On his second round he discovered the visitor
whom he sniffed with increasing excitement.
Donald raised a forefinger, and tapped his knee. In an instant Mike
remembered. Lifting his fore-paws, and dropping his head upon them, he
answered the call to prayer.
Two pairs of eyes met involuntarily, and the owners smiled.
"Do put him out, my dear," urged the Doctor, who had stooped to pick
up the scattered sheets of his manuscript. "This is the last volume of
my series, Donald. You remember I was collecting data for it when you
were at the university. I had expected to publish it this spring, but
it will have to be postponed now."
Donald winced. "On account of the bank failure, I suppose?"
"Well, yes. Basil advises a curtailment of all expenditure for the
present. However, it may be just as well to publish in the fall. That
will give me three more months on the revision."
"I hope you were not seriously involved, Doctor?"
"No, no, I imagine not," said the Doctor vaguely as he made a marginal
correction on one of the sheets. "Basil and I have been so much
occupied that we have scarcely had a chance to discuss the matter.
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