CHAPTER XI

“WE’VE BEEN TRICKED!”

Sending the motor boat along slowly, for they were in no especial

hurry, the boys discussed the experience through which they had just

passed.

“Imagine finding Noddy Nixon there!” exclaimed Bob. “Next thing we know

Bill Berry will be showing up.”

“I didn’t see him there,” observed Ned. “He’d probably be among the

laborers, if he were there at all. But you wouldn’t catch Noddy soiling

his hands in the clay. The job of assistant foreman is about his limit.”

“I’m not so much surprised at seeing him, for the company bought part

of his father’s land,” spoke Jerry. “But what gets me is that clay!

It’s queer they should find a use for it.”

“Are you sure they have?” asked Ned.

“Well, they’re taking it out carefully enough,” responded the tall lad,

“and they wouldn’t do that if it didn’t have some value. We’ve got to

get busy on this. But don’t say anything to my mother, or she might

feel as though she had done wrong in selling the land.”

“Is there any chance of her getting it back, in case it develops that

there is a valuable deposit of mineral, or something else on it?” Bob

wanted to know.

“I’m afraid not,” Jerry answered. “But I’m going to have Professor

Snodgrass make another examination of the yellow clay.”

“How you going to get any of it?” asked Ned.

“Oh, I’ve got some of the first lump left yet. I’ll have him experiment

on that. He didn’t make a very exhaustive test before. I’ll take some

to Bellport when we go over this afternoon.”

But the boys were disappointed in their search for Professor Snodgrass

at Bellport. As we know, he had already left the hotel there, being

hastened on his way by the conspirators, for reasons of their own.

“No, the professor ain’t here, boys,” drawled Ike Rossiter, proprietor

of the Mansion House, where the scientist had written that he was

making his headquarters.

“Where did he go?” asked Jerry, eagerly.

“I don’t know,” replied Mr. Rossiter. “But I wish I did.”

“Why--does he owe you money?” Ned wanted to know, for the professor was

sometimes in the habit of absent-mindedly going off without paying his

bills, and the boys, several times, had made up the deficiency, for

which he reimbursed them later.

“No, he don’t owe me a cent,” said Mr. Rossiter. “Oh, he’s honest

enough, as far as that’s concerned.”

“Then why do you want him?” Bob asked.

“’Cause he left behind a box of funny bugs,” answered the hotel

proprietor, “and every woman servant in the place is so nervous, for

fear they’ll get loose and bite ’em, that they can’t do their work half

properly. Great big black bugs they are, in a wire box. The professor

left ’em behind in his room, and I had ’em brought down to the office.

I don’t want to turn ’em loose, for fear he might want ’em and bring

suit against me for losin’ ’em. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll take charge of them for you,” volunteered Jerry. “We expect to

see the professor soon. But can’t you give us any idea of where he has

gone?”

“Not in the least, boys. He left here suddenly, with a couple of men,

and all I heard ’em talkin’ about was a two-headed lizard, as if there

was any such critter.”

“Wasn’t it a two-tailed lizard?” asked Ned.

“Well, maybe it was,” admitted the hotel man. “I didn’t pay no

attention. But if you’ll take them bugs away I’ll be much obliged.

They’re big, fuzzy things, and they look dangerous.”

The boys readily assumed charge of the specimens the professor had

forgotten in his haste, but further questioning failed to bring out any

information as to his whereabouts.

“He must have gotten some clue, or what he thought was a clue, to the

location of the lizards,” observed Jerry, “and he started after them in

his usual hurry. He’ll be back again soon. But I don’t like the idea of

waiting for him. It will upset all our vacation plans.”

“Then why wait for him?” asked Bob.

“Oh, we don’t want to leave without him, after we half promised to take

him with us.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” went on Ned. “But let’s trail him.”

“Trail him? How can we?” asked Ned. “We haven’t the least idea where he

went.”

“No, but we might find out,” resumed the stout youth. “He would

probably leave word at his home, near Boston, where he could be

reached. He’d want his mail forwarded, too. You can be pretty sure that

his housekeeper knows his address.

“Now what’s the matter with us starting our trip, and calling at his

residence? We’re almost sure to get some information about him there.

And you can bring along that specimen of yellow clay, Jerry.”

“Good idea, Bob! We’ll do it!” cried the tall lad.

Further questioning of the hotel man brought out little that was

of value. Professor Snodgrass had been seen with two strangers in

Bellport, but only a meager description of them could be obtained.

No one had paid much attention to them. And beyond the fact that the

professor had been seen taking a northern-bound train, nothing further

was known of his destination. The ticket agent could not remember to

what destination the scientist had purchased a ticket.

“Well, we’ll go to his home, and start the search there,” decided

Jerry, as he put in the auto the lump of yellow clay, and the box of

bugs.

Preparations for the boys’ trip were quickly made, and a few days

later they were ready to start. And then came a disclosure that had a

startling effect.

Bob and Ned were at Jerry’s house, the evening before the start.

They were going over the final details, to see that they had omitted

nothing, when Ned, who was looking over a New York paper, uttered a

sudden exclamation.

“What’s up?” demanded Jerry.

“Lots!” cried Ned. “If this isn’t your yellow clay stuff, Jerry, I’m

mistaken!”

He pointed to a large advertisement of the Universal Plaster Company,

in which was announced the discovery of a new medicinal agent. It was

a plaster, or poultice, which it was claimed would work wonders with

sores, swellings, aches, pains and other maladies. And, amid a mass

of other information, were set down the facts that the preparation

was harmless, being composed of medicated clay from “the vicinity of

Cresville, Mass., where are located the largest and only beds of this

valuable earth in the world.”

The advertisement went on to tell how the clay had accidentally been

discovered, and how, after many experiments, it was found that it could

be mixed with medicinal agents that rendered it very valuable. The

successful efforts of the company to get control of the whole available

supply were noted, and there were appended to the advertisement

testimonials from many well-known physicians.

“And look there!” cried Ned, pointing to the extract from a scientist’s

letter. “Professor Snodgrass says he has analyzed the clay, and found

it exceedingly valuable for the purpose intended. See, there’s a

fac-simile of his signature boys!”

“That’s so,” spoke Bob, slowly.

Jerry looked at the professor’s printed letter. Then, as he took in

the import of the advertisement, and realized how his mother had sold

the valuable clay land for a tenth of its present value, the tall lad

exclaimed:

“Boys, we’ve been tricked! Professor Snodgrass has double-crossed us!”

And he banged the table with his fist.

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