“But what can have become of the professor?” asked Jerry.
“Oh, you’d better see Mr. Duncan,” was the advice given. “He’s chairman of the board of aldermen, and he knows everything in this burg. See Mr. Duncan.”
Jerry sought out the man who had superintended the stringing of the cable.
“The professor?” he repeated. “Well, I think the most likely place to look for him would be at the hotel. There is only one in the place, and, very likely, when he found you had gone off and left him, he went there. We’ll go and make inquiries.”
“How is the ferry running?” asked Jerry, more to show a polite interest than for any other reason, for he was somewhat worried over many matters, not the least of which was the absence of Mr. Snodgrass.
“Fine!” replied Mr. Duncan. “Couldn’t be better! But here we are at the hotel, where, I have no doubt, you will find your friend.”
Jerry, accompanied by Mr. Duncan, entered the corridor. The lad inquired if Professor Snodgrass had put up there.
“You mean a little man, with not much hair on his head,” asked the clerk, “who’s always looking around as if he’d lost something?”
“That’s the gentleman,” replied Jerry, with a smile.
“He’s in room sixteen. Front!” cried the clerk, and when a bell boy responded, the man back of the desk added: “Show Mr. Duncan and his friend up to sixteen.”