Surprise manifested on his face, Andy leaped back out of reach of the butterfly net that was extended toward him. The scientist took another forward step. Andy leaped back still more, and then, as if alarmed at the manner of the bug-collector, the boy turned and ran down the street.
“Hold on! Come back here at once! I want you! You must not get away from me! Stop I say!”
The race was on, each one running at top speed.
“Don’t let him catch me! Don’t!” yelled Andy, working his legs to their limit. “I didn’t mean anything! I wasn’t making fun of the flying frog! Don’t catch me!”
“Stop! Stop I say!” ordered the professor imperiously.
“By Jove!” exclaimed Jerry. “The professor is angry at Andy. He thinks he’s been making game of him. If he catches him he may hurt the little fellow.”
“What, the professor? He wouldn’t hurt a fly unless he wanted it for a specimen,” spoke Ned.
“Maybe that’s what he wants of Andy—he’s so little,” ventured Bob.
“Well, he’ll soon have him at the rate he’s going,” predicted Jerry, for the scientist was now almost up to the small fellow, who was still begging to be let alone, while the professor was shouting:
“Stop! Stop I say! Come back here at once!”