THE PROFESSOR’S STORY
Bob Baker caused a sudden ripple of laughter, which sounded strange
amid the tense silence, when he murmured:
“Gosh, I hope it isn’t those mountain lions!”
“They don’t make a noise like that,” said Tinny. “This sounds more like
a human being.”
“We’ve got to find out what it is, anyhow,” declared Jerry. “It seems
to be over this way--that noise of groaning.”
He darted off toward the spring, followed by his companions. As they
crashed their way through the underbrush the sounds became plainer.
“Is anybody coming? Can’t some one help me?” were the low-murmured
questions that came to the ears of the rescuers, interspersed with
groans of pain.
“Yes! Yes! Some one is coming to help you!” cried Ned. “Who are you,
anyhow?”
Before he could receive an answer, even had the groaning one been able
to answer, Jerry had burst his way through the last fringe of bushes,
and, with a cry of surprise mingled with one of rage, he beheld, bound
to a tree and partly gagged, the helpless form of Professor Snodgrass.
“I’ve found him! I’ve found him!” shouted Jerry.
“Who--Bill?” demanded Tinny Mallison.
“No, the professor,” answered the tall lad. “The Nixon crowd must have
tried to kidnap him, too! It’s all right, Professor. Don’t struggle!
We’ll soon release you,” promised Jerry.
The others came up the wooded and brush-covered hillside on the
run, and in a few seconds the professor’s bonds had been cut, the
gag--a piece of wood bound in his open mouth by cords which passed
around behind his head--had been taken out, and the mistreated little
scientist was given a drink of water, of which he stood in great need.
“Ah!” he murmured, as he drained the cup a second time, “that’s good.
But let me see if they’re there! Look, will you please, and tell me!
Are they there?”
He pointed toward what seemed to be a small cave in the side of the
hill. The dark opening was near a clump of bushes.
“Whom do you mean?” asked Bob. “Did Noddy Nixon and his crowd hide in
there?”
“No, I mean some large moths,” the scientist answered. “They were
flying about and I was trying to catch them. I saw them going into that
opening, and then it all happened--happened so suddenly that it was
like a clap of thunder. I didn’t have time to see whether or not the
moths went in. I must find out. They were very rare specimens!”
Staggering to his feet--for his legs were weak from the cramped
position he had been obliged to stand in--the professor made his way
toward the little cave.
“Wait a minute! Tell us what happened!” cried Jerry.
“Show us which way Noddy Nixon went!” added Ned.
“No! No! There is time enough for that,” answered Professor Snodgrass.
“First I must see whether I can get any of those moths. It doesn’t
matter what happened to me.”
“No, but it means a lot what may happen to poor old Bill,” murmured
Jerry.
However, there was no stopping the professor once he had his mind set
on a project. He crawled into the cave, weak and trembling as he was
from brutal treatment. And presently his cry of joy announced that he
had been partly successful at least.
Out of the little cave he crawled, covered with dirt and cobwebs, but
cupped in his hands he held something fragile, to judge by the care he
exercised.
“Please hand me one of my specimen boxes, Jerry,” he directed.
“Where are they?” asked the tall lad, looking about.
“Over by that stunted pine. I hope you can find one that isn’t smashed.”
“Smashed! Did they smash your boxes, Professor?” asked Mr. Mallison.
“They did worse than that!” replied Professor Snodgrass. “I’ll tell you
all about it in a moment. Quick, Jerry, if you please, the box! I don’t
want this moth to get away. It was the only one left in the cave, but
it is a very rare specimen--a beauty! Hurry with the box, Jerry!”
The tall lad could not repress a cry of surprise when, once at the foot
of the stunted pine, he saw what wreck and havoc had been wrought. But
there was no time now for regrets. He managed to find one small, but
whole, specimen box, and the fluttering moth was transferred to it
safely from the cupped hands of the professor.
“Now that you have him safe, can’t you tell us what happened?” asked
Tinny Mallison, a bit impatiently. He was accustomed to quick action,
and once he had started a task he liked to finish it--“mop it up,” as
he used to express it in France. Just now he wanted to be after the
Nixon gang to rescue his mine foreman.
“Yes, now I can tell you,” the professor said. “As you have guessed,
it was that miserable Noddy Nixon and Jack Pender. They had a stranger
with them----”
“It must have been Dolt Haven,” suggested Bob. “But you saw him before.”
“I don’t remember,” the professor stated. “Though I do seem to recall
having heard you speak of him.”
“But was Bill with them? Did they have Bill?” cried Jerry.
