The San Francisco call., 1904-11-11
BY TROY ALLISON.

THERE was something on the pro-
! fessor's mind. Every young
! woman in the senior Greek class
realized it. He had shown symptoms
of 1t for three weeks, but this morn
ing it had assumed the form of an
undeniable fact. When the shy girl
of the class got ratified and construed
present infinitive as past participle
he did not even notice it.
This same shy little Ruth Payne
mad assumed the proportions of a
problem to Professor Claxton. The
girl never gave a decent recitation,
yet passed her examinations with the
RICHEST marks. He had tried not to
harbor suspicion that she resorted
TO unfair means on examinations, but
ne could think of nothing else that
would solve the mystery.
Ihe professors mind, however, was
agitated by a more complicated prob
lem than Ruth Payne's poor recita-
tlons in Greek. He had a guilty con-
science. He felt that each and every
pair OF feminine eyes before him were
searchhghts turned upon his secret.
he was convinced that each young
woman knew there was a package of
Ielters IN his vest pocket. Of course
1elters are commonplace, in a way,
and something any man might inno-
Gently possess, but these were anony-
nous. That was enough to make him
turn crimson, but the knowledge that
he had enjoyed reading these letters
ard, moreover, had actually mailed
answers to the address given, hung
Z h i'm
there had, at various times in the
worlds history been other anonymous
letters. Really to receive them was
different matter. Ownership lends
a certain definite interest.
Inc professor constantly remem-
bered the first Of these letters. He
had walked leisurely to the postoffice
after the early supper, unconscious of
impending fate. The college town
was a small one, and it lent variety
10 lie to own postoflce box and go
Tor ones mail, rather than have it
sent by the college carrier.
On that memorable night he had
taken his letters and looked them over
HstIessly until he came to the one
that was the proverbial bombshelI in
MS experience. He read it over three
times before his astonished faculties
were able to grasp the fact that there
was a woman, an unknown woman.
who professed an admiration for him
lie was not quite sure that it was
exactly respectable to have an un-
known woman write him letter. and
his pedantic soul knew that if it did
not go beyond the bounds of respecta-
/ bility, it at least must be called an
improperly. The first letter troubled
his peace of mind for days. 1t was
witty and bright, and contained lust
that delicate soupcon of fattery that
charms the man who believes he
abominates hattery.
Had not she insinuated that she
had met him occasionally and had
been struck with the idea that he pos
sessed a depth of understanding it
would be interesting to fathom
She further stated she was at that
time leading so quiet and restricted a
/ life that she was at loss for some
! real intellectual interest. His mind
Immediately pictured the sister of the
president of the college, who was
spending a quiet winter in the small
/ village for the sake of her health.
/ Yet it seemed impossible that a wo-
man of so much dignity and reserve
/ could take such a step, even for
amusement.
After pondering over the matter
several days, carefully and methodi-
cally, according to his custom, he had
hesitated and been lost. He had an
swered that letter The address given
was in a neighboring city, and ne had
found himself going to the postoffice