"Whoa, Kate!" called Enberry to his mare, and pulled up opposite Professor Bailey's gate. Roger climbed to the seat, having first wrapped his precious crystals in a piece of paper before placing them in an inside pocket. "G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took to Kate in a loud voice. "She's a little deef," the driver explained, indicating his mare. "Gittin' wuss, too. Hev t' git her a ear trumpet soon, ef it keeps on. Look kinder queer, wouldn't it, a mare 'ith a ear trumpet?" "I think it would," replied Roger, smiling at the idea. "G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took again, and this time the mare started off at a slow pace. The two rode for a few minutes in silence. "Nice day," ventured Enberry at length. "Fine," assented Roger. "Goin' fer?" went on Mr. Took, flicking a fly from the mare's back. "Why, yes--er--that is--I don't know. I mean I can't say." "Wa'al, we'll git at it arter a while," laughed Enberry. "Which is it?" "Where are you going?" asked Roger, a sudden thought coming to him. "Syracuse. Why?" "That's where I'm going then." "Humph! Made up yer mind rather suddint," commented Enberry, with a grin. "But ye're welcome, all th' same. I won't be comin' back 'til rather late though, 'long about nine o'clock," he added. "That will suit me good enough," said Roger. "I'll tell you what it is," growing confidential, and knowing he could trust Mr. Took. "I want to go to Syracuse to find a chemist. I have something, and I want to find out what it is. I was going to ask Professor Bailey, but he has gone away, and I'm in a hurry. I don't s'pose you know of a man out to the city who could tell all about minerals and such things, do you?" "Ye say ye've got suthin' 'n' don't know what it is?" asked Mr. Took, with rather a puzzled look on his face. Roger nodded. "Then I know th' very place fer ye," said Enberry, suddenly. "Perfessor Bootsky 's th' man fer ye. He's a fortune teller. That's what ye want. He'll reveal th' past, present, 'n' future. I went t' him onct. Told me I'd hev bad luck inside of a month, 'n' I'll be gol-swizzled ef one a' my cows didn't up 'n' die on me. He's th' chap fer ye. Tell ye anythin' 'bout nothin' 'n' nothin' 'bout everythin', jest's ye like. I'll take ye t' him. G'lang, Kate!" and fired with sudden energy and enthusiasm, Mr. Took sent the mare along at a flying pace. "No! No!" exclaimed Roger, trying not to laugh. "No?" with a puzzled air, from Enberry. "I have something I want analyzed, to find out what sort of stuff it is," said Roger. "Hain't nobody been tryin' t' pizen ye, hev they?" asked Enberry, with a startled look. "I read 'bout a case like thet in th' papers onct. Feller most died from drinkin' well water. Had a green scum on it. Took it t' a perfessor, 'n' what d' he s'pose he said?" "What?" "Paris Green! G'lang, Kate!" "Oh, this is nothing like that," said Roger. "At least I do not believe what I have is poison." "And you want jest a ordinary chemist 'n' not a fortune teller, eh?" "I do."