“Good fellow, all right,” smiled Bob, settling himself down in the seat. “All he needs is a little well-directed exercise.”
“I’m afraid he won’t get it,” said the naturalist. “He’ll probably be fat as long as he lives.”
The journey back to Calamar was uneventful. Bob and Mr. Wallace looked out rather fearfully as they passed the spot where they had previously been robbed. But no gang appeared this time to stay them.
Finally they reached their destination and left the train. They were greatly surprised to see that no one was there to meet them.
“That’s funny!” mused Bob, as he and the naturalist lugged the heavy gasoline can in the direction of the airplane. “I thought sure Dad or Joe would be here.”
When at last they came to the airplane, Bob gave a cry of surprise.
Seated on the ground were Joe, Karl Sutman, and Mr. Holton, their faces bleeding from numerous scratches, their clothes torn and wrinkled.