When the boys arrived at Tampico and George had secured comfortable lodgings for them, the first thing Ken did was to put Hal to bed. It required main strength to do this. Ken was not taking any chances with tropical fever, and he sent for a doctor. It was not clear whether the faces Hal made were at the little dried-up doctor or at the medicine he administered. However, it was very clear that Hal made fun of him and grew bolder the more he believed the man could not understand English. Ken liked the silent, kindly physician, and remonstrated with Hal, and often, just to keep Hal’s mind occupied, he would talk of the university and baseball, topics that were absorbing to the boy. And one day, as the doctor was leaving, he turned to Ken with a twinkle in his eyes and said in perfect English: “I won’t need to come any more.” Hal’s jaw began to drop. “Your brother is all right,” went on the doctor. “But he’s a fresh kid, and he’ll never make the Wayne Varsity--or a good explorer, either--till he gets over that freshness. I’m a Wayne man myself. Class of ’82. Good day, boys.” Ken Ward was astounded. “By George! What do you think of that? He’s a Wayne med. I’ll have to look him up. And, Hal, he was just right about you.” Hal looked extremely crestfallen and remorseful. “I’m always getting jars.” It took a whole day for him to recover his usual spirits. Ken had promptly sent the specimens and his notes to his uncle, and as the days passed the boys began to look anxiously for some news. In ten days Hal was as well as ever, and then the boys had such sport with the tarpon and big sharks and alligator-gars that they almost forgot about the rewards they had striven so hard for and hoped to win. But finally, when the mail arrived from home, they were at once happy and fearful. George was with them that evening, and shared their excitement and suspense. Hal’s letters were from his mother and his sister, and they were read first. Judge Ward’s letter to Ken was fatherly and solicitous, but brief. He gave the boys six more weeks, cautioned them to be sensible and to profit by their opportunity, and he inclosed a bank-draft. Not a word about rewards! Ken’s fingers trembled a little as he tore open the uncle’s letter. He read it aloud: DEAR KEN,--Congratulations! You’ve done well. You win the trip to Africa. Hal’s work also was good--several specimens accepted by the Smithsonian. I’ll back you for the Yucatan trip. Will send letters to the American consul at Progreso, and arrange for you to meet the Austrian archæologist Maler, who I hope will take you in hand. I want you to make a study of some of the ruins of Yucatan, which I believe are as wonderful as any in Egypt. I advise you to make this trip short and to the point, for there are indications of coming revolution throughout Mexico. With best wishes, UNCLE G.