Book-shelves encircled the walls, and many and musty were the ancient volumes which jostled the modern authorities thereon. The further room, connecting the laboratory, was now in total darkness. But through the black open doorway came a soft musical burr-r-r-r-ing, whirr-r-r-r-r-ing. Now and then little sparkles of light crossed the black aperture. Bill beamed upon his guests. He tilted his hat back a bit further, then he took off his coat, his cuffs. He began to look like Business. Out of the big, wooden pail he lifted a long, slim, dark bottle. From his pocket he drew forth a corkscrew. The bottle he set on the table. The corkscrew he laid beside the bottle. Then he ranged three-wide-mouthed, slim-necked glasses side by side. “And here’s to us--later,”--he lightly remarked. But to such as Alonzo Leffingwell “Extra Dry” does not appeal. The Seer viewed the spread with something like scorn. Then he turned his attention to the connecting door. He riveted his gaze upon the open doorway of the darkened inner chamber. “I feel strangely drawn to that room,” he murmured to Imogene. “Well, I don’t,” she answered with emphasis. "Let’s go straight back--after the Mumm.” “Well, I should say--_NIT_”--and Bill playfully pushed her toward the room where the little sparkles flew across the blackness. “Come along Leff, we’re now ready to draw the first cork.” And reaching up, Bill Vanderhook pressed a button in the door-jamb. On the instant, in a flash, quicker than thought, without one word of apology or glance of farewell, the Illuminat of Illinois shot from the side of his Soul Mate, straight into that yawning doorway and was swallowed up in a sudden, blinding glare of light. CHAPTER X. A PRIVATE EXHIBIT. “Oh, Bill! Bill! Bill! What have you done?”--and a woman’s wild scream rent the atmosphere. And no wonder our heroine, standing there in the doorway, was upset. No wonder she clutched at her pompadour in frenzy. No wonder she shook like several leaves. The suddenness of her admirer’s departure was so very--in fact--sudden. After she had shrieked she leaned against the door-jamb, gazing incoherently at that which she saw. It was now Bill’s turn to laugh, and this he did, long, loud and uproariously. Then he shouted in a triumphant crescendo,--“Hi, there, my lady--catch onto the display. And well you may squeal at the sight of your old familiar pig-wheel. Dollars to doughnuts you never shackled as slim a one as this at the yard. Say, watch him. He’s in the swim sure, ain’t he? See him swing--round toward the sticker. That’s me. D’ye hear, madam? I’m the sticker in this yard. And he’s coming to the knife in fine style. Now watch me close, for he’s going to land against the point this time, and then--Aha! ha! ha!--and then--the last hot water plunge, and--” “Monster! monster!” sobbed the lady. Bill laughed again. “Oh, my Lonnie, my Llama!” wailed Mrs. V. And again Bill Vanderhook laughed.