“What! Is that your Professor Puffer?” asked Cunningham in wonder. “How have the mighty fallen!”
“He was never so mighty as I supposed,” said Bernard. “I feel quite sure that he was a humbug and no professor at all.”
“I am inclined to agree with you. I don’t think any real professor would ever be reduced to such shifts as this. What are you going to do? Shall you make yourself known to your old companion?”
“I think I would like to do so,” said Bernard thoughtfully. “He may be able to give me some information, concerning my guardian, for instance that may be of service to me.”
“Perhaps you are right. At any rate, it will do no harm, unless you are afraid that the professor will try to get you into his power again.”
Bernard smiled as he regarded with complacency his own well knit figure—he was three inches taller than when he had been a fellow passenger of the professor on the ship Vesta.
“If he should try to get me into his power, will you stand by me, Mr. Cunningham?” he said.
“Yes; but I fancy that you are quite able to fight your own battles.”
Bernard stepped forward until he was in a line with Professor Puffer. Then in a clear, distinct voice, he said, “Professor Puffer!”
The sandwich man turned quickly, and regarded Bernard with surprise. The latter had not only grown, but he was much better dressed than when the professor parted with him.