For several minutes Bob and Joe watched the busy scene about the tracks. Finally a factory whistle from afar prompted Joe to glance at his watch.
“Nearly two o’clock,” he announced. “Come on. Let’s hurry down to the freight station and see if we can send a telegram to our folks. If we hadn’t lost the car in that river, we would have been home several days ago.”
The youths moved down to the building and went inside. After making several inquiries they finally found the main office, where they were permitted to send a telegram. Then they left the building and walked in the direction of the street.
“Good old Chicago,” smiled Joe. “It’s only been a couple of months since we were here.”
Bob stopped suddenly.
“That reminds me,” he started. “We came here with our dads to see a Mr. Wallace, who’s with the Museum of Natural History, didn’t we? And this Mr. Wallace is planning on going with our dads’ expedition to the Andes Mountains, isn’t he? Do you suppose he’s left for Washington yet?”
Joe’s face lightened.
“I see what you mean,” he said. “We can go and see him, and incidentally we can borrow enough money to get home on. Suppose we go to the museum now.”
The boys were familiar with Chicago and had no difficulty in taking a street car. After a half-hour’s ride they got off within a few squares of the museum. A ten-minute walk brought them to the main entrance.
At the office they made inquiries about Mr. Wallace and finally found him in a laboratory on the second floor. He smiled broadly as he recognized Bob and Joe.