"I have seldom had the opportunity to study the subject, but, as a boy,
I collected flint arrow-heads----"
"Flint arrow-heads!" said the professor coldly.
"Yes; they were the nearest things to fossils obtainable," I replied,
marvelling at my own mendacity.
The professor looked into the hole. I also looked. I could see nothing
in it. "He's digging for fossils," thought I to myself.
"Perhaps," said the professor cautiously, "you might wish to aid me
in a little research--that is to say, if you have an inclination for
fossils." The double-entendre was not lost upon me.
"I have read all your books so eagerly," said I, "that to join you,
to be of service to you in any research, however difficult and trying,
would be an honour and a privilege that I never dared to hope for."
"That," thought I to myself, "will do its own work."
But the professor was still suspicious. How could he help it, when
he remembered Jack's escapades, in which my name was always blended!
Doubtless he was satisfied that my influence on Jack was evil. The
contrary was the case, too.
"Fossils," he said, worrying the edges of the excavation with his
spade, "fossils are not things to be lightly considered."
"No, indeed!" I protested.
"Fossils are the most interesting as well as puzzling things in the
world," said he.
"They are!" I cried enthusiastically.
"But I am not looking for fossils," observed the professor mildly.
This was a facer. I looked at Daisy Holroyd. She bit her lip and fixed
her eyes on the sea. Her eyes were wonderful eyes.
"Did you think I was digging for fossils in a salt meadow?" queried
the professor. "You can have read very little about the subject. I am
digging for something quite different."
I was silent. I knew that my face was a trifle flushed. I longed to
say, "Well, what the devil are you digging for?" but I only stared into
the hole as though hypnotized.
"Captain McPeek and Frisby ought to be here," he said, looking first at
Daisy and then across the meadows.