“What do you think of it, Brad?” asked Dick, placing a hand on the shoulder of his comrade, who was leaning on the rail and staring at the bewildering panorama. Buckhart drew a deep breath. “Pard,” he answered, “she beats my dreams a whole lot. I certain didn’t allow that the country of the ‘unspeakable Turk’ could be half as beautiful.” “Wait until we get on shore before you form an opinion,” laughed Dick. “It certainly is beautiful from here, but I have reasons to believe that things will not seem so beautiful on closer inspection.” “Then I opine I don’t care to land!” exclaimed Brad. “I’d like to remember her just as she looks now.” “Hum! ha!” broke in another voice. “I don’t blame you, my boy. Isn’t she beautiful! Isn’t she wonderful! Isn’t she ravishing!” “All of that, professor,” agreed the Texan. Professor Gunn, who had joined them, readjusted his spectacles and thrust his hand into the bosom of his coat. “I have admired her for a long time,” he declared. “In fact, ever since my eyes first beheld her intellectual and classic countenance. Her hair is a golden halo.” “Eh?” grunted Buckhart, in surprise. “Hair?” exclaimed Dick, puzzled. “Her eyes are like limpid lakes,” continued Zenas. “Eyes?” gasped both boys. “Her mouth is a well of wisdom.” “What are you talking about?” demanded Dick. “Her teeth,” went on the professor—“her teeth are pearls beyond price.” “Is he daffy?” muttered the Texan. “And her form has all the grace of a gazelle. She is a dream of enchantment. Every movement is a poem. I could worship her! I could spend my life at the feet of such a woman listening to the musical murmur of her heavenly voice.” “Look here, professor,” said Dick, “what is the matter with you?” “I’m enthralled, enchanted, enraptured by that woman.” “What woman?” “Why, the one we are talking about, Sarah Ann Ketchum, president of the Foreign Humanitarian Society, of Boston, Massachusetts. Who else could I be talking about?” “Oh, murder!” exploded Brad. “Wouldn’t that freeze you some!” Both boys laughed heartily, much to the displeasure of the professor. “Such uncalled-for mirth is unseemly,” he declared. “I don’t like it. It offends me very much. Besides, she may see you laughing, and that would harrow her sensitive soul.” “Professor, I didn’t think it of you!” said Dick, trying to check his merriment. “You are smashed on the lady from Boston—and you’re married. Have you forgotten that?”