The good news of the location of Mr. Jackson was so unexpected, that, for a few moments the little party in Mr. Slade’s office hardly knew how to take it. Then they all began talking at once, at least the boys did, until the merchant, with a laugh, remarked that they were making so much noise that the clerks would think something serious had happened. This quieted the three chums.
“Well, we’d better get started,” urged Jerry. “Mr. Jackson may get away from Durham any minute.”
“Oh, I don’t believe he’s as bad as that,” ventured Mr. Slade. “If he’s there for his health he’ll be likely to remain for some time. I’d go see him myself, but I dare not leave my business at this critical juncture.”
“Oh, we’re only too glad to try and get into touch with him for you,” asserted Bob. “How can we tell him if we meet him? Does Ned know him?”
“No,” answered Mr. Slade’s son. “I never saw him, but dad has his picture.”
“Then we can take that along, and do a little detective work,” suggested Jerry. “We’ll inquire for a Mr. Jackson, and if he’s like the picture he’ll be our man.”
“I’m afraid the photograph wouldn’t be of great help,” said Mr. Slade. “It was taken a number of years ago, and I fancy Mr. Jackson has changed much in that time. However, I can describe him to you, and give you a letter to him, and that may answer. As I said, I ought really to go myself, but if I left here, my enemies would only make more trouble for me. Mr. Jackson is the only man who can help me.”
There was more talk, and Mr. Slade gave his son and the latter’s chums some directions as to how to proceed. He also made out certain documents, which, if Mr. Jackson would sign, would end the department store troubles.
“Now to get our auto in shape!” exclaimed Jerry as they prepared to leave the store. “I hope we can get some speed out of the machine without too much tinkering.”
“We’ll give it a try-out,” decided Bob. “Take a little run this afternoon, and see how she works.”
The car the boys now owned was not the one they had had originally. It was a more powerful machine, though so interested had our friends been in airship matters of late, that they had not given their auto much use.
That afternoon saw the three chums speeding down a quiet highway that led out of Cresville. The auto ran well, but they discovered a few defects and arranged to have them remedied at a garage.
“Then we’ll start for Durham the first thing to-morrow, fellows!” cried Bob enthusiastically. “Say, it’s fun to be doing something again. It’s like old times!”
“It sure is,” agreed Jerry. “Can’t you put on a little more speed, Ned?” For the merchant’s son was at the wheel. “Cut out the muffler, and use the accelerator pedal more. Make believe we’re after Noddy Nixon, and that he’s getting away from us. We may need speed if we have to race after Mr. Jackson.”
They were ascending a hill, and Ned had turned on all the power he dared use, when, as he swung around a bend, a small man suddenly darted out right in front of the machine.
“Look out!” yelled Jerry, leaning forward and grasping the lap robe rail in front of him.
“Jam on the brakes! Toot your horn!” cried Bob.
Ned did not answer. He had instinctively done three things, blown the horn, jammed on the foot and emergency hand brake, and had turned to one side. He also gave a loud yell.
But the man who had so suddenly brought about this commotion, paid not the least attention to the trouble he had caused. With a small net on the end of a long pole, extended in front of him, he was chasing a brilliant little red butterfly, which was flitting along, all unconscious of the danger so close to him.
Suddenly the net went down with a swoop, and the butterfly was out of sight.
“I got him! I got him! I have the little beauty! One of the rarest butterflies in this section of the country! It’s worth fifty dollars if it’s worth a cent! Oh, you little darling, I have you!” And the man went down on his hands and knees to get the prize from under the net.
“Well, wouldn’t that make you—” began Ned, as he eased up on his foot pressure, and shut off the power.
What he started to say he never finished, for Jerry cried out:
“If that isn’t Professor Uriah Snodgrass, I’ll drink a pint of gasolene!”
“Eh? What’s that? Were you calling me?” asked the little man in a mild voice, looking up sideways from his kneeling position on the ground. “Who wants Professor Snodgrass?” he inquired, peering through his spectacles.
Then he caught sight of the boys, who were alighting from the car. Over his face there came a smile of welcome. He got up, holding in a section of the net, carefully gathered up in his fingers, the red butterfly.
“Well of all the good luck!” cried the professor. “Here I meet my friends the motor boys again, when I least expect it. One moment, my dear boys, until I have put this specimen safely away, and I’ll be with you. Well, of all the strange and remarkable coincidences! I was just thinking of you, when I saw this butterfly dart out of the bushes, and of course, I took after it.”
“And nearly made an end to your collecting fad forever,” said Jerry.
“How’s that?” asked the professor.
“We nearly ran you down,” explained Bob.
“Oh, that? A mere trifle!” said the odd little scientist. “I run chances like that half a dozen times a day. I would risk almost anything for such a specimen. And what would I not risk if I could find the prize I am after?”
“Are you after something new?” asked Bob, as he watched Mr. Snodgrass carefully put away in the cyanide bottle the red butterfly.
“Yes, something very new,” answered Mr. Snodgrass. “I have been commissioned by the museum, for which I collect specimens, to get them a singing fish.”
“A singing fish?” cried Ned, thinking it was a joke.
“A singing fish,” replied the scientist. “That is, it does not exactly sing, but when taken from the water it makes a peculiar sound. It is said to be the only fish that does this. But, in addition, it has the power of flying for short distances out of the water, and it can also swell itself up to about twice its natural size. So you see it is a very valuable specimen to get, and very, very rare.”
“But you can’t find it on land,” objected Jerry.
“No, my dear boy,” admitted the professor, as he shook hands with his friends, “but I expect to shortly make a trip on the ocean. Then I hope to get my singing fish. I wish you boys were going on some voyage, and I could go with you.”
“We are going on a trip, but it’s mostly a land trip,” explained Ned. “We may use the airship, though. It all depends; and if Jerry carries out his plans, and attaches the hydroplanes, we might make a sea trip, but that’s all in the air as yet. We’re looking for a certain man.”
“And I’m searching for a rare fish,” went on the scientist. “At odd times I collect whatever specimens come in my way.”
“What are you doing in this part of the country?” asked Ned. “I thought you were in Boston.”
“So I am, but I heard of a man out this way who knows the habits of the singing fish, and I want to get some information from him. So I came on, and, as the man was not at home I improved my opportunity by strolling out into the country to see what I could find.
“I have been very fortunate; I find the red butterfly, and I meet my former friends. Both are most delightful surprises. But, may I ask, who is the man you are seeking?”
“Mr. Wescott Jackson,” answered Ned, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Wescott Jackson! Not the wealthy promoter?” cried Professor Snodgrass.
“That’s the man,” declared Jerry.
“Well, if that isn’t odd!” exclaimed the scientist. “Why I know him. In fact, he and I are great friends. He is one of the trustees of the museum where I am employed, and I once did him a great favor, in getting him a certain old rare Aztec altar, for he collects antiques. Yes, I know Mr. Jackson quite well.”
“Then you are the very man for us!” cried Ned in great delight. “Here, we can’t lose sight of you. Hop into the auto, professor. You help us locate Mr. Jackson, and we’ll help you get the singing fish! Is that a bargain?”
Mr. Snodgrass gazed through his spectacles at the boys for a moment.
“It is!” he exclaimed suddenly, as he got up into the auto; and Ned started off the machine.