"But that's not all," I continued, savagely. "Those women followed us, and who do you think one of them turned out to be? Well, it was Professor Smawl, of Barnard College, and I'll bet every pair of boots I own that she starts for the Graham Glacier within a week. Idiot that I was!" I exclaimed, smiting my head with both hands. "I never recognized her until I saw her tip-toeing and craning her neck to listen. Now she knows about the glacier; she heard every word that young ruffian said, and she'll go to the glacier if it's only to forestall me." Professor Lesard looked anxious. He knew that Miss Smawl, professor of natural history at Barnard College, had long desired an appointment at the Bronx Park gardens. It was even said she had a chance of succeeding Professor Farrago as president, but that, of course, must have been a joke. However, she haunted the gardens, annoying the keepers by persistently poking the animals with her umbrella. On one occasion she sent us word that she desired to enter the tigers' enclosure for the purpose of making experiments in hypnotism. Professor Farrago was absent, but I took it upon myself to send back word that I feared the tigers might injure her. The miserable small boy who took my message informed her that I was afraid she might injure the tigers, and the unpleasant incident almost cost me my position. "I am quite convinced," said I to Professor Lesard, "that Miss Smawl is perfectly capable of abusing the information she overheard, and of starting herself to explore a region that, by all the laws of decency, justice, and prior claim, belongs to me." "Well," said Lesard, with a peculiar laugh, "it's not certain whether you can go at all." "Professor Farrago will authorize me," I said, confidently. "Professor Farrago has resigned," said Lesard. It was a bolt from a clear sky. "Good Heavens!" I blurted out. "What will become of the rest of us, then?" "I don't know," he replied. "The trustees are holding a meeting over in the Administration Building to elect a new president for us. It depends on the new president what becomes of us." "Lesard," I said, hoarsely, "you don't suppose that they could possibly elect Miss Smawl as our president, do you?" He looked at me askance and bit his cigar. "I'd be in a nice position, wouldn't I?" said I, anxiously. "The lady would probably make you walk the plank for that tiger business," he replied. "But I didn't do it," I protested, with sickly eagerness. "Besides, I explained to her--" He said nothing, and I stared at him, appalled by the possibility of reporting to Professor Smawl for instructions next morning. "See here, Lesard," I said, nervously, "I wish you would step over to the Administration Building and ask the trustees if I may prepare for this expedition. Will you?"