“You’ve really hunted wild animals? Tell me about it.”
During the next hour Bob and Joe related some of their experiences in Brazil and North Africa, while their newly made young friend listened breathlessly. By the expressions on his face they knew that he was absorbing every word with interest. When they had finished, his admiration for them was beyond expression.
“Gee! You two are real naturalists,” he said.
“Not yet,” corrected Bob, “though we hope to be some day. To be a naturalist you must go through college and get your lessons every day. But it isn’t hard if you want to like it.”
For a time young Spike seemed lost in thought. Finally he roused himself and turned to his friends.
“I’m goin’ home and go to school, so I can be a naturalist,” he said conclusively. “And then maybe I can have a lot of fun huntin’ and campin’, like you fellows do. I always did want to do that.”
Bob and Joe glanced at each other. Did this lad’s decision mean anything, or was it merely a childish notion? At least they had induced him to attend school temporarily.
Joe started to speak, but Spike silenced him.
“Look!” he cried. “We’re comin’ to a stop. This must be a town.”