"I see," went on Mr. Wallace. "Well, with thick skins like elephant or rhino, it's a different matter. I never fixed an elephant skin myself but I've seen other fellows do it. They take it off in sections, rub it well with salt and let it dry after the fat's gone. Then a dozen blacks get around each section with their paring knives and get busy."
"Paring knives!" cried Burt. "What for?"
Pare down the skin," smiled Mr. Wallace. "Thick skins are too heavy to carry and too thick to be pliable, so the skinners often spend a week paring down a skin till it's portable. Then it's rubbed with salt again or else packed in brine and shipped down to the coast or back wherever your agents are, who get it preserved right for you."
They talked for half an hour while the rabbits were being finished. Then Burt and his uncle left the building, and finding that Mr. St. John had already gone to lunch, started home themselves.
"Say, Burt," said Mr. Wallace as they walked down the street, "how'd you like to come to Africa with me next month?"
CHAPTER II
MR. CRITCHFIELD IS INTERVIEWED
"What! Me?" Burt stopped short and stared at his uncle. Mr. Wallace chuckled and lifted one eyebrow.
"Of course, if you don't want to go—" he began.
"Want to!" shouted Burt, careless of the passers-by who were looking at them curiously. "You can bet your life I want to! I'd give a million dollars to go with you!" His face dropped suddenly. "What's the use, Uncle George? You know's well as I do, the folks ain't going to stand for anything like that. Why, dad'd have a fit if he thought I was in Africa. What's the use of dreaming?"