He reached up, and began to stroke the snake back of the weaving head, and gradually the forked tongue, that had been playing in and out with the quickness of lightning, was quieted. Ticula seemed to regain her composure. She settled down, wrapping a fold or two about the little man, who did not seem at all alarmed at the movements of the snake, though one officer murmured:
“Great Scott! he’s taking an awful chance. That’s a constrictor, and it can crush an ox!”
But Professor Snodgrass gazed mildly through his glasses at those surrounding him and inquired:
“Are you all three there—Ned, Bob and Jerry?”
“All present and accounted for, Professor,” answered Jerry, with a laugh. “And now that Ticula seems quiet, perhaps you’ll explain what it all means.”
“Yes, I think an explanation is very much in 22 order,” said the colonel, who had urged some of his men to shoot the snake.
“First let me get my pet back in her sleeping box,” said the little scientist. “She will be quieter then. If one of you gentlemen will have the kindness to bring me the box you took away from me, I’ll put Ticula to sleep.”
“Bring in the box,” commanded a lieutenant. “We caught this man, Sir,” said the lieutenant, addressing the colonel, “hanging around the officers’ mess hall with a box. We thought it contained an infernal machine, and that he might be a German spy. We brought him here to talk to him, and then we discovered the snake crawling around. The box is outside.”
“Have it examined and brought in,” said the colonel. “It is just possible,” he added with a smile, “that the prisoner is what he claims to be—a naturalist. Is there any one here who knows him?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” answered Ned, Bob and Jerry in a chorus.