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CHAPTER III

WASHINGTON MEETS THE BOYS



All thoughts of experiments were driven from the minds of Jack and Mark by the telegram. They imagined that something had happened to their old friend, and it worried them. If he was dangerously hurt, as might be, for he was constantly experimenting in a small way, it would mean that a great change must take place in their lives.

“What do you suppose can have happened?” asked Mark, as he and Jack went to their rooms to get ready to leave the college.

“I haven’t the least idea. Maybe he wants us to go on another trip.”

Mark finished packing, and Jack was not far behind him. Then the lads went to the railroad station, where they purchased tickets for home and were soon on a train. On the journey they could not help but refer occasionally to the telegram, though Jack kept insisting that nothing so serious had happened. Mark was not quite in such good spirits.

“Well, here we are,” announced Jack, about three hours later, as the train pulled into a small station. “And there’s Washington on the platform waiting for us.”

Jack hurried out of the car, followed by Mark.

“Hello, Wash!” cried the fat lad. “How are you? Catch this valise!” and he threw it to the colored man before the train had come to a stop. Washington deftly caught the grip, though he had to make a quick movement to accomplish it.

“I ‘clar t’ gracious!” he exclaimed. “Dat suttinly am a most inconsequential mannah in which to project a transmigatory object in contiguousness to mah predistination.”

“Whoa, there!” cried Jack. “Better take two bites at that, Wash!”

“Dat’s all right, Massa Jack,” answered the colored man. “I’se glad to see yo’, an’ I suttinly hopes dat de transubstantiationableness ob my—”

“Wow!” cried Jack. “Say that over again, and say it slow.”

“Don’t yo’ foregather mah excitability?” asked the colored man rather anxiously.

“Yes, I guess so. What’s the answer? How’s the professor? How’s Andy? What’s the matter? Why did he send for us?”

“Wait! Wait! Please wait!” begged Washington. “One ob dem interrogatorial projections at a time, Massa Jack. Where am Massa Mark?”

“Here I am,” replied Jack’s chum, as he followed him out on the platform of the train, which had come to a stop.

“Dats right!” exclaimed Washington. “Let me hab yo’ extended article ob transportation an’ I’ll jest expidite it in—”

“I guess you mean it, all right,” interrupted Jack. “But what’s up? Why did the professor send for us?”

“I doan’t know, Massa Jack.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nopy. He jest done gone tell me to send dat transmigatory telegraph, an’ dat’s all.”

“But why does he want us? He’s not sick, is he?” asked Mark.

“Never felt bettah!” exclaimed Washington as he walked along the street leading from the depot, a valise in either hand. “His state ob health am equal to de sophistication ob de soporiferousness.”

“You mean he sleeps well?” questioned Jack.

“Dat’s what I done meant to convey to yo’, Massa Jack.”

“Well, why don’t you say it?” asked Mark.

“Dat’s jest what I done. I said—”

“Never mind,” interrupted Jack.

“Then you can’t tell us why the professor sent for us?”

“He’s got company,” went on Washington, as if he had just thought of that.

“Company?” exclaimed both boys.

“Yyais.”

“Who is it?”

“Why, his name am Santell Roumann.”

“What an odd name!” commented Mark.

“Is he a doctor?” asked Jack.

“He speaks wid a Germannes aceetnuation,” said Washington. “He suttinly uses de most ogilistic conglomerations—”

“If he can beat you, he’s a wonder,” said Jack. “But where did he come from?”

“I ‘clar t’ goodness I doan’t know. All I knows is dat he jest comed. One day he wasn’t dere, and come next day he was.”

“Does the professor know him?”

“Suah! He’s a friend ob de perfesser,” added Washington. “De perfesser was pow’ful glade t’ see him.”

“‘Then he must be some scientist,” said Mark.

“Dat’s it! He’s chock full obscientistical bombasticness an’ labiodentalisms,” said the colored man.

“I guess the professor wanted us to meet him and learn something that we couldn’t in college,” spoke Mark. “Well, we’ll soon be there.”

“Yes,” assented Jack. “I want to find out what it’s all about. Santell Roumann—that’s an odd name.”

“An’ he’s a mighty odd man,” supplemented Washington.

They reached the house a few minutes later, and went in the front door. The sounds of two voices came from the library. One of them was that of Professor Henderson. He was saying:

“I tell you it can’t be done! It is utterly impossible! It is madness to think of such a terrible trip!”

“And I tell you it can be done—it shall be done and you are the very man to accomplish it,” insisted the other. “You and your young assistants will succeed. I know you will. You will go with me, and we will make the longest journey on record.”



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