“Jerry Hopkins!” cried the man and shook hands. “I am delighted to meet you!” And Uriah Snodgrass beamed on the boy. “How came you here? Do you think I can find any valuable bugs or butterflies in this neighborhood?”
“Don’t know about butterflies and bugs,” answered Jerry, with a grin, for he well remembered the failings of the old collector, who had accompanied the motor boys on their trip to Mexico and across the plains. “But what is this about your diamond ring?”
“Somebody has stolen it. And what is more, they have taken something even more valuable—a case full of choice specimens of mosquitoes!” And Uriah Snodgrass shook his head in despair.
“Mosquitoes!” snorted an attendant, in disgust.
“Ah! a rare collection, worth a thousand dollars or more!”
“I wouldn’t give you ten cents for a bushel of mosquitoes.”
“Well, I want them back—and I want my diamond ring,” said the professor.
“How did it happen?” asked Jerry.
“I don’t know exactly. I had been in the water about an hour. When I came out I dressed, and when I came to put my shoes on, before I put on my coat, vest and collar, I happened to think I had left my ring in the toe of my left shoe. I looked for it, and it was gone.”