. They were a valuable index to the
state of the sciatic nerve. This morning they wiggled somewhat stiffly
and there were also various twinges. But considering the trying
experiences of yesterday it was