"You know, Mr. Gilland, how dangerous to the reputation of a scientific man is any line of investigation into the unusual. If a man once is even suspected of charlatanism, of sensationalism, of turning his attention to any phenomena not strictly within the proper pale of scientific investigation, that man is doomed to ridicule; his profession disowns him; he becomes a man without honor, without authority. Is it not so?" "Yes," I said. "Therefore," he resumed, thoughtfully, "as I do most firmly believe in the course I am now pursuing, whether I succeed or fail I desire a true and minute record made, hiding nothing of what may be said or done. A stenographer alone can give this to the world, while I can only supplement it with a description of events--if I live to transcribe them." Sunk in profound reverie he sat there silent under the great, smooth palm-tree--a venerable figure in his yellow dressing-gown and carpet slippers. Seated side by side, we waited, a trifle awed. I could hear the soft breathing of the pretty stenographer beside me. "First of all," said Professor Farrago, looking up, "I must be able to trust those who are here to aid me." "I--I will be faithful," said the girl, in a low voice. "I do not doubt you, my child," he said; "nor you, Gilland. And so I am going to tell you this much now--more, I hope, later." And he sat up straight, lifting an impressive forefinger. "Mr. Rowan, lately an officer of our Coast Survey, wrote me a letter from the Holland House in New York--a letter so strange that, on reading it, I immediately repaired to his hotel, where for hours we talked together. "The result of that conference is this expedition. "I have now been here two months, and I am satisfied of certain facts. First, there do exist in this unexplored wilderness certain forms of life which are solid and palpable, but transparent and practically invisible. Second, these living creatures belong to the animal kingdom, are warm-blooded vertebrates, possess powers of locomotion, but whether that of flight I am not certain. Third, they appear to possess such senses as we enjoy--smell, touch, sight, hearing, and no doubt the sense of taste. Fourth, their skin is smooth to the touch, and the temperature of the epidermis appears to approximate that of a normal human being. Fifth and last, whether bipeds or quadrupeds I do not know, though all evidence appears to confirm my theory that they walk erect. One pair of their limbs appear to terminate in a sort of foot--like a delicately shaped human foot, except that there appear to be no toes. The other pair of limbs terminate in something that, from the single instance I experienced, seemed to resemble soft but firm antennae or, perhaps, digitated palpi--" "Feelers!" I blurted out.