“I want to go to Prof. Edric von Holsneck’s. Which is the best way, and will you get me a carriage?”
“Eh? What? I didn’t quite ‘catch on,’” was the reply.
Octave frowned. It was getting late, and she was anxious to get to her destination before it grew too dark for her to observe what Uncle Fritz called “her bearings.” She had a wild idea of taking a night-train back to the mountain; but if she should find that unadvisable she would have to look up a lodging place.
“I want to go to the house of Prof. von Holsneck,” said the girl, repeating her first statement with the distinctness known at The Snuggery as “Octave’s spunk.” “You certainly must know the residence of a man so famous.”
“Well, I don’t then. I know who he is and what he is; but where he lives I never took the trouble to find out. Why do you want to go there? He is a big feller, too busy to be bothered.”
Octave tossed her head with a movement of scorn, which she considered quite womanly. “I wish to see him on business. If—you don’t know anything about him, how am I going to find my way?”
“Easy enough. Look in the Directory.”
“Where will I find the ‘Directory?’” asked the girl, tapping her foot impatiently.
“In the drug store on the corner.”
Octave’s eyes followed the glance of the policeman, and, thanking him, she made her way to the place and pursued her inquiries. Very speedily she had possessed herself of all the needed information, and set out to visit the great scientist. An older and a wiser person would have hesitated long before intruding upon one so fully occupied as Prof, von Holsneck; but the girl had but one idea in her mind, and believed that the man she sought was the best one in the world to help her to her object. Why, then, should she not go to him? To her it appeared the most natural way, when one was in need, to apply at head-quarters for the assistance required; and she knew very well that in neither Europe nor America was there any one who could approach the professor in his special branch of knowledge.