It appeared that he had just entered at the doorway around which were grouped the excited officers and men.
“We have caught a spy,” some one said. 14
“He must have let the big snake loose!” another added.
“Well, why don’t some of you shoot the reptile?” asked the colonel. “A fine lot of soldiers you are, I must say! Afraid of a snake! Where will you be when you go up against the Germans? Some one get a rifle and shoot the snake!”
At this command a protesting cry came from the midst of a group of soldiers who were guarding the man arrested as a spy.
“Don’t shoot my snake! Don’t shoot my pet snake!” came the entreaty. “He is worth a fortune! Don’t harm him!”
There was a commotion—a scramble. Several men stumbled and fell, and from their midst a figure dashed—a figure at the sight of which a gasp of astonishment came from the three Motor Boys.
And since Ned, Bob and Jerry have been called Motor Boys several times I will take just a moment here to tell who these lads were and something about them; also why they were at Camp Dixton. Of course, the readers who already know this may skip what immediately follows and proceed with the story.
As related in the initial volume of the first part of this series, a book which is named “The Motor Boys,” Ned Slade, Bob Baker and Jerry Hopkins were chums of long standing. They lived in Cresville, 15 not far from Boston, and the three lads were well-to-do. Jerry’s mother was a wealthy widow, while Bob’s father was a banker, and Ned’s a department store owner.
The Motor Boys were so called because they spent so much time in or about vehicles that depended on gasoline motors for their activity. They began with motorcycles and ended with airships—though one should not say ended, for their activities were far from over.