“You’re a mind reader, if there ever was one,” the youth grinned. “But how in the dickens did you get wise?”
“You just told me,” Mr. Holton answered whimsically. “I’m a mind reader.”
“Come out of it, Dad.” Bob was becoming impatient. “Cut out this stalling. Is there going to be an expedition to Africa?”
“What do you think?”
“How are we to know?” countered Bob. “We’re not the head naturalists.”
“Listen to that, Howard,” teased Mr. Lewis. “Not the head naturalists! It beats all how these young squirts get ideas in their heads that they’re actually scientists. Why, they——”
“All right, we take it back.” Bob was tiring of getting nowhere. “Once more, is there going to be an expedition to Africa?”
“Want to know, do you?” his father persisted. “What for?”
“Oh-h, nothing! Come on, Joe. We might as well give it up as a bad job.”
The youths turned to leave for their room, but Mr. Lewis called them back.