"There's more—a heap more," he cried excitedly.
"But how—what—" stammered Jared, whose wits were slow on untrodden paths.
"It's old Marvin's son—don't you see?" interrupted Squire Fletcher impatiently. "He 's big!—famous!"
"'Famous'! What for?"
"Zounds, man!—did n't you hear?" snarled the Squire. "He's a famous entomologist. It's his bugs and spiders."
"Gosh!" ejaculated Jared, his hand seeking the bald spot on the back of his head. "Who'd ever have thought it? Gorry! Let's have a look at it." And he opened the paper and peered at the print with near-sighted eyes.
It was on Monday, three days later, that Jared, Seth, and the Squire were once more accosted in the hotel office by a man they did not know.
"Good-evening, gentlemen, I—"
"You don't even have to say it," cut in Jared, with a nourish of both hands. "We know why you're here without your telling."
"An' you've come ter the right place, sir—the right place," declared Seth Wilber, pompously. "What Professor Marvin don't know about bugs an' spiders ain't wuth knowin'. I tell ye, sir, he's the biggest entymollygist that there is ter be found."