“Good!” exclaimed Ned. “Then we’ll do it.”
“Sure—we—blub—ugh—will,” added Bob, his mouth full of chicken pie.
“Then finish up!” ordered Jerry. “We’ll arrange to have the auto left here, and take our baggage on with us. In Denver to-morrow noon! That’s fine!”
“If you’re on time,” put in the agent. “I meant to tell you about that last train, but I had some freight matters to look after, and it slipped my mind. She’ll be along here pretty soon. Better get your tickets, and have your baggage checked if you’re going.”
“Yes, and we’ve got to attend to our auto,” said Jerry.
“And my specimens!” cried the professor. “I think I will express back to the college those I have, and begin on a new lot. Oh, how lucky I am to get the long-tailed scorpion!”
“Oh, don’t speak of it!” cried Miss Harrison.
While Ned ran the auto to the nearest garage and arranged to have it cared for while the boys were in the West, Jerry and Bob bought the tickets for Denver, and had the baggage checked. That is, Jerry did most of the work, while Bob paid occasional visits to the lunch counter.
“Say, Bob,” asked Jerry at length. “Is it the girl or the grub that you’re fondest of?”
“Ah—er—both!” stammered the fat lad. “Those chicken pies were fine!”