"'I know it! He does it all by himself for the pure pleasure of it. Papa has engaged him to come down here for two weeks, and I dread it,' said the girl. "What Professor Holroyd might want of Frisby I had not the faintest notion. I suppose Miss Holroyd noticed the bewilderment in my face, for she laughed and nodded her head twice. "'Not only Mr. Frisby, but Captain McPeek also,' she said. "'You don't mean to say that Captain McPeek is going to close his hotel!' I exclaimed. "My trunk was there. It contained guarantees of my respectability. "'Oh no; his wife will keep it open,' replied the girl. 'Look! you can see papa now. He's digging.' "'Where?' I blurted out. "I remembered Professor Holroyd as a prim, spectacled gentleman, with close-cut, snowy beard and a clerical allure. The man I saw digging wore green goggles, a jersey, a battered sou'wester, and hip-boots of rubber. He was delving in the muck of the salt meadow, his face streaming with perspiration, his boots and jersey splashed with unpleasant-looking mud. He glanced up as we approached, shading his eyes with a sunburned hand. "'Papa, dear,' said Miss Holroyd, 'here is Jack's friend, whom you bailed out of Mazas.' "The introduction was startling. I turned crimson with mortification. The professor was very decent about it; he called me by name at once. Then he looked at his spade. It was clear he considered me a nuisance and wished to go on with his digging. "'I suppose,' he said, 'you are still writing?' "'A little,' I replied, trying not to speak sarcastically. My output had rivalled that of 'The Duchess'--in quantity, I mean. "'I seldom read--fiction,' he said, looking restlessly at the hole in the ground. "Miss Holroyd came to my rescue. "'That was a charming story you wrote last,' she said. 'Papa should read it--you should, papa; it's all about a fossil.' "We both looked narrowly at Miss Holroyd. Her smile was guileless. "'Fossils!' repeated the professor. 'Do you care for fossils?' "'Very much,' said I. "Now I am not perfectly sure what my object was in lying. I looked at Daisy Holroyd's dark-fringed eyes. They were very grave. "'Fossils,' said I, 'are my hobby.' "I think Miss Holroyd winced a little at this. I did not care. I went on: "'I have seldom had the opportunity to study the subject, but, as a boy, I collected flint arrow-heads--" "'Flint arrow-heads!' said the professor coldly. "'Yes; they were the nearest things to fossils obtainable,' I replied, marvelling at my own mendacity. "The professor looked into the hole. I also looked. I could see nothing in it. 'He's digging for fossils,' thought I to myself. "'Perhaps,' said the professor, cautiously, 'you might wish to aid me in a little research--that is to say, if you have an inclination for fossils.' The double-entendre was not lost upon me.