My nose frequently leads me to the good things of earth, and what I don't then see with my own eyes, the eyes in my case do." "I would give almost anything to be able to talk a blue streak the way you do," exclaimed Emma so earnestly that her companions nearly choked with laughter, and that left the Mystery Man with laughter instead of words on his lips.
"Yes, but greater even than the gift of gab, is the gift of 'con-centration,'" twinkled Jeremiah Long.
"How did you know about that ?" demanded Emma, looking her amazement.
"How did I know?
My dear young woman, the essence sent out by 'con-centration' is an imponderable quantity--" "Imponderable ?" wondered Miss Dean.

"I like that word, and, though I don't know what it means, it sounds good." "As I was saying, the waves sent out by your 'con-centrating' may have, like the wireless waves, been picked up by my own delicate mental mechanism and--" "In other words, Miss Dean overshot the mark she aimed at," interjected Hippy.
"Well, something like that, I should say," chuckled the Mystery Man.
"Is there anything you do not know ?" wondered Anne Nesbit.
"You are a mighty fortunate man, I should say," declared Hippy.

"Think what the result would have been had that 'imponderable quantity' hit you fair and square.

Why, it would have blown you to atoms--molecules and--" "Suppose we change the subject," suggested Grace Harlowe.

"Show us your wares, won't you, Mr.Long ?" The visitor got up, and, fetching his case, opened it, revealing great numbers of shining spectacles, beads and other shoddy adornments.
"We will now fit you to glasses, those of you who need them." "You, of course, know how to examine eyes ?" nodded Elfreda.
"Oh, no.