Quite a crowd of villagers came out to see the auto as it chug-chugged up to the ferry landing, and not a few of the children and dogs were in danger of being run over until Ned, who was steering, cut out the muffler, and the explosions of the gasolene, unconfined by any pipes, made so much noise that all except the grown men were frightened away.
There was no one at the ferry house, and after diligent inquiries it was learned that the captain and crew of the boat had gone off to a dance about five miles away.
“I guess we’ll have to stay on this side after all,” remarked the professor. “I think—”
What he thought he did not say, for just then he happened to catch sight of something on the shoulder of one of the Mexicans, who had gathered in a fringe about the machine.
“Stand still, my dear man!” called the professor, as with cat-like tread he crept toward the native.
“Diabalo! Santa Maria! Carramba!” muttered the man, thinking, evidently, that the old scientist was out of his wits.
“Don’t move! Please don’t move!” pleaded Mr. Snodgrass, forgetting in his excitement that his hearer could not understand his language. “There is a beautiful specimen of a Mexican katy-did on your coat. If I get it I will have a specimen worth at least thirty dollars!”
He made a sudden motion. The Mexican mistook the import of it, and, seemingly thinking he was about to be assaulted, raised his hand in self defense, and aimed a blow at the professor.
It was only a glancing one, but it knocked the scientist down, and he fell into the road.
“There, the katy-did got away after all,” Mr. Snodgrass exclaimed, not seeming to mind his personal mishap in the least.