54 THE FACE OF THE FIELDS 



"We had stopped. Here was Agassiz's house; 

 and not taking time to pick up the scattered 

 eggs, I tumbled out, and pounded at the door. 



"No one was astir in the house. But I would 

 stir them. And I did. Right in the midst of the 

 racket the door opened. It was the maid. 



" ' Agassiz,' I gasped, ' I want Professor Agas- 

 siz, quick ! ' And I pushed by her into the hall. 



" ' Go 'way, sir. I '11 call the police. Professor 

 Agassiz is in bed. Go 'way, sir.' 



" ' Call him — Agassiz — instantly, or I '11 call 

 him myself ! ' 



"But I didn't; for just then a door overhead 

 was flung open, a white-robed figure appeared 

 on the dim landing above, and a quick loud 

 voice called excitedly, — 



" ' Let him in ! Let him in ! I know him. He 

 has my turtle eggs ! ' 



"And the apparition, slipperless, and clad in 

 anything but an academic gown, came sailing 

 down the stairs. 



" The maid fled. The great man, his arms ex- 

 tended, laid hold of me with both hands, and 

 dragging me and my precious pail into his study, 

 with a swift, clean stroke laid open one of the 



