“Why don’t you come with us, as you’ve done before?” burst out Ned. “We’re going out West to a place called Thunder Mountain, in Montana. Why not come along, Professor?”
Professor Snodgrass shook his head as he turned over his wet coat so that the sun and wind might better dry it.
“I’m afraid that’s too far for me,” he said. “The doctor said I must take it easy.”
“Well, come with us as far as Chicago,” suggested Jerry. “We are going that far, at least, in a motor car. You’ll get plenty of fresh air that way.”
“I shall be delighted!” announced Professor Snodgrass. “It will suit me to perfection. In fact, I was going to ask you boys to let me accompany you if you contemplated any short trips this summer. But to Thunder Mountain in Montana—well, that’s a bit too far, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps you won’t find it so after you get started,” suggested Ned. “At any rate, we’ll count on you as far as Chicago.”
“Yes, you may do that, thank you,” was the answer.
A little later, when the professor’s clothing was dry enough to allow him to squeeze himself into it, the party started for Jerry’s house by a little-frequented path.
The professor was a queer-looking sight, but, then, as he nearly always was in this condition, caused by crawling and climbing after bugs and butterflies wherever he saw them, it did not much matter.
Mrs. Hopkins made him welcome, as she always did, and the boys offered to go to the railroad station to inquire about the professor’s trunk, which he said he had checked to Cresville.