PROFESSOR SNODGRASS
For a moment Jerry’s chums looked at him curiously, and then Ned
exclaimed:
“That’s right! There may be something back of all this. Come on, Bob,
help get some of this mud.”
“Say, it’s nasty and sticky,” complained the stout youth, who was
somewhat fastidious about his personal appearance.
“Oh, never mind!” laughed Jerry, who did not mind soiling his hands.
“I only want a little for analysis. I’ve got enough,” and he wrapped a
chunk in some green leaves that he pulled from a wild grapevine.
“And you really think it might be of some value?” asked Ned, washing
his hands in a pool of water, for he had dug up a small chunk of the
yellow clay for Jerry.
“As I said, I’m not a bit sure--only suspicious,” spoke the tall lad.
“It’s worth taking a chance on, that’s all. And certainly, if what
Fussel says is true, and he’s draining the swamp, mother’s land won’t
be of any use unless that’s drained also. And, in case there’s no
value in this clay, she might as well get rid of her property to this
concern, that has offered a good price--that is, if there’s nothing
back of it.”
“Then if you can’t find anything valuable in this clay you’ll advise
her to sell?” asked Ned.
“I think so. And from the fact that several persons have tried to find
some use for this yellow mud, and have failed, I’m not very hopeful,”
went on Jerry. “But it would be a fine thing if mother could make some
money out of this swamp land. For she has lost considerable of late.”
“Has she?” asked Bob, sympathetically. “I thought you said a few days
ago that it wasn’t much.”
“It’s turned out worse since then,” and Jerry’s usually smiling face
wore a worried look. “In fact, fellows, my mother may be very glad to
sell this swamp land,” he went on.
“No wonder he was absent-minded,” confided Bob to Ned in a whisper, as
they got in the motor boat, while Jerry was busy loosing the bow line.
“Yes--I had no idea the trouble was so serious,” admitted Ned. “Well,
we’ll help him if we can.”
“That’s what!” agreed the stout youth, heartily.
On the way down Cabbage Creek the boys talked of the clay-diggers,
speculating as to what could be their object. But they could arrive at
no definite conclusion.
“I wonder if you’re of any use after all?” exclaimed Jerry, kicking the
lump of yellow clay at his feet.
“It might be good to caulk a boat,” suggested Ned, “and I see we’ve got
a little leak here,” he added, as he pointed to some water in the pit
below the flywheel of the motor.
“That comes in through the stuffing-box,” said Jerry. “It just needs a
little tightening. We’ll haul her out to-morrow.”
“Yes, we ought to get her in good trim, and take a long trip,”
suggested Bob. “We could pack up a lot of grub----”
“There he goes! Grab him before he makes it any worse!” laughed Ned,
extending a hand to clap over Bob’s mouth. But the fat lad evaded his
tormentor.
“That’s all right!” Bob protested. “We’ll want something to eat if we
go on a cruise; won’t we?”
“Sure we will!” agreed Jerry. “Don’t let him worry you, Bob. He’s just
as fond of eating as you are, Chunky, only he hides his bad habit. But,
seriously, fellows, what are we going to do this vacation?”
“We ought to do something,” declared Ned. “Every summer we have gone
somewhere, or done something. I wouldn’t mind finding another buried
Mexican city.”
“Me either!” cried Bob. “Or locating the hermit of Lost Lake.”
“That wasn’t a bad stunt,” admitted Jerry. “I don’t know as I care
for a trip like our last one, though, in a submarine. It’s a little
too uncertain, especially when you’re cooped up under the sea with a
madman.”
“You’ve said it!” cried Bob. “I think our airship stunts were about
as good as any. The time we went after that fortune we had lots of
exciting times.”
“And when we were over the ocean, looking for the lost dirigible--that
kept us guessing,” said Ned.
“Quit it, fellows,” begged Jerry. “You’re getting me all excited. I
want to start off on a trip right now!”
“Why don’t we?” asked Bob, quickly.
Jerry, for answer, kicked the lump of clay at his feet.
“I first want to get this business settled,” said the tall lad. “After
that I may go off somewhere.”
“Don’t forget us,” urged Ned. “We want to be in it.”
“Oh, we’ll all go together,” Jerry agreed. “It won’t take long to
settle the question about this clay, I think. And then we can go off on
a trip. What’ll we take--the airship, motor boat or automobile?”
“All three!” cried Bob.
“That’s a little too much of a proposition,” laughed Jerry. “We might
cut out the airship, and take turns using the car and this boat. We
could send the car on ahead, and after a long cruise pick up the auto
at some place, journey as far as we liked in that, and come back to the
boat.”
“That sounds good!” cried Ned. “Let’s do it!”
None of the chums realized under what strange circumstances they were
soon to take a trip of that sort.
“Well, we’ll think about it,” agreed Jerry, as he guided the boat on
her homeward course.
With this new thought to occupy their minds the boys found plenty to
talk about, varying their remarks occasionally with references to the
clay-diggers.
“Jerry,” began Ned, diffidently, “if you’re short of cash, you know--I
mean if your mother’s investments--oh, hang it! Say, if you want a
loan, you know where to come for it!” he cried.
“Say, count me in on that!” added Bob, with energy.
“I’ve got my mining stock,” went on Ned, “and you know if it hadn’t
been for you we wouldn’t have that! So call on me for all you want,
Jerry!”
“And me, too!” interjected Bob.
“That’s awfully good of you fellows,” spoke Jerry, his voice a bit
husky. “But it isn’t as bad as that. I have my stock, too, when it
comes to that. But I don’t imagine we’ll go to the poor house this
year. I appreciate your offers just the same.”
The boys were in receipt of comfortable sums of money from a gold mine
they had helped an old miner to recover, as told in a previous volume.
Winding in and out, along the devious channel of Cabbage Creek, the
motor boat finally reached the broader river that led to the dock near
Jerry’s house. As the craft approached the little pier the boys saw a
small crowd assembled on it.
“Hello! Something’s up!” exclaimed Jerry, who was guiding the swift
craft.
“Hope nobody has fallen overboard,” observed Ned, anxiously.
A moment later they heard a shrill voice crying:
“He’s got it! There it is! Hold his legs, somebody! Don’t let him fall
in! Oh, he’s got it! A big one, too!”
“That’s Andy Rush!” cried Bob. “It sure is!”
“Yes, and somebody is evidently in the water,” chimed in Ned. “Hurry
up!”
“No, he spoke of an ‘it,’” declared Jerry. “And there isn’t quite
enough excitement to indicate a drowning.”
“Well, speed up and see what it is,” suggested Ned.
“Hurray! He’s got it!” cried Andy Rush, and the excitable chap could be
seen dancing about the outer edge of the crowd on the dock.
Jerry guided the boat to the stringpiece. The crowd moved back, and
parted. A small man, who had been stretched out full length, with his
head and shoulders over the edge of the wharf, suddenly arose. He had a
small net in his hands, and something in the meshes was wiggling.
“I have it!” cried the little man. His hat fell off, revealing a
shiny bald head and a pair of spectacled eyes. “I have it!” he cried
again. “The finest specimen of a calico bass I have ever seen! Now my
collection is complete!”
He held the dripping net and the wiggling fish afloat, and then his
eyes fell on the boys.
“Professor Snodgrass!” cried Bob.
Jerry said nothing. He shut off the motor, and, as he looked at the
lump of yellow clay in the bottom of the boat, he thought:
“This is most opportune! I’ll get Professor Snodgrass to analyze this
for me.”