“When do you get your reading glasses?” he asked casually.
“Oh, I’m in no hurry to become a ‘four-eyes,’” replied Bill bitterly. “I’ll get them next week. Jove, but it’s tough!” and he shook his head.
“Well, we must be getting back,” said Cap, after a pause. “I’ve got some boning to do.”
“Same here,” added Pete. But Bill got up in silence to follow his brothers.
“Can’t you come and see me again?” asked Professor Clatter anxiously as his young friends descended the steps. “I’m going to stay in this neighborhood for some days and I’d like to talk over old times with you. Yes, Pactolus, I’m going to unharness you, and let you crop of the green herbage,” and he proceeded to release the horse from the shafts. “Pactolus and I understand each other,” he went on. “At least he knows what I say to him, though I have not yet mastered his language. It takes Dean Swift for that.”
“Has he stumbled into the river of gold yet?” asked Cap.
“Not yet, but I look at every stream eagerly as we pass over or through it, when it is not too deep. Some day perhaps the sands will be golden,” and the medicine man laughed gaily. “But do come out and see me some night when you have a chance. I’m going to camp on the other side of town. Come out to-night, if you will. I’ll probably have an old friend there to greet you.”
“Who?” asked Pete. “Not the thumbless man?”
“No, he’s safe in jail, I hope. But what would you say to Duodecimo Donaldby?”
“The weather prophet?” asked Bill, with a show of interest.