“You had no right to come in the room of Mr. Snodgrass without knocking, or telling him,” said Jerry.
“I didn’t want to wake him up, when I brought in th’ water. An’ look at my door—all busted!” proceeded the farmer indignantly, looking at the portal Jerry had smashed. “Somebody’s got t’ pay fer that.”
“Yes, we’ll settle,” agreed Jerry, and then, as if fearing he might be asked embarrassing questions, Mr. Buttle suddenly departed, tramping indignantly down the stairs, and muttering meanwhile something about “crazy automobile folks thet carried wild animals with ’em!”
“Well, what do you think, fellows?” asked Ned, as they stood looking at each other in the dim illumination of the electric light Bob held.
“It looks rather funny,” declared the stout youth.
“It wouldn’t have been funny if my specimens had gotten away,” observed the scientist. “He knocked down the whole pile of boxes at my head, and that’s how some of them must have come open.”
“No, that’s not the way,” was Jerry’s opinion. “I’ll tell you what I think. I believe our host is a dangerous character, and I think he sneaked up, hoping the professor had money in those boxes. He was going to rob him, but the beetles turned the trick.”
“Do you really think so?” inquired Mr. Snodgrass.
“I certainly do,” replied the tall lad.
“And I agree with him,” added Ned. “I remember now that the professor spoke of his ‘valuables’ in the boxes, and I saw Mr. Buttle looking at him rather sharply. That’s just how it was. He thought he was going to make a good haul.”