“He came here for a talk with me the day after his arrival. The subject of a lifework was pressing on him.
“‘Have you seen Zeb?’ was his first query.
“‘Zeb?’ I asked. ‘Who is Zeb?’
“‘That dear old, irrepressible bishop,’ said Harry. ‘They have dug him up and named him Zeb, and put him on a top shelf in the library. They think he is one of our great-grandfathers.’
“‘Oh, he has been promoted,’ I remarked.
“Harry went on:
“‘My dog is responsible for the reappearance of the bishop. I took him with me that night, and he knew where to find 156 it. Father is sure that it’s the head of old Zeb Delance.’
“‘Let the Bishop rest where he is,’ I suggested. ‘Now that he has converted you, he will probably let up. At least, let us hope that he will not worry you. Of course he will remind you of past follies every time you look at him, but that will do you no harm.’
“‘Oh, I couldn’t forget him! Father has been reading up on Zeb, and he does nothing but talk about him. He has learned that the Indians buried the head and burned the body of a victim.’
“‘He symbolizes the change in your taste. Zeb was a man of action––a worker. What do you propose to do now?’