Of course, though, had the Germans opened fire on the professor from their trenches, they would have run the chance of killing their own three men, captives though the latter were. And, too, had the Huns fired there would have at once been answering fire from the Americans, for the latter gunners were always on the alert, and once word was passed up and down the line that the little “bug-hunter” was out in No Man’s Land, every man who knew or who had heard of him was ready with his rifle—Ned, Bob and Jerry among them—ready to take full toll in revenge had he been fired on.
But the German trenches were silent, and for good reason, as was learned later, so the professor marched on with his prisoners, the latter never once looking behind them, but walking with their hands high in the air.
And the little scientist was as unconcerned as though he was on his return from some insect-hunting trip. His appearance was a bit unusual, though, and Ned commented on it.
“What’s that thing on his back?” asked the stout lad. 186
“Looks like a magnified haversack of new design,” replied Ned.
“The professor hasn’t enlisted, has he?” some one asked Jerry. “Not but what he’d make a fine soldier,” was the added comment.
“No, I can’t imagine what he has on,” Jerry answered. “We’ll soon find out, though.”
On came the professor, and when he had his prisoners at the edge of the first American trench he exclaimed, with a twinkle in his eyes:
“Here you are! Make yourselves at home! Will some one please take charge of—er—these—specimens?” asked the little scientist, and again his eyes twinkled as he looked at the lieutenant who was in command just then.
“Great guns, man alive! Did you go out to get them?” asked the officer.