“There! I have you again, my beauty!” cried the professor, pouncing on his specimen in a corner of the room. “You shall not escape again!” and with that he popped the toad into a small specimen box which he always wore strapped on his back.
“Tell me,” began the innkeeper, in a low tone, sidling up to Jerry, “is your elderly friend, the bald-headed señor, is he—ah—um—is he a little, what you Americanos call—er—wheels?” and he moved his finger with a circular motion in front of his forehead.
“Not in the least,” replied the boy. “He is only collecting specimens for his college.”
The Mexican shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands in an apologetic sort of way, but it was easy to see that he believed Professor Snodgrass insane, an idea that was shared by all the servants in the inn, for not one of them, during the adventurers’ brief stay in the hotel, would approach him without muttering a prayer.
“I wonder what we’ll have to eat?” asked Ned, as with the others he prepared to sit down.
The innkeeper clapped his hands, which signal served in lieu of a bell for the servants. In a little while a meal of fish, eggs, chocolate and chicken, with the ever-present frijoles and tortillas, was served. It tasted good to the hungry lads, though as Jerry remarked he would have preferred it just as much if there hadn’t been so much red pepper and garlic in everything.
“Water! Water! Quick!” cried Bob, after taking a generous mouthful of frijoles, which contained an extra amount of red pepper. “My mouth is on fire!”
He swallowed a tumblerful of liquid before he had eased the smart caused by the fiery condiment. Thereafter he was careful to taste each dish with a little nibble before he indulged too freely.
In spite of these drawbacks, the boys enjoyed their experience, and were interested in the novelty of everything they saw.
“I wonder how we are to sleep?” said Jerry, after the meal was over. “I’ve heard that Mexican beds were none of the best.”