"Make up the bed to-night there," said the Professor. "I'll sleep in it myself." It struck him this was a brilliant way to find out.
"Youse spectin' some folks, sir?"
"Yes, Hannah," returned the Professor. "My two nephews are going to spend a fortnight with me."
"Is dey youn' gen'lemen?" inquired the old negress.
"I hope so," answered the Professor, with a smile.
"I means is dey youn'?" corrected Hannah.
"Let me see. Upon my soul, I have forgotten." The Professor wrinkled his forehead. "One's twelve, and one's thirteen years of age," he said, after a mental calculation.
Hannah left the room, and the Professor seated himself at the desk.
"I reckin we's gwine hab some trubble," said the old woman, as she waddled into the kitchen. "Twelve and thirteen is a rampanxious age for boys."
On the second day of February Bill Alton and Todd, his younger brother, were met by the Professor at the station. They had seen him only once or twice before, but seeing they were the Professor's only nephews, their mother had insisted upon their making this long-promised visit, frankly to state, much to their disgust.