“Hurrah for the United States!” exclaimed Bob. “Now I can get a decent meal without having to swallow red peppers, onions and chocolate!”
“There goes Chunky again,” laughingly complained Ned. “No sooner does he land than he wants to feed his stomach. I believe if he had been with Christopher Columbus the first thing he would have inquired about on landing at San Salvador would be what the Indians had good to eat.”
“Oh you’re as bad as I am, every bit!” said Bob.
Eagle’s Pass, where the travelers landed, was a typical Texas town, with what passed for a hotel, a store and a few houses where the small population lived. It was on the edge of the border prairies and the outlying districts were occupied by cattle ranches.
Nearly all, if not quite all, of the male population came down to the dock to see the unusual sight of a big touring automobile on the ferry boat. Many were the comments made by the ranchmen and herders.
After much pulling and hauling the car was rolled from the big scow, and the travelers, glad to feel that they were once more in their own country, began to think of a place to spend the night.
“Where is the nearest hotel?” asked Jerry of a man in the crowd.
“Ain’t but one, stranger, an’ it’s right in front of you,” was the reply, as the cowboy pointed to a small, one story building across the street from the river front.
“Is Professor Driedgrass in that bunch?” asked a voice as the travelers were contemplating the hostelry. “If he is I have a letter for him.”
“I am Professor Snodgrass,” replied the scientist, looking toward the man who had last spoken.