“Hockley will get a lecture when he shows up,” whispered Frank to Darry.
“He’ll get only what he deserves, Darry. Isn’t that so, Beans?”
“To be sure,” came from Sam. “He howled about us delaying him at the railroad cliff; now he’s doing the same thing himself.”
Quarter of an hour went by and the boys wondered if the professor would make them give up the trip if Hockley did not return. Then came a messenger with a note for Professor Strong. The note was from Hockley and ran as follows:
“Dear Professor Strong: Have just met some old friends of my father, and they wish me to spend the evening with them as they are bound for Philadelphia to-morrow. Please excuse me from going to that plantation with you. Will be at the hotel when you get back.”
“Hockley has met some friends and wishes to stay with them a few hours,” said the professor. “We will go without him.”
“I’m just as well satisfied,” murmured Mark, but in a low voice, so that Professor Strong did not hear him.
They were soon seated in the carriage, the negro driver touched up the pair, and away they rolled, down the smooth street, around a corner of the public square and on toward the road leading to Valencia, which is located on the lake of the same name, and on the line of a railroad between the two points.
“When I was here before, the railroad ran no further than Victory, a two days’ drive in a carriage,” said the professor, when Caracas was left behind and they found themselves climbing over the hills on a road lined with beautiful tropical trees. “Now one can go straight through to Valencia and also part of the way around the lake. There is also a railroad from Valencia to Puerto Cabello, on the seacoast, west of La Guayra, and a steamer runs every ten days between the two seaports.”
“I don’t see much but coffee plantations around here,” observed Mark.