CHAPTER VI.
THE PROFESSOR’s STORY.
It was only a short walk to the Golden Gate Hotel, where they found that the professor was in his room. They sent to him to ask if he would see them. A moment later the bellboy returned, accompanied by a spare but sinuously built man of medium height. It was difficult to judge his age, though Jim conjectured him to be about forty. Still, he might have been either ten years older or younger. He had a sharp but pleasant face that had been warmed to a deep brown by the ardent rays of the tropic sun. His moustache and full beard in the fashion of the day, was dark brown, almost black, and was closely trimmed like his hair, which was quite gray—an individual that you would know at once as a man that had done something worth while. His movements were deliberate, but so easy and graceful that there was not a fraction of wasted effort, and much quicker than they appeared to be. His eyes were clear and penetrating, and, as Juarez expressed it, “seemed to look right through you.”
“That’s the professor,” whispered Jo to Jim as the man came into the rotunda where the boys were waiting. “There isn’t much of him, but he’s all there.”
Coming toward them, he cast a rapid glance over the group that seemed to appraise them all in one moment.
“You are James Darlington,” he said in a pleasant drawl, advancing to Jim with outstretched hand. “I would recognize you anywhere from your likeness to your brothers. I am very glad to meet you. And,” turning to the engineer.
“Mr. Berwick,” answered Jim. “He is the chief engineer of the Sea Eagle.”
“Glad to know you, Mr. Berwick,” said the professor. “I suppose, Mr. Darlington, that these young gentlemen have told you about my expedition. Not yet. Oh, by the way, have you dined? No? So much the better. Neither have I, so we will have dinner first and our talk later.”
“But,” objected Jim.