“I’ll tell you,” he said seriously. “We may go to Africa. There’s a chance that we will. But there is also a very big chance that we won’t. We just wanted to come out here and see this Thompson about the strange animals he saw. Whether we go will depend on how the museum heads look at it. Now, are you satisfied?”
“Sure,” answered Bob with a smile. “When, if you decide to go, will we leave?”
“There you go with that ‘we’ stuff,” came from Mr. Holton. “Aren’t you fellows taking a lot for granted?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” returned Joe. “Judging from the past we’re not. You will take Bob and me along, won’t you? That is, of course, if you go.”
“We can’t say just now,” his father returned. “It might be arranged. All that can be decided later.”
“Hurrah for Africa!” cried Bob with enthusiasm. “We’ll——”
He stopped quickly, as he happened to glance at a small clock that was on the dresser.
“Past eight!” he cried. “Wow! We’ve got to be in Chinatown by nine!”