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With the roaring in my ears I sprang up, staring into the forest vista, and at the same instant, out of the crashing forest, sped Professor Smawl, skirts tucked up, thin legs flying like bicycle-spokes. I shouted, but the crashing drowned my voice.
We followed the terrible tornado-path which the mammoth had left in its wake, but there were no traces of its human victims neither one jot of Professor Smawl nor one solitary tittle of William Spike.
Any excuse for not complying with these orders will be accepted as your resignation. "SUSAN SMAWL, "President Bronx Zoological Society." "Lesard!" I shouted, trembling with fury. He appeared at his door, chastely draped in pajamas; and he read the insolent letter with terrified alacrity. "What are you going to do resign?" he asked, much frightened. "Do!"
She called to Professor Smawl to join her, and her voice was crystalline; Professor Smawl declined, and her voice was batrachian. "She is so hungry!" observed Miss Van Twiller. "I am very thankful we are here at last, for we've had a horrid time. You see, we neither of us know how to cook."
It was quite natural for me to wish to secure my position before the new president was elected especially as there was a chance of the new president being Miss Smawl. "You are quite right," he said; "the Graham Glacier would be the safest place for you if our next president is to be the Lady of the Tigers." And he started across the park puffing his cigar.
However, anybody, I fancy, is at liberty to speculate upon the fate of the late Professor Smawl and William Spike, and upon the mules and the gentle dingue.
"Madam," said I, rigid with disappointment, "my guide, William Spike, entered that unknown land a year ago." "He says he did," sneered Professor Smawl. "As you like," I replied; "but it is scarcely generous to forestall the person whose stupidity gave you the clew to this unexplored region." "You mean yourself?" she asked, with a stony stare. "I do," said I, firmly.
Professor Smawl complained of the cooking, demanded my resignation, and finally marched out to explore, lugging the reluctant William with her. Dorothy and I sat down behind the largest tree we could find. I don't remember what we were saying when a peculiar sound interrupted us, and we listened earnestly.
By this pallid light I labored to strike the two empty tents, gather up our equipments and pack them on our five mules. Dorothy aided me bravely, whimpering when I spoke of Professor Smawl and William Spike, but abating nothing of her industry until we had the mules loaded and I was ready to drive them, Heaven knows whither.
"I can taste the feathers!" said Professor Smawl, indignantly. "There is no accounting for taste," I said, with a polite gesture of deprecation; "personally, I find feathers unpalatable." "You may hand in your resignation this evening!" cried Professor Smawl, in hollow tones of passion. I passed her the pancakes with a cheerful smile, and flippantly pressed the hand next me.
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