Don Elvardo heard him.
“So!” he exclaimed. “You will not pay me one little hundred dollars for the damage. Caramba! Then it is I who shall at once lodge a complaint with the authorities. We will see if there is a law in the land, or if crazy Americanos can spoil a poor man’s crop and pay nothing. We shall see!”
“Offer him ten dollars,” suggested Bob. The boys consulted together a minute or two. They wanted to be fair, but they did not care to be robbed. The professor had taken no part in the discussion. He seemed to be intently examining the tall grass on either side of the machine.
Suddenly the scientist stepped from the side of the car, and rapidly made his way to the front, where Don Elvardo stood. Mr. Snodgrass gazed intently at the Mexican. Then he gave a leap toward the Don, exclaiming as he did so:
“There it is! Right on your hat! Don’t move an inch or it will jump away! I have it now! This is indeed a lucky day! Just a second and I’ll have it!”
With that the professor made a leap toward the Mexican with outstretched hands.
“Santa Maria! Diavolo?” screamed Don Elvardo as he saw the scientist coming for him. “Caramba! It is to murder me that you come!”
Then, calling for help at the top of his voice, the Mexican turned and fled in terror, his course being marked through the tall grass by the wave-like motion he imparted to the plumes in his haste.
“Why—why what in the world ails him?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“He probably thought you were going to choke him to death,” said Jerry with a laugh. “In fact your actions were not so very far from giving that idea.”