"You'd like some steak?" exclaimed Mrs. Cobb, in surprise. "I never heerd of people havin' steak to treat callers on. I don't b'lieve there's a bit in the house. I s'pose you do git awful sick of the food they have over to the 'cademy. Now, if you was a married man, and hed a wife to cook for ye——"
"I say I think there is a mistake in this matter."
"Beefsteak in a platter? Yes, that's a good way to serve it."
The little professor gave a gasp, and collapsed onto the sofa. And Frank promptly jabbed a hatpin up through the sofa, so that it penetrated the professor to a distance of about a quarter of an inch.
CHAPTER XXII.
A LIVELY CALL.
"Whoop!" roared the big voice of the little man, and Professor Scotch shot into the air like a jumping-jack out of a box. "Wow!" he howled, clutching convulsively at that part of his person which had felt the hatpin. "What did I sit down on?"
The widow looked frightened, and Professor Jenks looked astonished.
"What did I sit down on?" repeated Professor Scotch, his red hair bristling with anger.