It was so late when they arrived at the Wallace residence that the youths and their hosts decided to retire at once.
“I’m not going to the museum today,” announced the naturalist the next morning at breakfast. “There is so much that has to be done in the way of preparing for the coming expedition that I won’t have time for anything else.”
“If there’s anything Joe and I can do for you, we’ll be glad to do it,” said Bob. “Our preparations won’t begin until we get back to Washington.”
The young men proved to be of valuable service to the scientist. Their previous experience in preparing for exploration ventures enabled them to offer valuable suggestions to Mr. Wallace, even though the latter had made numerous trips for the good of science.
The vast resources of the great metropolis enabled them to find anything that the naturalist needed in the way of outdoor equipment. All that day and half of the next were spent in the business district.
“Now if you fellows like sport, as I do, what do you say about a little target practice?” Mr. Wallace asked them, after the noon lunch.
“What do we say?” Joe was overjoyed. “Lead us to it!”
In the extreme rear of the lawn was a large rifle range. Here, with the guns that Mr. Wallace generously furnished, they took turns exercising their skill at the trigger. Bob easily placed himself above the others by striking the very heart of the bull’s-eye.
“I thought I was a fair shot,” smiled the scientist. “But you have me beat by a mile.”
“Just happened that I hit it, I guess,” Bob said modestly.