“I don’t want it, myself,” murmured Ned, as he moved somewhat away from the little green box.
“Well, now that I have given them food enough to last until we land, I hope, I will go on,” resumed the doctor. “As I was going to say, you are much mistaken if you think that Professor Snodgrass and I are enemies.”
Ned started.
“Well,” he said slowly, “if you are a friend of his you take a very queer way of showing it.”
“Professional feeling, my dear boy! Professional feeling; that’s all. Call it jealousy, if you like,” said Dr. Hallet, with something like a chuckle. “As a matter of fact, both he and I are working along the same lines to benefit humanity, and if I said anything harsh against him——”
“Which you certainly did!” interrupted Ned.
“Well, it was in a Pickwickian sense only—merely Pickwickian,” and this time the doctor laughed. “You have read Dickens, I dare say?” he went on.
“Yes,” admitted Ned. “I know my Pickwick Papers.”
“Then you’ll understand. As a matter of fact, Professor Snodgrass is my very dear friend, and we are mutually, though perhaps in a rival manner, seeking the same certain end.”