“I’m afraid so, Joe. I had a look at them, and they seem to be ruined.”
“Too bad!” and Joe sighed. Mr. Amos Blackford had the reputation in town of being rather close, and Joe realized this better than any one else.
“The professor ought to get you a new suit,” Tom asserted, “since you ruined yours saving him.”
“Oh, that wasn’t the reason I wanted to see him,” hastily interposed the young wizard. “And if you go with me, Tom, don’t you dare mention my burned clothes.”
Joe looked so stern as he said this, and Tom so well knew the firmness of his chum, that he readily promised to do as Joe wished.
“I think I’ll just give him a call at the hotel,” Joe went on. “There’s time enough for me to go home—and take what’s coming to me—later,” he added grimly. “I’ve got another suit, Tom, my best one. I can put that on and give you back yours.”
“Oh, I’m not worrying about that, Joe. But come on, we’ll go to the hotel. I wonder what the professor was doing up on the top floor of that fireworks factory, anyhow.”
“That’s one of the things that’s been puzzling me, Tom. And I don’t mind admitting that it is one of the reasons why I’d like to meet that prestidigitator.”
“Come along then,” went on Tom. “I’m with you. You may learn some more of his tricks, Joe.”
“Oh, I know quite a few already.”