“Liberty or death!” chanted Bob.
They all laughed gaily, and Marie was told, in a casual way, of the accident to the troopship and her trip back to the dock.
The boys were so taken up with the pretty waitress and with getting their appetites in a fair way to be satisfied, that they paid little attention to those around them at the other tables. But when they had begun to eat, and the sharp edge of their hunger was somewhat dulled, Jerry looked about the restaurant to note the possible presence of some of their friends who, like themselves, might have also received shore leave from the Sherman.
Jerry did not see any soldiers whom he and his chums knew, though he did observe a number of Uncle Sam’s boys, together with some French poilus and British Tommies. What attracted his attention, however, was the sight of a little bald-headed man seated at a table two or three removed from the one at which he and his friends were dining. The little man was in civilian clothes.
“Look!” excitedly exclaimed Jerry, nudging Ned, who sat next to him. “Look over there!”
He pointed to the little bald-headed man, who was busy over his soup.
“Professor Snodgrass!” exclaimed Ned. “Well, this is luck!”
Jerry arose from his chair, followed by Ned, and started toward the man to whom he had called the attention of his chums. The man’s back was toward the lads, but there was no doubt in their minds that he was their scientific friend.
“Where have you been, Professor Snodgrass?” asked Jerry, as, with Ned, he stood at the other table.
And then the two boys received the surprise of their lives. For the little man who gazed quickly up at them was not Professor Snodgrass at all, though he bore a wonderfully striking resemblance to him from the back.