Joe smiled, but said nothing.
They soon found themselves at the one hotel of Bedford, and, after stating their errand, a bell-boy came back with the information that Professor Rosello would see them in his room.
“He’s a little knocked out,” the clerk informed Joe. “Nothing serious, though. He’ll be glad to see you.”
And the professor was. He looked from Joe to Tom as the two lads entered his room.
“To whom am I indebted so greatly for the saving of my life?” asked Professor Rosello, in a rather formal and old-fashioned manner, which well became him.
“He did it!” said Tom, quickly, indicating Joe.
“Then permit me, my dear young sir, to give you my most heartfelt and sincere thanks.” He shook hands gravely with Joe, and resumed: “I am well aware that mere words are futile at a time like this, and so I will refrain from uttering many of them. But, none the less, I do thank you. I did not realize my danger until after I had been rescued. Then I was told it was you who had done it. Even yet I hardly realize what I went through and my escape from a great danger. I dare say it will come to me as a shock, later.”
“I hope you’re feeling better,” said Joe, who was anxious to get the “thanking business,” as he called it, over with.
“Yes, I am almost myself again, thank you,” was the reply. “I did swallow a little smoke, but not much. I really had no business to go where I did. You see it was this way.”
Tom looked at Joe, as much as to say: