“I’d rather do that than anything,” Chubby said at once. “But—” he hesitated—“if you gazooks have anything else to do——”
“We won’t have anything to do for several days,” spoke up Joe.
“What are you goin’ to be up to then—after those several days are up?” demanded Chubby.
“Plenty,” returned Joe. “Ever hear of Africa?”
“Let me think.” The fat youth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The word sounds familiar,” he said at last. “What is it, a new kind of dog food?”
“Cut the comedy,” said Joe, suppressing a smile. “The thing is that Bob and I are going there.”
“To Africa? No kiddin’!”
“Not a bit,” returned Joe. “We’ll be leaving in a short time now.”
“Wait a minute,” snapped Bob. “How do you know you and I are going? They haven’t told us yet.”
“Oh, no? Well, just for your own benefit, Dad told me a little while ago that our mothers have given their consent. We can go on the expedition.”