Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Firing Line Part 5

"There was--considerable," admitted the professor. "Then you boys came in, and--well, it's all over now. But I surely feared for a moment they might shoot my snake."

"Yes, it was rather a close call," observed Bob. "But did you have a good dinner with the colonel?"

"Listen to him, would you!" protested Ned. "All he can think of is eating!"

"Cut it out!" growled Bob, as Ned poked him in the ribs. "I just wanted to know what sort of feed they give the officers."

"Oh," said Jerry significantly. "Merely an academic interest, I suppose."

"Sure!" a.s.sented Bob. "That's all."

"Well, the dinner was very good, though I cannot say that I remember what I ate," confessed the professor. "I was thinking too much of something else."

"Do you mean you were puzzled as to how to study the effect of the noises of the French battlefields on gra.s.shoppers and crickets?" asked Jerry.

"No," and the professor shook his head. "This is an altogether different problem. It is, as I might call it, the problem of two girls."

"Two girls!" cried the three Motor Boys in a chorus. "Two girls?"

They looked at the little professor, whose eyes, mildly blinking behind his strong gla.s.ses, regarded the lads curiously.

"Two girls," repeated the little scientist. "The problem I have to solve concerns two girls."

CHAPTER V

MORE GIRLS

Ned, Bob and Jerry looked at one another. Then they turned their glances on the professor.

"Whew!" softly whistled Jerry. "Can it be possible that our dear friend is in love--and with two girls at once? This is getting serious!"

It would have been had Jerry's diagnosis been correct. But it was wrong, as was proved a moment later, when the professor, with a sigh, resumed his narrative.

"Yes," he said, "I am much concerned over two girls--young ladies I suppose would be the more proper designation. I have never seen either of them."

Jerry breathed more freely, and so did his chums. Clearly if the professor had not seen the two girls he could not be in love with them. And the professor in love was something unthinkable. He never would have remembered, from one day to the next, the name of the favored lady.

"And, boys," went on Professor Snodgra.s.s, "I think you will agree with me that it is quite a problem to try to find in Europe, at this particular time, two girls I have never seen, that I may deliver to them a small fortune, and claim one myself."

"Say, this is getting worse and more of it!" cried Ned. "What does it all mean, Professor? Are you in earnest about these girls and the effect of war noises on insects?"

"I am in earnest about both problems--never more so," was the answer, and it needed but a glance at the face of the scientist to disclose this fact. "But perhaps I had better explain."

"Perhaps you had," said Jerry with a smile.

"And never mind about the insects--tell us about the girls," urged Bob.

"Yes, relieve his mind," agreed Ned. "He hasn't heard from his dear Helena in some hours, I guess."

"Oh, cut it out!" protested the stout lad.

"The two girls to whom I refer," went on Professor Snodgra.s.s, "are the nieces of my late friend, Professor Emil Petersen."

"The man who wrote the book on trigonometry that we used to study at Boxwood Hall?" asked Ned.

"The same," murmured Professor Snodgra.s.s. "Professor Petersen was an eminent mathematician, and the world did not fully estimate his worth.

His mathematical work was only a branch of his many-sided activities.

Professor Petersen died about three months ago, and he left me a most peculiar legacy."

"Peculiar in what way?" asked Ned.

"It is like this," said the little scientist, as he pulled up a blade of gra.s.s, and examined it under a powerful hand gla.s.s to see if any strange insects might be crawling on it. "Professor Petersen, unlike most of us professional men, was very wealthy. He was a Swede, and his wealth came to him from his father. He never used much of it, and the money acc.u.mulated.

"After his death I was surprised to learn that he had made me one of his heirs, but under certain conditions. It appears that in his younger days Professor Petersen was estranged from his brother and sister, on account of some family matters. They received an equal share with him from their father's estate, but they made unwise investments, and soon lost the major portion of their inheritances.

The professor kept his. Perhaps that was one reason for the estrangement.

"At any rate, some coldness existed, and it was not until just before his death that the professor wished to be reconciled. Then it was too late, as his brother and sister were both dead. But each had left a daughter, and the young ladies were studying abroad--somewhere in France or Germany, I believe, when the war broke out.

"I was greatly surprised, when the will was made public, to learn that I was to have half the professor's not inconsiderable wealth, on a certain condition."

"And what condition?" remarked Jerry, as the professor hesitated.

"That condition is as follows. I am to seek out these two nieces of my dead friend and give them each a fourth of his estate. The other half I am to have for myself if I fulfill the trust. That is, I get it if I can succeed in finding the two girls, and I need not tell you that I shall be very glad of the large sum of money--not for myself, oh, no!"

said Professor Snodgra.s.s quickly, "but that I may devote it to the furtherance of the interests of science. If I can solve the problem, and find the two girls, I shall have a large sum at my disposal, and I can then fulfill a life-long desire to undertake the study of the insects of the Amazon River. That is what I have always desired to do since I took up my studies, but I always lacked the means. Now, if I succeed in finding these two girls, I shall have wealth enough to travel in South America."

"And where are the girls?" asked Jerry.

"Somewhere in Germany or France," was the answer. "The latter country, I think. I have, among my papers, their last address. But since the war there is no telling where I may find them. I have written a number of letters, but have had no answers. Now I must go to seek them, and, at the same time, make a study of the effect of battle noises on crickets and gra.s.shoppers. Is it any wonder that I seem puzzled? Was there ever such a hard problem for a peace-loving scientist to solve?"

"It isn't going to be easy," admitted Ned. "Then you really expect to go across?"

"Yes. And since I understand you are going, we may go together; or at least meet there, for I suppose I shall not be allowed on a transport, being a civilian."

"Hardly," a.s.sented Jerry. "But if, as you say, you have pa.s.sports and credentials and letters of introduction, it may be arranged. You had better see our colonel. He seems to have taken quite a notion to you."

"Thank you; I will," promised the scientist. "And now I think I had better go back and see about Ticula and Pete b.u.mps. Pete may be worried about me."

"Just a moment," suggested Ned. "If we are to help you in the search for these two girls, we ought to know something more about them."

"That is right," a.s.sented the professor; "and I hope you will help me.

The problem of finding the two young ladies would be easy were it not for the war. But they have been missing since the conflict started, and I can get no trace of them. I hope they are still living, for, if they are dead, all the wealth Professor Petersen left goes to a humane society for the care of distressed cats and dogs and to provide a shelter for them. Not that I object to cats and dogs," he hastily added, "but I think some other form of scientific activity might be chosen. However, Professor Petersen was very peculiar, and, after all, it was his money. Will you boys help me?"

"Indeed we will!" cried Jerry. "But how are we to go about it? What part of France were the girls last in?"