Roy Norton

“ His hands, that I was later to learn were so practical, strong, and capable, were concealed beneath a heavy pair of expensive dog-hide gloves, and they held a cane of twisted elephant hide that immediately arrested my scrutiny. In fact, I looked at the walking stick with a sharp sense of recognizing something familiar before my eyes lifted to his monocle; to his strong face; to the graying beard that, well trimmed, concealed a combative, stubborn, resolute chin.
“Why the thanks?” said I, disturbed. “It’s nothing. I always kick a man who kicks a dog—unwarranted. ”

“ Mr. Wardrop, Doctor Morgano, of whom you have doubtless heard as a distinguished archæologist, believes he has discovered the key to the hieroglyphics sculptured upon the ruins in Guatemala and Yucatan, which, as you also doubtless know, have been unsolvable mysteries heretofore. He—pardon, Doctor Morgano, let me finish, please! As I was about to say, Mr. Wardrop, the doctor wishes to go there to conduct his investigations. He confided in me because he thinks he might need the services of some one a trifle more accustomed to exploration, travel, jungles, snakes, Indians, et cetera, than he is. ”

“ I wasn’t certain that Doctor Morgano was anything other than a fairly harmless old lunatic who, while sincere, was fooling himself. Suddenly the thought entered my mind that it might be best for Wardrop to talk with the archæologist and draw his own conclusions. First, there would be some sport in seeing these two together, and, second, if anything came of it, I couldn’t be held to blame.
“The truth is,” I said, “that it is rather beyond my authority to arrange this expedition. It originated in the mind of Doctor Paolo Morgano. ”

“ He betrayed more interest than hitherto, which made me believe that up to that time he had been merely paying what he considered to be Monty’s indebtedness, but was now curious concerning myself. He fixed me with that monocle of his and then suddenly leaned back and chuckled.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Who’d have thought it! You’re the man I saw at Niobrara—the man with the magnificent red whiskers that flowed down around his chest. Same man! Man with the red whiskers! Can’t be mistaken. ”

“ A man who sees nothing that he can not touch, handle, barter, or throw aside. But—ah, forgeeve me, friend!” he cried, suddenly rushing toward me. “It is the heart of gold but with the head that sees no visions! The practical man. ”

“ I think he was vastly distressed when I explained that there were many things to be thought of and arranged; many purchases to be made; much knowledge to be acquired before we could start. Also that steamships didn’t run daily to the Isthmian coasts and ports. I was glad of an excuse to get away from him, and accompanied Wardrop down the stairs and to a quiet retreat where I could tell him all that I knew of the quest, of Doctor Morgano’s discovery. ”