“Gentlemen,” urged the Professor deprecatingly, “I beg you not to fall into any error. There is some mistake here. It is true I wrote a work on political economy, but far from making me famous, it cost me my position as one of the Faculty at the Chicago University. As for my investigations in science, whatever might have been the result, practically it was nothing, since at the critical moment I--I disappeared!” “Mistake, eh!” cried the Colonel, eagerly interposing; “we will see about that!” And he hurried away to another part of the library, returning a moment later with a big encyclopedia. “What do I find here?” he asked, consulting the index and rapidly turning over the pages. “Ah, here it is! ‘Walter Stuart Dean, political economist, scientist and inventor; born at Springfield, Illinois, 1857, of poor but honest parents. Studied in the public schools and afterward at the University of Bonn, Germany, from which he graduated, 1880, with high honors. Filled the Chair of Professor of Sciences at the University of Chicago, 1890-1900, from which he retired owing to political persecution. Wrote several famous works on political economy and the economic conditions of the period; also a number of notable scientific treatises. His mysterious disappearance in 1900 was one of the sensations of the day. The date of his death and place of burial are unknown.’ Now, sir, what do you say to that?” exclaimed the Colonel, tapping with his index finger upon the page before him. “Do you still think there is any mistake?” “Hooray!” cried Kearns triumphantly, waving his hand in the air. “This is indeed a case of a man waking up to find himself famous. I congratulate you, Professor.” “Let me add my felicitations,” said Dr. O’Hanlenne. “And mine!” declared the Colonel. “Thank you,” replied the Professor, with the air of a man somewhat dazed. “And now,” exclaimed the Colonel, “having solidly ensconced you in your respective niches of fame, let us continue our original line of research. Let us see if in these newspapers there is any account of your mysterious disappearance.” “Quite so,” said Dr. O’Hanlenne. “June tenth,” began the Colonel, turning the paper, “no use looking on that date. June the eleventh. Ah! here we are. Phew! your disappearance did make a stir and your papers of that day understood the art of working up a sensation. See the great black headlines: ‘Triple Tragedy! Death Amid the Lightning and the Storm. Mysterious Disappearances of a Famous New Yorker and his Companion. The Whole Countryside engaged in Organized Search for the Missing Ones.’ Well, well, well, gentlemen! What more could you ask than that?”