Some of the crowd were laughing, and others took the words of the little scientist earnestly. Among them were the three motor boys, who well knew the value their friend attached to his living specimens.
“I’ll get it!” cried Jerry, toward whom the fish was flopping its way.
“No, I can nab it!” exclaimed Ned.
“Let me try for it!” suggested stout Bob.
It was like several out-field ball players each trying to catch a high fly.
Andy Rush, realizing that it was probably as much his fault as anyone’s that the fish had gotten out of the net, also made a dash forward.
“I’ll get it! I knocked it out! I’ll grab it! Put your foot on it! Rub your hands in sand and then it won’t slip out! Hit it with a club! Grab it! I’ll get it!” spluttered Andy.
“No! No! Don’t hurt it! Don’t hit it, or kill it! If you use violent measures the fish will be spoiled as a specimen!” cried Professor Snodgrass. “I had rather let it get in the water, and net it again, than to harm it.” He danced about excitedly.
But no one seemed to pay any attention to him. Nor did the little scientist notice our three friends. His attention was all on the escaping specimen.
“I have it!” cried Andy, suddenly throwing himself forward, full length on the dock. The fish was just ahead of him, and it seemed that the small chap must capture it.