“HIP-HIP-HOORAY! Zowie! Rah! Rah! Rah!”

“For crying out loud!” exclaimed Bob Holton. “What’s got into you, Joe?”

Joe danced around in wild delight, throwing his hat high into the air and catching it as it came down. He stood on his head, turned a somersault on the grass, and performed other feats.

“Wow!” cried Bob. “You’d have a circus daredevil green with envy. But why all this jumping around? You act like a wild man.”

“Wild man! Hurrah for wild men! And wild animals!”

“Keep it up, old boy,” sang Bob. “When you come back to your senses, maybe I can get something out of you.”

Joe continued his acrobatic stunts, which ended very abruptly as he came up against a tree that he did not know was so close.

“What’s the big idea?” he growled. “Having a tree right in my way. Wait till I go get an ax.”

Joe gained his feet and made a dash toward the house. But in one bound Bob brought him to the ground with a flying tackle that he had used so advantageously on the football field.

“Come clean!” roared Bob. “What’s the big idea, anyway? You’d better talk.”

“Not till I finish my stunt,” said Joe stoutly. “Not——Hey! Cut it out!”

Joe became choked with laughter as his chum’s hand pressed against his ribs. For Bob knew only too well that Joe was not a little ticklish.

“If I can’t get it out of you one way, I will another,” said Bob, never giving his chum an inch.

“Say! What are you ginks up to?”

On the instant Bob released his hold and wheeled about. Then a look of combined bewilderment and delight came on his face.

“Chubby Stevens!” he cried wildly, getting to his feet.

“It’s Chubby as sure as I’m born!” added Joe, displaying even more surprise. “Why, when did you get here?”

The new arrival was a short, exceedingly fat youth, with twinkling eyes and a pug nose. Bob and Joe had made his acquaintance while in South America on their Andes expedition and had taken a great liking to him.

“Just happened to be in Washington and thought I’d drop around and see you bozos,” Chubby explained. “We came by airplane. Left Houston last night.”

“Boy! Am I glad to see you!” said Bob. “Of course, you’re going to stay awhile, aren’t you?”

“Only till tomorrow,” the fat little fellow said. “Dad came here to see the President, I guess,” he said with a chuckle. “Things ain’t goin’ to suit him in his business. He’s awful hard to please, Dad is. If the dough ain’t rollin’ in to suit him he thinks there ought to be something done about it.”

“Same old Chubby,” said Bob with a laugh. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”

“Well—the fact is, he didn’t make it clear just what he came for. Anyway, he came. And I went with him.”

“Ever been to Washington before?” inquired Joe.

“Nope. I got to within a half a mile of here once. But just as we were about to hit the city limits, Dad turned off on another road.”

Bob and Joe laughed.

“Well, then,” began the latter, “suppose we spend the day looking around. We can see the city and go to the museum and take a look at the specimens we brought back from the Andes. That is, unless you’d rather do something else.”

“I’d rather do that than anything,” Chubby said at once. “But—” he hesitated—“if you gazooks have anything else to do——”

“We won’t have anything to do for several days,” spoke up Joe.

“What are you goin’ to be up to then—after those several days are up?” demanded Chubby.

“Plenty,” returned Joe. “Ever hear of Africa?”

“Let me think.” The fat youth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The word sounds familiar,” he said at last. “What is it, a new kind of dog food?”

“Cut the comedy,” said Joe, suppressing a smile. “The thing is that Bob and I are going there.”

“To Africa? No kiddin’!”

“Not a bit,” returned Joe. “We’ll be leaving in a short time now.”

“Wait a minute,” snapped Bob. “How do you know you and I are going? They haven’t told us yet.”

“Oh, no? Well, just for your own benefit, Dad told me a little while ago that our mothers have given their consent. We can go on the expedition.”

Bob stood for several minutes as though transfixed. Then, as though the full meaning of his chum’s words had been suddenly released, he jumped up with a shout of joy.

“Africa!” Bob cried. “Hurrah!”

“And still you wonder why I did all that jumping around a while ago,” grinned Joe.

“So that was it?” asked Bob. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“So you’re going to Africa, are you?” came from Chubby Stevens. “Gonna start a circus?”

“Hardly,” returned Joe. “Dead animals are bad enough to bring back, let alone live ones. But right now, Chubby, come in the house. The lawn isn’t any place to visit.”

The remainder of that day Bob and Joe spent in entertaining their friend from Houston. The three visited the museum and had a long talk with Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis, who at once took a liking to Chubby. Then, after viewing the many specimens of animal life that had recently been brought back from the Andes, the three drove around the city, noting the United States Capitol, the White House, Arlington National Cemetery, and many other notable attractions.

