Tom passed it over, and the old gentleman now had two books open before him.
“Have you got page twenty-one?” he asked Tom, as he bent close over the opened books.
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there anything on it about the ancient Hickhites having used belladonna in fevers?”
“No,” answered Tom slowly, as he read down the page. “This seems to be an account of how to make a fruit cake.”
“A fruit cake! What do you mean?”
“This is a cook book, sir,” replied Tom.
“A cook book! Goodness me! I must have picked up the wrong memoranda when I hurried from the house.”
He rapidly searched through his pockets, and produced a crumpled piece of paper.
“That’s what I did,” he announced. “I picked up a memoranda made out by my sister-in-law. It’s about buying a new cook book she saw advertised. My memoranda was on the use of belladonna among the ancient Hickhites. I differed from a certain historian, and I wanted to look it up. I have taken her memoranda, and left mine. Well, well, I must be losing my memory. I’m sorry I bothered you.”