“Nothing like that, Mrs. Burgess!” chirruped Susie. “I can tell Mr. Pendleton exactly where one copy of that pamphlet, and probably the only one in the world, may be found. And a small investment in a night message to Poughkeepsie will verify what I say. There is a copy of that pamphlet at Vassar College that was picked up in Berlin by one of the professors, who gave it to the library. It had a grayish cover and looked like a thesis for a doctorate--that sort of thing. It was a little burned on the edges, and that was one reason why it caught my eye one day when I was poking about looking for something among a lot of German treatises with the most amusing long titles. And it was a perfectly dee-li-cious story--how they dug and mixed up those dynasties there; and then one of them wrote a book about it, just for the money he could get out of it. It was all a fake, but they knew enough to make it look like real goods. It was a kind of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer joke, muddying the water that way.” The conjunction of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer with Nebuchadnezzar caused even Merrill to laugh. “I must wire tonight for a confirmation of this--or, perhaps, if you are an alumna of the college you would do it for me.” “I think,” said Susie, “they still remember me at college. I was the limit!” “If what you say is right,” Pendleton resumed, “I can smash those Germans and make that Seven Seas’ reviewer eat his words! I really believe it would be better for you to wire for me to the librarian for confirmation; I’d rather not publish my anxiety to the world. If you will do this I shall look upon it as the greatest possible favor.” “Delighted!” said Susie, crumpling her napkin. Mrs. Burgess showed signs of rising, but delayed a moment. “Miss Parker, you rather implied that there was more than one reason why you happened to notice a singed document in a strange language, bearing upon a subject usually left to scientists and hardly within the range of a young girl’s interests. Would you mind enlightening us just a little further in the matter?” “I thought it was so funny,” said Susie, smiling upon them all, “because of my papa.” “Your father?” gasped Mrs. Burgess. “Yes, Mrs. Burgess. Anything about bricks always seemed to me so amusing, because papa used to own a brickyard.” V A packet of newspaper clippings forwarded with other mail for Pendleton did not add to the joy of the Burgess breakfast table the next morning. The archæologist murmured an apology and scanned the cuttings with knit brows. “How early,” he asked, “do you imagine Miss Parker can have a confirmation of her impression about that thing of Glosbrenner’s?” “By noon, I should think,” answered Burgess.