Up he jumped to his feet, holding his long-handled butterfly net, and staring at the approaching runaways through his big glasses.
“Get out of the way!” yelled the truckman.
The professor ran forward, waving his arms. In one hand he held his broad-brimmed hat, while the other flourished the big, green net.
“Stop!” he cried, loud enough to be heard above the thunder of the wagon wheels. “Stop! Stop! Don’t come on any farther. You’ll smash it!”
“Huh! We know that!” yelled the truckman. “But you can’t make these horses stop by just inviting ’em to. Look out, or you’ll get hurt!”
But the professor came on, running straight at the runaways. Now he was almost under their feet, but with a wild yell he still advanced.
Suddenly he threw his hat in the face of one of the leading horses, and, with another quick motion, he crashed his long-handled net across the eyes of the other. Then, nimbly leaping to one side, the professor caught the broken, dangling rein, and braced back with all his might. Though a small man, he was powerful, and his weight told.
“That’s the stuff!” cried the truckman. In an instant he began pulling on the unbroken rein which he still held, and thus, with the professor on one side, being dragged along, and the driver sawing on the other line, the horses were pulled up evenly, a thing that had been impossible before.
“By Jove! I believe they’re going to stop!” cried Jerry, as he noticed a slackening in the speed of the horses.