Very late that afternoon Bob and Joe let their friend out in front of the hotel in which he and his father were staying. Chubby explained that, as they were to start back to Houston before daylight the next morning, he could not remain longer with his friends.

“Watch yourselves while you’re in Africa,” he warned, as parting words. “Don’t get on the inside of a lion.”

“We’ll try not to,” laughed Bob, and then, with a final farewell, he sent the car homeward.

That evening Bob and Joe thanked their parents warmly for allowing them to prepare for the African expedition. They promised their mothers that they would be unusually careful and not take chances while in the jungle.

“And now,” began Bob the next morning, “we’ll have to do some hustling, because we leave Friday. This is Monday, you know.”

“And how I wish it were Friday now!” groaned Joe.

The youths were far from idle during the week. They found that there was much to be purchased in the way of outdoor equipment, for although they had been on several previous expeditions, never had necessity demanded so much as now. Much of the equipment, however, could be furnished by the two naturalists, who had a large collection of rifles, cartridges, outdoor clothing, tents, kits, and various other articles.

“Here’s something that might interest you, boys,” said Mr. Lewis one evening, as he caught the chums on the back lawn.

“What is it?” inquired Bob, noticing what the scientist held. “Looks like a kind of club.”

“Hardly that,” laughed Mr. Lewis, “though it might be used as a club. But the thing is, boys, that this is a flashlight without batteries.”

“A—a what?” demanded Joe in surprise. “Flashlight without batteries? What are you talking about, Dad?”

“I thought that would get you,” Mr. Lewis laughed. “But no joking, this is just what I said. You see, it contains a small generator. As you turn this crank, it makes electricity, and the bulb lights.”

“What a contraption!” said Bob. “But, say! Speaking of turning cranks, that reminds me. Joe and I haven’t notified the Neuman Motion Picture Corporation that we’re going to Africa. And they told us to let them know when we left for a little-known land. If we’re going to take movies of Africa, we’ll have to telegraph them at once and maybe go to Philadelphia to see them.”

“I’ve already sent them word,” said Joe. “Forgot to tell you about it. As soon as our mothers said we could go, I went down and telegraphed. They said they’d send the cameras and film at once by express.”

“You did?” asked Bob in astonishment. “Good old Joe. Gotta hand it to you, all right.”

But despite what the Neuman Corporation had informed Joe, the motion-picture cameras and film had not arrived Thursday evening, as the youths and their fathers prepared to retire. On the morrow—Friday—they were to leave for Baltimore, whence they would embark on the steamer Zanzibar.

“Doggone it, anyhow!” exclaimed Bob Holton, who was fairly fuming at the mouth. “What will we do? We haven’t time to go to Philadelphia now.”

“Looks like you fellows aren’t going to take movies of Africa,” remarked Mr. Holton, who also felt the youths’ bitter disappointment.

“But—but they would be better than any we’ve ever taken,” mourned Joe. “No,” he went on, “we’ll have to arrange it some way. It might be best for you men to go on and let Bob and me take another ship. We——”

“I’m afraid you couldn’t do that, boys,” said Mr. Lewis, shaking his head. “We’ve already made reservations for you, and those could not easily be broken. A contract is a contract, you know.”

“The only thing for you to do,” came from Bob’s father, “is to telegraph Neuman the first thing in the morning to send the cameras and film on to Africa if they haven’t sent them yet. Of course, if they have, your mothers can forward them on to Africa by another ship.”

That night Bob and Joe were far from hopeful. Since they had been engaged on their first expedition, to Brazil, to take moving pictures of the strange places and animals they saw, the chums had longed for a chance to photograph wild life in African jungles. Now, to be leaving for those mysterious jungles without taking motion pictures was unthinkable.

But despite these grave thoughts, the youths slept soundly and awoke the next morning in high spirits. After all, they were going to Africa. What if they could not go? That would really be something to cry over.

The four adventurers tore themselves with difficulty from the breakfast table and arranged their belongings together. The boys’ fathers drove the family cars around in front.

“Let’s get started at once,” urged Mr. Holton, looking at his watch. “The train leaves for Baltimore in little more than half an hour. That means we’ll have to hurry.”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when an express truck drove up and stopped just behind the two cars. Out of it stepped the driver, who carried a large tightly sealed box.

“The motion-picture cameras!” cried Joe in extreme joy. “They’re here at last!”