“The man who wrote the book on trigonometry that we used to study at Boxwood Hall?” asked Ned.

“The same,” murmured Professor Snodgrass. “Professor Petersen was an eminent mathematician, and the world did not fully estimate his worth. His mathematical work was only a branch 37 of his many-sided activities. Professor Petersen died about three months ago, and he left me a most peculiar legacy.”

“Peculiar in what way?” asked Ned.

“It is like this,” said the little scientist, as he pulled up a blade of grass, and examined it under a powerful hand glass to see if any strange insects might be crawling on it. “Professor Petersen, unlike most of us professional men, was very wealthy. He was a Swede, and his wealth came to him from his father. He never used much of it, and the money accumulated.

“After his death I was surprised to learn that he had made me one of his heirs, but under certain conditions. It appears that in his younger days Professor Petersen was estranged from his brother and sister, on account of some family matters. They received an equal share with him from their father’s estate, but they made unwise investments, and soon lost the major portion of their inheritances. The professor kept his. Perhaps that was one reason for the estrangement.

“At any rate, some coldness existed, and it was not until just before his death that the professor wished to be reconciled. Then it was too late, as his brother and sister were both dead. But each had left a daughter, and the young ladies were studying abroad—somewhere in France or Germany, I believe, when the war broke out. 38

“I was greatly surprised, when the will was made public, to learn that I was to have half the professor’s not inconsiderable wealth, on a certain condition.”

“And what condition?” remarked Jerry, as the professor hesitated.

“That condition is as follows. I am to seek out these two nieces of my dead friend and give them each a fourth of his estate. The other half I am to have for myself if I fulfill the trust. That is, I get it if I can succeed in finding the two girls, and I need not tell you that I shall be very glad of the large sum of money—not for myself, oh, no!” said Professor Snodgrass quickly, “but that I may devote it to the furtherance of the interests of science. If I can solve the problem, and find the two girls, I shall have a large sum at my disposal, and I can then fulfill a life-long desire to undertake the study of the insects of the Amazon River. That is what I have always desired to do since I took up my studies, but I always lacked the means. Now, if I succeed in finding these two girls, I shall have wealth enough to travel in South America.”

“And where are the girls?” asked Jerry.