He was really a fine old man, but so wrapped up in his scientific experiments that he paid little attention to the world at large, or what was going on around him. He was very learned, but apt to be forgetful to the last degree. He lived alone, and it was reported that he had a goodly sum in the bank. Certainly he never seemed to want for funds, although his mode of living was far from extravagant. Barwell Dawson was placed in an easy-chair in the living apartment, and the professor busied himself in getting out some medicine and a liniment which he said would do much good. "Shall I start up the fire?" asked Andy, who saw that the blaze had been allowed to die down. "Why, yes, of course! I forgot all about the fire," answered Upham Jeffer. "You see, when I get interested in my experiments, I usually----" And then he stopped talking, being busy measuring some medicine in a glass. Andy stirred up the fire, and brought in some wood from a pile in a near-by shed. In the meantime Chet introduced Barwell Dawson to the old scientist. "Why, I know you, sir!" cried Mr. Dawson, as he looked closely at the professor. "Weren't you once up north--with the Welber Exploring Expedition?" "Why, yes, of course!" answered Professor Jeffer. "And you--it seems to me your face looks familiar. Why, yes, I have it now! You were up there at the same time, on a hunting trip." "You've struck it. I am glad to meet you again, Professor Jeffer." "I have forgotten your name, Mr.----" "Dawson--Barwell Dawson." "Ah, yes, of course! I remember it well now! Strange how I should forget. But you know I am so wrapped up in my experiments that I--but let us stop talking and attend to this ankle of yours. We'll wash it well with hot water, and pour on this liniment, and the swelling will soon go down. You see, the curative qualities of witch hazel, when combined with wintergreen and----" And then the professor stopped and went to work. Inside of half an hour Barwell Dawson's hurts had all been attended to, and he felt much better. The cuts on his head had stopped bleeding, and he insisted upon having the bandages removed. "I'm not such a baby as you think," he said. "I'll be all right by tomorrow, watch and see. All I want is a good smoke to cure me," and he lit his briar-root pipe. "I'll be glad to hear it," answered Andy. "Nevertheless, don't imagine that I don't appreciate what you two lads have done for me," went on Mr. Dawson, earnestly. "It was a fine thing to do, and I'll not forget it in a hurry."