“Come in; it isn’t locked,” called out Jerry. “But there’s nothing doing in the eats. What’s up?”
“I don’t know,” answered Jim Blake, whose ability to control a slow and fast ball had gained for him the honor of ’varsity pitcher. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s something doing all right.”
“In what way?” Jerry asked, as Jim slumped down in an ancient chair, the joints of which squeaked in protest, thereby moving Jerry to utter a caution.
“Oh, I won’t break it,” said Jim. “But say, do you fellows know that Professor Snodgrass is on his way to pay you chaps a visit?”
“We didn’t know it,” said Bob, coming back from a quiet trip to his own room, meanwhile munching some chocolate, which he generally kept on hand to use in cases of emergency. “No, we didn’t know it, but he’s none the less welcome.”
“Oh, I know he’s quite friendly with you boys,” went on Jim, “but I thought maybe he had it in for you this time.”
“What makes you think so?” asked Ned.
“And how do you know he’s coming here?” was Jerry’s question.
“I’ll answer the last first, like working out some of those tough back-handed problems,” laughed Jim.