“Yes, Cromley was with them. I caught a glimpse of him lying bound and
gagged on the bottom of the wagon. That’s what made them attack me,”
said Uriah Snodgrass. “I tried to go to the rescue of Cromley, but they
attacked me, and they smashed my specimen boxes--all but this one,”
and he looked at the container Jerry had handed him. “Worse than that,
they let out every one of my specimens! Some I hadn’t yet put in the
cyanide, and they were alive. They released them all--and they were the
rarest specimens I ever had. Oh, it was terrible!”
“But did they do anything to you?” asked Mallison. “It looks so,
judging by the state of your clothes.”
“Yes, they didn’t treat me any too gently,” he answered. “But that
doesn’t matter--or it wouldn’t have mattered--if they had only left me
my specimens! Oh, it is terrible to lose all those lovely specimens!”
“You should have had some _vespa maculata_ with you,” remarked Bob.
“I only wish I had had! A nest full of hornets would have sent those
rascals flying!” declared Uriah Snodgrass.
“But you haven’t yet told us what happened or given us a clew by which
we can trail Noddy,” objected Tinny.
“I’m coming to that,” promised the professor. “Just give me another
drink of water, will you please, Ned?”
The cup was passed, after having been filled at the spring, and then
Bob asked:
“Don’t you want something to eat? We have plenty of sandwiches.”
“Thank you, I don’t seem to have any appetite now,” was the despondent
reply. “Perhaps later. But let me tell you what happened. I came out
after specimens, as you know. I was up here on the side of the hill
when I heard the rattle of wagon wheels on the road below.
“Looking down, I saw an ore vehicle, lying on the bottom of which was
our friend, Bill Cromley, bound and gagged. Then I saw who was driving
the horses. It was that Nixon chap, and I at once guessed something was
wrong, remembering your talk of how he was trying to get Cromley to
impart information about the location of the treasure chest.
“I rushed down the hillside, intending to rescue Cromley, for I guessed
they had kidnaped him, but the three ruffians at once attacked me. I
heard Jack Pender say: ‘Let’s gag him and tie him to a tree. We can’t
take him with us, but we don’t want him loose to spy on us.’ The others
agreed to this.
“They overpowered me in spite of my struggles, and, after putting in my
mouth the piece of wood which prevented my exercising my vocal powers
to any extent at all, they bound me to the tree.”
The professor was taking his own time and telling his story in his
own way, but the Motor Boys knew from past experiences that the more
they interrupted to ask questions the longer and more involved the
explanation would be. So they let him proceed in his own way, by
gestures cautioning Mallison to do the same.
“I could only guess at their object in capturing Cromley and in binding
me,” went on Professor Snodgrass, “for I had no chance to ask them
questions. They treated me roughly, but I could have forgiven that if
they had not injured my specimens.
“But after they had bound me to the tree and made it impossible for me
to call out, they deliberately and maliciously stamped on, trampled
over, and broke and smashed all my precious specimens and boxes. I had
left them on the ground while I rushed to the rescue of Cromley, and
that Nixon chap, seeing them, sneered:
“‘We’ll make him wish he had let us alone!’ He stamped on and broke the
first box and then he and Pender took turns in the work of devastation.
I must say, though, that the third fellow did not join in this ruthless
work. I must give him that credit.”
“Probably Noddy and Jack didn’t give him the chance,” said Jerry.
“Those two have enough meanness under their hides for half a dozen Dolt
Haven fellows.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” sighed the professor. “Well, at any rate, after
they had bound and gagged me, and smashed my valuable specimens, to say
nothing of the boxes, I heard them drive off, of course taking poor
Cromley with them. He, too, was gagged, so he couldn’t talk to me.
“After they had gone I struggled and tried to get loose, but the ropes
were too tight. However, I did manage to work the wooden gag partly
out of my mouth so I could say a few words and groan, and that I did to
the best of my ability.”
“It’s well you did, or we might have gone on and never heard you,”
stated Ned.
“Did you come out to rescue me?” asked Uriah Snodgrass.
“No, we knew nothing of what had happened to you,” answered Jerry. “We
are on the trail of Noddy, to get Bill back, and we took this road,
among others. Can you tell us which way they went?”
“No; I couldn’t see. And I’m sorry, boys, but I don’t even remember how
their wagon was headed when I did see them. They might have been coming
up this way or going down. I don’t know.”
“I think we’d better keep on the way we’ve started,” observed Tinny.
Before any one else had a chance to express an opinion Bob raised his
hand for silence and murmured:
“I hear something coming.”
In the quiet that followed the noise of wagon wheels rattling on the
hard road was heard.
“Some vehicle is approaching!” whispered Ned excitedly.