And almost before they had stammered their confused farewells, he had waved to them and lumbered off.
"Well!" said Lynn. "I must say that's the quickest brush-off I ever got ... if not the smoothest."
"Horticultural experiment," mused Rocky. "Mmm-hmmm! It's possible, of course, but ... I wonder. Bud ... er ... I mean, Ambrose—"
"Yeah?" said Ambrose.
"I think I'll stay here in New Boston for a few more hours. I'd like to ... er ... study the native quarters. Perhaps you would be kind enough to escort Miss Graham back to the Fort?"
"Certainly," nodded Bud. "A pleasure. But—"
Lynn Graham had been staring from one to the other of the two men querulously. Now she declared herself. "Oh, no!" she stated flatly. "You don't get rid of me so easily as all that. Doctor Roswell—just what's going on here?"
Rocky fumbled for his glasses.
"Er ... going on, Miss Graham? I don't understand—"
"Neither do I—which is just why I'm asking. First Grossman goes into a mild panic; now you two are acting like the masked strangers in Act Two. Not to mention the fact—" the girl pointed out shrewdly—"that for a few minutes you quite forgot to talk like a college professor ... and addressed your alleged 'valet' as 'Bud'—"