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Updated: June 12, 2025
The truth, the stark naked truth, the truth without so much as a loin-cloth on, should surely be the investigator's sole aim when, having discovered a new set of facts, he undertakes to present them to the consideration of the scientific world. Of course Aino tales, like other tales, may also be treated from a literary point of view.
We have not yet shown you the message which we found in the Investigator's lifeboat, so that if you will get it, Harry, you may be able to tell us something about it." This was the little slip of paper which had on it the following inscription: "We cannot hold out much longer. Wright and Walters were captured yesterday. Will." Harry handed it to him, and he looked at it for some time.
It was with a feeling of intense satisfaction that Flinders took possession of his comfortable cabin on the Porpoise, for he was looking forward to an agreeable rest after the hardships he had undergone. The quarter-deck was taken up by a greenhouse protecting the plants collected on the Investigator's voyage, and designed for the King's garden at Kew.
"Since when did you learn to pry into an investigator's private memoranda," said the Voice; and two chins struck the table simultaneously, and two sets of teeth rattled. "Since when did you learn to invade the private rooms of a man in misfortune?" and the concussion was repeated. "Where have they put my clothes?" "Listen," said the Voice.
Emma Dean laid her hand familiarly on the great investigator's shoulder. "Don't be too sure that I'm all at sea. I have a theory." Elfreda put on a preternaturally wise expression. "We'll hear it at once," returned Emma briskly. "Not to-night. I have other weightier problems on my mind. I have been asked to solve the campus mystery." "Campus mystery!" exclaimed several voices. "What is it?"
Granice had known Robert Denver for fifteen years watched his rise through all the stages of journalism to the Olympian pinnacle of the Investigator's editorial office. In the thick-set man with grizzling hair there were few traces left of the hungry-eyed young reporter who, on his way home in the small hours, used to "bob in" on Granice, while the latter sat grinding at his plays.
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