“What’s he after now?” asked Jerry with a hopeless look at his companions.
“I don’t know. A new kind of five-legged bug or a reddish-green hoptoad,” whispered back Bob, for, though they were very fond of their friend the professor, they could not help, at times, cracking jokes concerning his pursuit after his quarry.
“Please don’t make a move!” called the scientist to the boys, without looking around. “I’ll have the beauty in a moment now!”
“If he keeps this up,” commented Ned, “we’ll never get to Durham in time to catch Mr. Jackson.”
“That’s so,” agreed Bob.
“But we need the professor’s help,” argued Jerry, “and if he knows Mr. Jackson, the latter may receive us better than he would if we came alone, and he may sign the papers more readily, Ned.”
“In that case I’ll stop the machine at every mile-post, and let the professor catch bugs to his heart’s content,” declared the merchant’s son, for he was very much in earnest in his efforts to aid his father.
“Ah! There he is! I have him!” suddenly exclaimed the professor, as he made a swoop with his net. The next minute he was holding a small portion of the flimsy cloth in his fingers, and inspecting at close range some fluttering captive.
“What is it?” called Jerry.
“Is it a valuable specimen?” Bob wanted to know.