“I’d just as soon,” agreed Jerry, and Ned nodded his assent.
“I’ll come over to your house, Ned, after supper,” Bob went on, “and Jerry can call there for us.”
“All right,” Jerry assented, and then he swung the car in the direction of his home.
“Did you have a nice ride?” his mother asked him.
“Fine!” he exclaimed. “Saved a man’s life, too!”
“More adventures!” Mrs. Hopkins exclaimed, thinking of the conference that afternoon.
“No, it was the other way around,” Jerry explained. “Mr. Hobson had the adventure, we just rescued him from it,” and he told of the overturned automobile.
“Such reckless driving!” his mother murmured. “I hope you boys don’t run your car so fast.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Jerry virtuously. “I wonder if she could have meant anything by that?” he asked himself as his mother went out of the room. “But I don’t believe she heard about that hay wagon. I hope not, anyhow.”
“Jerry! there’s a letter for you on the mantel,” his mother called back to him as she went upstairs.
“Wonder who it’s from,” mused the tall lad. It was in a long envelope, without any return designation, and Jerry’s name and address were typewritten, so he could not guess the sender, as he might have done had it been in script.
“Some advertisement,” the lad went on, somewhat disappointed, as he drew out a booklet. With it was a letter, and when Jerry had glanced at the signature, before reading the epistle, he cried in delight.
“Why, it’s from Professor Snodgrass! What in the world is he up to now?”
Readers of the former books of this series concerning Ned, Bob and Jerry (volumes which will be mentioned more at length later) will remember Professor Uriah Snodgrass, a most earnest scientist. His quest after rare bugs and queer animals furnished our heroes with more than one adventure, and took them into various queer places.
“Professor Snodgrass!” went on Jerry. “I haven’t heard from him in a long while. I wonder where he is now?”
A glance at the top of the letter showed him.
The epistle was dated from Fordham, a New England city, and at the top of the page, in embossed letters, was the name “Boxwood Hall.”
“Dear Jerry,” the letter read, “no doubt you will be surprised to hear that I have been appointed instructor of zoology, among other subjects, at Boxwood Hall.”