Passing through a long and high corridor, they came to one of the class-rooms and entered. At a tall desk at one end sat a man of forty-five, working out a problem on a sheet of paper. He was evidently a Spaniard but one who had seen a great deal of the world.

“How are you, Morano,” said the professor, stepping up and touching him on the arm.

The professor in engineering started up and stared for a moment. Then his face broke out into a warm smile, and he caught Professor Strong in both arms after the fashion of many foreigners.

“Strong, my own very dear friend, Amos Strong!” he cried, in a rich Spanish accent. “Where in the world have you come from, and when did you arrive? It is wonderful! I am so glad! You are yourself, but you look older. And these boys? Some of your sons perhaps?” And he took the professor’s hands and shook them over and over again.

“I am glad to see you, Morano,” was the professor’s equally warm reply. “It is fully fifteen years since we parted, in Paris, after a tour of the Old World. I tried to see you when I was here before, but you were down in Peru, helping to build a railroad bridge.”

“Yes, that is so, I remember now. I could not stand it to teach—it is so hard, so steady, so confining. Outside it is different. One gets the air, one can walk about, and one is more happy. Then these are your sons? What are their names?”

“No, they are not my sons. I am not married.”

“Indeed! A happy bachelor. So am I. Then they are——?”

“They are my pupils. I have brought them to South America to show them something of the country.” The professor brought each one forward and mentioned his name. “Boys, this is Professor Enrique Morano, a very dear friend of mine, who once attended Yale with me, and who afterward made a tour of Europe with me and several other students.”

“I am charmed to meet so many from the dear United States,” said Professor Morano, as he shook hands all around. “It is a great country and I am sorry I could not remain in it longer. But my respected father—peace to his ashes!—wished me to return.”