"Excuse me, Professor Lemm, I—I—didn't—er—mean anything," stammered Spouter.
"Sorry it happened, very sorry," puffed Fatty.
"Is this young man traveling with you?" demanded Asa Lemm, suddenly, as he looked from Spouter and Fatty to Andy.
"Y—yes—sir," answered the son of Songbird Powell.
"Hum! Is he bound for the Hall?"
"Y—yes—sir."
"Indeed? Then perhaps I'll see all of you later," muttered Asa Lemm; and after that did what he could with the aid of some water and a napkin to remove the traces of the accident from his person. In this he was aided by the head waiter, who was profuse in his apologies over what had occurred.
"I'm afraid you've got yourself into a pickle, Andy," whispered his twin, when the latter had taken his seat at the table.
"I don't care. I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. Besides that, I think the waiter was as much to blame as I was."
"You'll never make old Lemon believe that," returned Spouter.