“I intend to remain some time on this side of the ocean,” I told him. “I always liked Saxlehner, and simply wished to meet him again. He was the only man who seemed to understand me and naturally we’re congenial.” “No harm in looking up the Professor,” he said. “I always thought Saxlehner a mighty shrewd fellow and his advice worth heeding. Hunt him up, by all means; splendid idea.” Then Middleton scowled fiercely while I roared. A slip of the tongue and the word was sounded that he always avoided when I was within earshot. Idea, idea, idea. Ah, for a brilliant one! Middleton’s chagrin was amusing. Several days later early one morning I and a pair of thoroughbreds speeded toward the suburbs in search of my old friend Saxlehner. I reined up in front of a little old cottage of one floor, cellar and attic. The little front garden was overgrown with tall pink flowers and huge yellow ones with broad green leaves. The gate hung upon one hinge because it liked to, and had to be coaxed to open wide enough to admit one. There was a narrow, graveled path leading up to an olive green door, ornamented with a tarnished brass knocker in the form of a lion’s head with a ring through its nose. And here in these parts so peaceful and sunny, old Saxe. had buried himself with his colossal ideas. I strode up to the olive door, and used the knocker several times with noisy effect. My summons were certainly heard throughout the house and several blocks beyond, but all remained calm, peaceful, no sign of a living creature anywhere. I stepped out to examine the premises and discovered smoke issuing from the chimney, so tried my luck again with a series of startling knocks. I heard footsteps, quick, jerky, irritated footsteps; bolts were snappishly drawn and the door opened violently; there stood Saxe., red and angry, enveloped from head to foot in a huge apron, sleeves rolled up, and armed with a fork. “Well, young man,” he bawled, “might have known I didn’t want to be bothered; what d’ye want?” Same old Saxe., cross and lovable as ever. I took off my hat and stood smiling at him. He scowled fiercely for a second, then gasped: “Salucci! ’pon my soul! Why, it’s Salucci!” He grabbed and drew me into the hall, gazing at me in astonishment, chuckling softly. In a second we were wringing each other’s hands as though for a wager. “Never expected to see you again, my boy,” he told me; “thought you’d forgotten old Saxe. completely. Stay awhile?” “Might as well,” I answered. “Good boy!” he laughed. “But, say, send away that wagon out there, the whole neighborhood’ll think I’m sick and you the doctor.” Saxe. really looked uneasy. I did as he wished, then he took me straight to his little kitchen. “Getting up dinner,” he explained. “The reason I’m still a man is because I look after my digestion and live well.” Upon a huge range were several small pots bubbling, and Saxe. went to work like a veteran.