trustees have—ah—decided to pay you a salary for—ah—staying away from school. Why don't you go to Switzerland yourself, and prove that Corker is a fool? Don't worry about the school," seeing that I was about to protest; "we'll miss you, but we'll get along. Yes, yes, Sugarloaf will get along."
"It's the money I was thinking of," I said. "If you could pay my expenses for the trip, as well as continuing my salary—"
"It's blackmail," murmuerd Harrell, with something akin to awe in his voice.
"What's that?" I asked.
"I was saying that the trustees will be—ah—delighted," said Harrell. "Could you leave today?"
And so, with the enthusiastic farewells of Sugarloaf ringing gratifyingly in my ears, I set out for Switzerland.
CHAPTER II
Wherein the Termitarium Reveals a Secret
IN sensitive souls such as mine, a long sea voyage is bound to produce uncomfortable reflections; especially when, as on my September crossing from New York City to Cherbourg, the water is rough. I was relieved, therefore, to see Plymouth drop behind and, later, the low coast-line of France take possession of the forward horizon. After some difficulty with the customs officers, brought on by the French people's marked degeneration in pronunciation of their language since I studied it forty-five years ago, I found myself in a second-class carriage bound for Paris, Lucerne, and Munster.
I shall not trouble you with the details of the trip, or with chubby Corker's grudging welcome when I finally arrived. Suffice it that I had time in plenty' to puzzle over the circumstance that had set down a semi-modern termitarium—for that it was such, I had no doubt—in the greenish sandstone of the Molasse; and I paused only for my afternoon nap, which none but a fool will do without, before leaving camp to examine the find.
At first glance I recognized that the nest could have been built only by Termitidae; I had seen nothing comparable to it save among the shelters of the Termite Bellicosus of South Africa. It was roughly the shape of a sugar loaf, surmounted by a broad cap, and was distinguished principally by its gigantic size. From peak to foundation it measured a full eighty-five feet.
Corker offered no comment as I entered the sloping pit his men had dug, and mounted the great hillock; but a malicious grin crossed his face (which always has reminded me of a bird's, the nose being pointed, the cheeks full, and the head set well forward on the shoulders, when I asked what progress had been made in gutting it.
"You are the entomologist," said he, winking in the infernal fashion he adopts for purposes of annoyance. "I'm only a poor student of paleontology. I am quite willing to leave further explorations to my betters."
I ignored his impertinence, but soon found the reason for it. The termitarium was impenetrable by any of the instruments at hand. Dynamite produced no crack on its milky surface; nor did nitro-glycerin, after we had transported that nasty and nerve-wracking explosive all the way from Lucerne.
