“I remember reading about it in that fine old book, ‘Two Years Before the Mast,’” said Don. “I’m glad of the chance to see one of the tanneries.”
When they arrived at the mouldering tannery they dismounted and went inside, examining with interest this last relic of an ancient business. The buildings were made of rough logs, hauled for many miles to the coast, and some scraps of ancient hides still clung to the storage racks. The vats were still there, stained with many colors, and a heavy smell was still noticeable indoors. Outside they found the framework of the stretching racks.
“That certainly is interesting,” commented Jim. “You must tell your father, Ned. Perhaps he’ll want to come and look at the place.”
“We’ll tell him,” the young engineer nodded, as they resumed their journey.
Ned’s calculations were correct, for it was just noontime when they arrived at his ranch. They rode down the incline toward the house, which looked deserted. Ned whistled but there was no response.
“Maybe dad is still in bed,” he laughed, as he swung from his horse.
But when they went into the house the professor was not to be found. Nor was the cook around. Ned hurried to the barns and looked for Yappi, but in vain. As he hurried back to the house Don called to him.
“It’s all right, Ned,” Don said. “There is a note from him on the table. He has gone out looking for plant specimens.”
Ned hastened into the room, relief on his brown face, and took up the note. It was a simple message, worded as Don had explained, but as Ned read it his brow darkened.
“Look here,” he said, crisply. “Do you know what dad’s first name is?”