"I drew it in, you silly! I didn't want the whole world to see how foolish you are." She put her head from the window and called laughingly down: "We always have trouble with him like this, wakening him out of his usual hours. He'll be sane in a moment."
The Professor's head appeared again, this time minus the night-cap.
"Say, is this a serenade? On behalf of myself and my sister, and the great Republic we represent—— Oh, that you, Mr. Stamford? Where's your banjo? Isabel's window is the one over yours. Fancy you making a mistake like that!"
Even Dakota was laughing. Stamford failed to see the joke.
"It's all right, Professor," Cockney assured him. "We only wanted to make certain no one was alarmed. There was a slight disturbance in a herd of cattle. You can go back to bed."
"Thank you, Mr. Aikens. I won't leave that ladder out again. I wouldn't put it past those New York museum people to have spies on my track. They haven't in their whole collection such a——"
He sneezed, repeated it, doubled in volume and noise. The men beneath the window laughed openly.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Aikens, will you come round to my door. I never could stand the night air. Could I, Isabel?"