“Perhaps I have, but I would like you to come to my dinner. Will you?”
The boys promised. So did the girls and Mr. Seabury, whose health was much improved by the California climate. The professor, with a far away look in his eyes, said he would be there if he could.
“What’s to prevent you?” asked Bob.
“Well, I haven’t found that horned toad yet, and I’m still searching.”
The dinner came off three nights later. It was a grand affair, served in the best of style of which the San Felicity hotel chef was capable. The girls and the boys were there, dressed in their best, and Ponto was taken along as a sort of chaperon, which gave him great delight. He did not once fall asleep.
“But where is Professor Snodgrass?” asked Mr. De Vere, when it was nearly time to sit down. “Isn’t he coming?”
“He promised to be here,” announced Mr. Seabury. “Probably he is on his way now.”
At that moment a commotion was heard outside the private dining-room which Mr. De Vere had engaged. A voice was saying:
“I tell you I will go in! I’m invited! My clothes? What about my clothes? All mud? Of course they’re all mud. I couldn’t help it!”
Then the door flew open and a curious sight was presented. There stood the professor, his coat split up the back, his trousers torn, and his hat smashed. Splashes of mud were all over him.