“Softly—softly!” exclaimed the little man, speaking to himself. “Easy now. I have you, my beauty. Long have you escaped me, but I am on your trail. Ah! Don’t move now. Softly! There!”
He banged the net down on the tire, sprang forward and caught the meshes between his fingers. Through his bespectacled eyes he peered eagerly at what he thought he had captured. A disappointed look came on his face.
“Got away again!” he muttered. Then he looked up and saw the party in the auto watching him. He did not seem in the least surprised. At once his eyes fastened on Jerry.
“Don’t move! Don’t move! I beg of you!” he cried to the boy. “Don’t stir as you value your life. I’ll lose one thousand dollars if you move the hundredth part of an inch! Easy now. Ah! There you are, my little brown beauty. Don’t move, my boy, and I’ll catch it in a second!”
Somewhat puzzled at the little man’s words, Jerry sat still. His companions saw on his back the little brown butterfly that had escaped from the tire.
Quickly the little man brought his net down on Jerry’s shoulders. Once more the meshes were eagerly grasped, and this time it seemed with success, for the little man set up a yell of delight and capered about like a boy who has found a hornets’ nest.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he cried. “One of the rarest butterflies that exist. I’ve been chasing after this one all day. I knew I’d get it. But pardon me, gentlemen. No doubt you are surprised. Allow me to introduce myself. Professor Uriah Snodgrass, A. M., Ph.D., M. D., F. R. G. S., etc.”
“Is that all, pardner?” asked Nestor, with a grin.
“I contemplate taking the degree of B. A. this winter, when I have completed my study of the fauna and flora of the prairies,” replied the little man.