“Here they are, Louis,” said Coddington. “Make them into handsome girls. Show your skill.” “Make us handsome, with the exception of our faces,” said Dick “Those must be as hideous as possible.” “But ze faces will be covaired by ze veils,” protested Louis. “Not all the time,” smiled Dick. “Some one is going to get a peep beneath my veil.” “Mine, too,” nodded Brad. “I want a mug on me that would scare a dog into a fit.” “Vera well; eet s’all be. Get redee.” “In the meantime, boys,” said Coddington, “I will be on the watch for the guest who is on the outlook for a harem.” Some time later Colonel Stringer and Professor Gunn rapped at the door of the house. They were not admitted by Coddington himself, but by a black man in flowing garments, who bowed obsequiously before the colonel and bade them follow him. They were ushered into a large, luxuriously furnished room, with many divans and Turkish rugs, a fountain playing in the centre of the apartment, and a man in Eastern garments propped up amid some cushions, lazily smoking a hookah. “My deah Coddington,” said Stringer, hastening toward the smoker and bowing low, “delighted! Permit me to present my friend, Professor Gunn, of America.” The professor bowed after the fashion of Stringer. “Deuced glad to know you, don’t you know,” drawled Coddington. “Is this the gentleman, colonel, who is looking for a harem?” “The same, suh,” nodded Stringer. “Well, by Jove! I believe I’ve got the very thing he wants. I have the finest harem in the East, you know. Fourteen wives, in all, and every one a pearl. Ya-as.” “But why do you wish to sell out, sir?” questioned Gunn. “It’s become a deuced bore, don’t you understand. Besides that, I must return to England soon, and I can’t take my beauties with me. It would be quite scandalous there. I’d find myself arrested, don’t you know. So I have to dispose of my dear little doves. It breaks my heart, but I can’t do anything different. If you want a harem, professor, that outrivals anything in the East, you’ll get it right here, and get it for a song, too.” Now, it is best to confess the actual truth right here. Professor Gunn had no intention of buying a harem. What the old boy wanted was to get inside a harem—to see it and get a peep at the “Eastern houris,” as he had heard them called. And he took this method of getting in. The professor was congratulating himself on his cleverness. “Eh, eh, ahem!” coughed the old pedagogue. “I’ve always been somewhat shy of bargains that can be obtained for a mere song. I always favor inspecting whatever I purchase.” “Then be seated,” invited Coddington, motioning toward the heaped-up cushions at his side. “Sit here, professor, and you shall see some of the sights of the harem.” The professor hastened to deposit himself amid the cushions, chuckling inwardly over his success. Colonel Stringer accepted a seat on the opposite side of the professed owner of the harem. Coddington clapped his hands.