“Oh, I haven’t got hold of his tail now,” explained Mr. Snodgrass, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “You see after he got down the hole he pulled loose his tail from my grasp, turned around, and before I knew it he had my hand in his mouth. That’s why I can’t pull my arm up. I have to lie here. In fact, I’ve been here some time, and when I saw this young man passing by I asked him to go for help,” and the professor indicated Andy.
“And I went—I ran—I jumped!” exclaimed the small chap. “I told the news—I brought help—I——”
“That’ll do, Andy,” said Ned gently, and the excitable lad subsided.
“We’ll soon help you!” said Mr. Glassford to the scientist. “Here,” he called to his two assistants. “Get some sticks, dig down through the earth to where the turtle has hold of this gentleman, and kill it.”
“Oh, no! Don’t, I beg of you! Not for worlds! Don’t kill it!” cried the professor. “It is a very valuable specimen, and I may never be able to get another like it.”
“But it is biting your hand!” cried Jerry.
“You may get blood poison,” added Ned.
“Oh, I have a heavy glove on,” explained the scientist, “and he can’t hurt me. But I wish you would dig him out, and then I could get him. But don’t hurt him. He’ll hold on until then, I guess, and really I don’t mind it a bit.”
“But you’ll get tired lying there,” objected Bob.