Shall you see him, Mr. Cunningham?” asked Bernard.

“Yes; I have engaged you, to be sure, but after what you have told me of the professor, I am curious to interview him.”

“I shouldn’t like to have him see me. He might try to get me into his power.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be present and hear what he has to say?”

“Yes, if I could do so unobserved.”

“You can. There is an alcove curtained off from the main room. Go in there, and you can hear every word that passes between us.”

“Thank you, I shall like it very much.”

“You may tell the gentleman to come in,” said Walter Cunningham, addressing his servant.

The latter reappeared, followed by Professor Puffer, who bowed low to the young man from whom he sought a position.

“Professor Puffer?” said Cunningham inquiringly.

“I have that honor,” said Puffer. “I called about your advertisement for a traveling companion.”

“Do you know of any one whom you can recommend?”

“I would be glad to accept the position myself. What salary do you propose to give?”

“That will be a matter of negotiation after I have made my selection.”

“I only wanted to make sure that it would be worth my while to accept. As you may infer from my card I am a man of reputation,” and Professor Puffer swelled out his chest and assumed a look of dignity.

“I am glad to hear it. I consider it a compliment that a man of your standing should be willing to be my companion.”

“To tell the truth, Mr. Cunningham,” went on Puffer, “I was not sure till I saw you whether I should be willing, but now that I have seen you I have a strong desire to accompany you.”

“Appearances are deceitful, you know, professor.”

“I am willing to take the risk. How soon do you propose to start?”

“My dear sir, it seems to me you are going too fast. I have not yet selected you. I should like to ask you a few questions.”

“I shall have pleasure in answering, sir. Professor Puffer is always open and aboveboard.”

“That is well. May I ask where you have held the position of professor?”

“At the American University of Harvard. Doubtless you have heard of it.”

“Certainly.”

“I have also lectured at Cornell University.”

“On what subject?”

“Ahem! On antiquities.”

“Then that is your specialty?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Doubtless I should find your companionship very instructive.”

“You are kind to say so.”

“I don’t say so. I only say that from your account of yourself I should presume so. Of course I know of you only from your own statements. So you were a professor at Harvard University?”

“Yes, sir.”

“During what years?”

“I left there a year since, after serving for a term of five years.”

“That was a long period. Why did you leave, may I ask?”

“On account of my health. I labored so assiduously that it became seriously affected. My physician prescribed traveling for a year or more. My means are not large, partly because I have spent so much money on books and scientific research, and our salaries as professors were not munificent.”

“You have a large library?”

“About four hundred volumes,” answered Puffer promptly. “I think those books—many of them rare—must have cost over ten thousand dollars.”

“Where are they now?”

“I have stored them. I could not make up my mind to sell them.”

“What an old humbug!” thought Bernard, as he heard the professor’s statements in the security of the alcove.

“May I ask your age, Professor Puffer?”

Puffer hesitated, and finally answered, “I am forty-five.”

Walter Cunningham would have been surprised if he had put any confidence in the professor’s statements, as he looked at least ten years older.

“I asked because I am a young man, and though you are doubtless a man from whom I should gain instruction, I am in doubt as to whether your age would not be too great to make you a congenial companion.”

“My dear Mr. Cunningham,” said the professor with a genial smile, “I am not surprised to hear you say so. Forty-five no doubt seems very old to you, but I assure you I have a young heart and my company is prized by a great many young people. Why, only recently I was engaged as companion for a boy of sixteen.”

“Indeed! What was his name?”

“Bernard Brooks.”

“Did he seem happy in your company?”

“Yes, indeed! We were like brothers. He loved me dearly.”

Walter Cunningham had hard work to suppress a smile, and Bernard felt like choking with laughter.

“Old Puffer is a worse humbug than I supposed,” he said to himself. “How I should like to burst upon him after that big falsehood! Wouldn’t he look disconcerted!”

“Where is the boy now? I should like to see him.”

“He has left England with some friends of the family.”

“Was he sorry to part with you?”

“I don’t like to boast, but, big boy as he is, he shed tears at leaving me.”

“How was it that you gained such an ascendency over him?”

“I really can’t say. I am naturally fond of young people, and they take to me.”

“You think, then, that I should find you an agreeable companion?”

“My dear Mr. Cunningham, may I say Walter, give me a week and we should be like Damon and Pythias.”

“I suppose this boy Bernard was an attractive boy?”

“Very much so. Of course he had his faults—most boys have—but as long as he gave me his affection I was willing to overlook them.”

“That was very kind in you. I am afraid I have faults, too.”

“Very few, I am sure, Walter—excuse me, Mr. Cunningham.”

“Can you give me an idea of what you would regard as a satisfactory salary in case I engaged you?”

The professor brightened up. This looked encouraging.

“At Harvard I was paid three thousand dollars a year,” he said, “but then my duties were arduous. I instructed a large junior class, and gave lectures weekly to the seniors.”

“I hope you wouldn’t feel inclined to lecture me, professor.”

“Ha, ha! very good!” said Puffer, laughing heartily. “You will have your joke. However, I only mentioned this to explain why my salary was so large. Of course I shouldn’t expect nearly as much with you. If you paid my traveling expenses and a hundred dollars a month it would satisfy me. I am not expecting to save much in this my year of recreation.”

“I will consider your proposal. By the way, can you show me a catalogue of Harvard University with your name enrolled as professor?”

“I am really sorry, but I don’t happen to have a catalogue with me.”

“One of Cornell, where I understand you gave a course of lectures, will do.”

“I regret to say that I haven’t that either.”

“Of course I don’t doubt you, but it would be pleasant to have some confirmation of your statements.”

“My dear Mr. Cunningham, I hope you don’t doubt my word.”

“You know I have never met you before this morning. Perhaps you have some of the books you have published which you can show me.”

“I haven’t at present, but I may be able to pick one up in the London book stores.”

“Do so, and send it to me by messenger. I shall be too busy to see you for a week to come.”

“Do I understand,” asked the professor insinuatingly, “that you engage me as a traveling companion?”

“Don’t understand anything of the kind just now. Give me your address, and I will communicate with you.”.

“I am staying at the Brown Hotel, in Norfolk Street.”

“Very well, I will note it down.”

“I shall be glad to hear from you as soon as possible, as I have another position in view.”

“Very well, Professor Puffer. I won’t keep you waiting unduly.”

Professor Puffer bowed gracefully and retired. Then Bernard was called from his nook by Mr. Cunningham. He came out all smiles.

“It was as good as a play, Mr. Cunningham,” he said. “I am very glad the professor speaks so well of me. It is quite unexpected.”

“It seems you shed tears at leaving him.”

“If I did they were tears of joy.”

“I don’t know but I had better reconsider my decision and engage Professor Puffer instead of you.”

“If you really think you would like him better, Mr. Cunningham, you had better do so.”

“You are not very much afraid of it. Well, Bernard, I will tell you what I did not care to tell him. I mean to start away inside of a week, and I think you had better join me at this hotel, so that we may make preparations together.”

“I should like nothing better.”

“As to the salary—you have not inquired how much I am to pay you.”

“I am content to leave that to you.”

“Very well. The professor settled that matter. I will pay your traveling expenses and give you a hundred dollars a month.”

“But that is much more than I can earn,” said Bernard, in astonishment.

“Very probably. I give you a large salary out of friendship.”

Miss Smith, the schoolmistress, was delighted to hear of Bernard’s success. The next day he removed to Morley’s Hotel.