Preparations for the evening meal were well under way, and the Comet was shooting along at good speed. The boys were thinking of many things. Ned and Jerry were wondering if it would be possible for them to get a submarine, while Bob, during such time as his attention was taken from his cooking, was wondering if his uncle and cousin were safely home, and what it was Mr. Sheldon had brought from Germany.
Suddenly from the bow of the ship, where Professor Snodgrass had gone to look for specimens, there came a cry of pain. Ned and Jerry leaped to their feet.
“What is it?” cried the tall youth, running forward.
“Have you caught something?” asked Ned eagerly.
“Ha! It would be more correct to say that something has caught me!” returned the professor. “Hurry, boys, it’s a great big beetle, and he’s pinching me. I daren’t knock him off because I want him for a specimen. Oh, how he pinches!”
The two chums saw a comical sight—or, it would have been funny had it not been for the look of pain on the face of the scientist.
He stood near the pilot house, an insect net under one arm, and a cyanide bottle—for painlessly killing his specimens—under the other. His left hand was tightly closed, while, dangling from the other was a large, black and squirming bug, that seemed to be hanging on by the simple process of making his pincers meet in the flesh of the professor’s thumb.
“Oh, boys! Take him off! He is hurting me dreadfully!” cried the scientist. “But be very careful, as he is a most rare and valuable specimen.”
“Why don’t you take him off yourself—you know how to handle those creatures,” suggested Ned, who did not much fancy plucking off the vicious-looking black beetle.
“I—I can’t,” said the professor. “I have a new kind of upper-air fly in this other hand, and if I open it he’ll get away. I had caught that, and was reaching for the beetle, when he pinched me. I’m glad he’s holding on, though, for it will give you a chance to get him.”