Ned, Bob and Jerry tumbled out of the automobile in such haste that it might have been called a “dead heat,” to use a sporting term. They made a rush for the little man standing at the side of the road near the path of light from the automobile lamps.
“Professor Snodgrass!” cried Jerry.
“Is it really you?” demanded Ned.
“Our good luck has started!” was Bob’s contribution to the general fund.
As for the little man in the road, he did not seem to know what to do or say.
“I beg your pardons, young gentlemen,” he said. “Are you students from Boxwood Hall, or from the military academy here? I see you have a machine, and if you are from Boxwood Hall I would ask that——”
“We’re not from Boxwood, but we want to go there!” cried Jerry. “Don’t you know us, Professor Snodgrass? Take a look!”
He whirled the little man around into the light so he could look at the three chums. Then a great change came over the professor’s face.
“Why—why—why, it’s the motor boys!” he cried. “Ned, Bob and Jerry! Bless my soul! But I am glad to see you! What are you doing here? I thought you were coming to Boxwood Hall, and I find you at the gates of the military academy.”
“It’s all a mistake, Professor! It’s all a mistake! It’s all wrong!” laughed Jerry. “It’s too long a story to tell now, but we’ll give it to you by degrees. We’ve been ever since the early morning traveling from Cresville here, and more things have happened than you could shake a stick at. But how comes it you are over here?”