"You see here the value of keeping notes of everything," he panted, on
reaching Bart--"nothing is lost in this world, however small. Here we
are: 'County at large.' Now then, in my private notes: 'Allessandro'
uncommon name--'look up--probably Greek.' 'Alaric, Altemus, Artemas,
Benno, Borl, Bud--derived from Budlongor, Budmeister--Buck'--I've got
it: 'Buckingham, last name Tolliver, residence: Millville, occupation
none.' Hold on. We've got the clew--now for the town record."
The Professor again flitted away to the house, and darted back again
with a new volume in his hand.
"Here you are!" he cried, selecting a printed page. "'Millville,
population two hundred and sixty, not on railroad. R.S.T. Tappan,
Tevens, Tolliver'--Ah, 'Buckingham Tolliver, Henry Tolliver,' must be
brothers, I fancy. That's all I've got on record. Information any use to
you?"
"Is it?" cried Bart, in profound admiration of the old bookworm's
system. "Professor, you are the wisest man and one of the best men I
ever met!"
CHAPTER XVIII
A DUMB FRIEND
At three o'clock that afternoon Bart Stirling sat down to rest at the
side of a dusty country road, pretty well tired out, and about ready to
return to Pleasantville.
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