Jerry well knew that even with all his absent-mindedness and his blind devotion to science, that Professor Snodgrass would never, willingly, do anything to harm the Allied cause.
And yet––
More yells came from the soldiers that had been gathered around the black box and who fled when Professor Snodgrass gave the alarm. And the yells began to come from some of the officers, too. They were not above giving vent to either pain or surprise.
And then suddenly Jerry felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck. At first he thought it might have come from some missile, discharged noiselessly from the black box. He clapped his hand to the seat of the pain and at once became aware that he had struck and crushed some small insect. It came away in his hand, twisting and curling in its death agony, and the pain in Jerry’s neck increased.
“Why!” he cried as he saw the bug. “Why, it’s a wasp! A wasp!”
“Of course it is!” said Professor Snodgrass, flapping his arms about his head, and Jerry now 213 saw the reason. A number of vicious wasps were buzzing about them.
“They’re wasps, with the worst stings of any I ever saw!” yelled the professor. “That’s why I want to get away. I was stung by one of them once, and I’ll never forget it. Look out! Here come more of ’em!”
There was a cloud of the wasps flying about Bob, Jerry, and the professor now, and the tall lad noted that the insects were also hovering around other soldiers and officers. There was a black cloud of them near the small case that had caused such a scare.
“Was that what was in the black box?” asked Jerry, as he dodged a wasp that seemed about to alight on his nose.
“Yes. Wasps,” asserted the scientist. “The most war-like wasps I have been able to discover in this part of Europe. They are a cross breed of the Vespidæ Polistes, Eumenes, and Odynerus, and for stings are not to be equalled.”