The letter that started me--I was going to say startled me, but only
imaginative people are startled--the letter, then, that started me
from Bronx Park to the South I print without the permission of my
superior, Professor Farrago. I have not obtained his permission, for
the somewhat exciting reason that nobody knows where he is. Publicity
being now recognized as the annihilator of mysteries, a benevolent
purpose alone inspires me to publish a letter so strange, so
pathetically remarkable, in view of what has recently occurred.

As I say, I had only just returned from Java with a valuable
collection of undescribed isopods--an order of edriophthalmous
crustaceans with seven free thoracic somites furnished with fourteen
legs--and I beg my reader's pardon, but my reader will see the
necessity for the author's absolute accuracy in insisting on detail,
because the story that follows is a dangerous story for a scientist to
tell, in view of the vast amount of nonsense and fiction in
circulation masquerading as stories of scientific adventure.

I was, therefore, anticipating a delightful summer's work with pen and
microscope, when on April 1st I received the following extraordinary
letter from Professor Farrago:

"IN CAMP, LITTLE SPRITE LAKE, "EVERGLADES, FLORIDA, March 15, 1902.

"MY DEAR MR. GILLAND,--On receipt of this communication you
will immediately secure for me the following articles:

"One complete outfit of woman's clothing.
"One camera.
"One light steel cage, large enough for you to stand in.
"One stenographer (male sex).
"One five-pound steel tank, with siphon and hose attachment.
"One rifle and ammunition.
"Three ounces rosium oxyde.
"One ounce chlorate strontium.