“They can’t be.”
“But look here: you can’t go to Egypt now, and you could to Nineveh. Have a trip there, and I’ll go with you.”
“You will, Bob?” cried Landon excitedly.
“I will, Fred, on my word.”
“Then we will, Bob,” said the professor enthusiastically. “We’ll start and— No, we won’t. Egypt is my motto, and much as I should like to have you for a companion, no, sir, no. As the old woman said, ‘Wild horses sha’n’t drag me from my original plans and unfinished work.’ I must get back to the sand. I’d give anything to be there digging.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the doctor. “After all, it is a nasty, ghoulish business: moleing in the old tombs and unrolling mummies.”
“It may seem so to you, but to me it is intensely interesting. Besides, much as you condemn it, this is the only way to find out the history—the manners and customs of the people two and three thousand years ago.”
“The bell!” exclaimed the doctor. “I hope no poor creature wants me to-night.”
“So do I,” said Landon, “for my own sake as well as for his or hers. I wanted a long chat with you as soon as this tiresome dinner is at an end.”
“Hark,” said the doctor. “Some one has come in. Yes, I’m wanted, and— Hullo, Frank, my dear boy, how are you?” he cried, as a youthful-looking young man, who appeared flushed and excited, threw open the door without waiting to be announced, and strode in, to nod to first one and then the other.