Joe was of medium size, with almost black eyes and a naturally dark complexion. He was lighter and less robust than his friend, but was possessed of fierce courage and bravery. He never started a thing without finishing it.
Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis, fathers of the youths, were noted naturalists and collectors of specimens for museums and zoos. They had been nearly everywhere and always welcomed any hint that might start them on a new trip into the unknown. The two men had met several years before at a convention of scientists, and took a great liking to each other. As they both lived in Washington, D. C., they agreed to work together in behalf of a large museum, and Mr. Lewis made an attempt to purchase the residence next to that of his friend. He was at last successful in acquiring it, and then began the warm friendship between the two youths, Bob and Joe.
The boys were together much of their time and got along excellently, following in their fathers’ footsteps as much as possible by taking hikes into the woods to study nature. Fresh with the vigor of youth, they were having a grand time together, but would have had a still greater one had they been permitted to accompany the men on the various scientific expeditions.
“You’re only freshmen,” Mr. Holton had told them, about three years before. “Wait till you’re juniors or seniors, and then perhaps we will consider taking you along.”
Now the boys were in their senior year, or would be when school opened the coming fall, and were eagerly anticipating the future.
“If they’d only make a trip this summer,” said Joe, shortly after school had closed. “Then we might——”
Let us return to the boys, as they cast glances at the side of the house. The sound of footsteps grew louder, and the next moment Bob’s father came into view.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Hello, Mr. Holton.”
The naturalist returned the greetings and then made his way to a porch seat. Several moments he spent in lighting a cigar. Then he turned to the youths.