This ended in a frightened squawk. Matthews leaped. One long arm grasped Jimmy. Then both hands had him. Jimmy was carried struggling to the homemade wharf. Thence he was flung into the sparkling waters of the lake. When his head emerged Matthews flung a cake of soap at him. "Here, you need this, you're dirty." The puppy, thinking this was a good game, yelped and frolicked. Out of a window above the sleeping porch there popped a bushy white head, a remarkably high wide brow, deeply sunken blue eyes and, as if accentuating the rest of the remarkable features, bushy black eyebrows. An irascible voice, in clear, crisp accents came down. "What is this, what is this, what is this abominable disturbance?" "Oh, nothing, Professor," responded Matthews. "A tramp came around and--" "A tramp, here?" Just then the dripping form of Jimmy emerged from the water. "What's that? Who is that? Dear me, it looks like Mr. Hale." The bushy white head disappeared. In a short time, the old man, clad in pajamas of somber hue, appeared at the door. Matthews was staring at Jimmy in well simulated disbelief and surprise. "By gosh, you're right, Professor. It _does_ look like Hale. Now who would have thought--" Professor Brierly glared at his young protégé suspiciously. He stared at Hale. "But, Mr. Hale is all wet and so are you. Your bedding is--now what kind of prank is that? I came up here for a rest. I--" "Yes, Professor, Mr. Hale is all wet. He's that way frequently, you know." "Mr. Hale is--why Mr. Hale you look tired, you're caked with mud. We did not know you were coming." Hale briefly explained that he had been taking an involuntary lesson in the geography of the New England states and part of Canada; that he had been driving for something more than twenty-four hours. Professor Brierly hospitably insisted that he take a bath and a rest. Considerably refreshed, Hale awoke in time for luncheon, when he was introduced to the other members of the household, Norah, Matthews' sister and her little boy Thomas, a nut brown youngster of four summers, between whom and Professor Brierly there had grown up a vast friendship. Thomas addressed the old scientist familiarly as "Pop" an appellation that Professor Brierly would have resented fiercely if used by anyone else. Politeness forbade him from inquiring for whom the vacant chair at the table was standing when there was a crunching of the gravel outside appraising them of the coming of a visitor. The figure of McCall, District Attorney of New York, loomed through the doorway. They had been conscious for some minutes past of the increasing roar of a small outboard motor which had stopped outside their own, door. McCall grasped the hand of the newspaperman. "Well, well, look who's here! A regular family reunion. All that's necessary to make this complete is a murder or two and it would be like old times indeed. What brings the representative of the press here?"