And it was with considerable eagerness that they fastened
their eyes on the figure of the small, wiry man who was sauntering along
toward the farmhouse, carrying a butterfly-net across one shoulder,
while with his other hand he held a queer-shaped black case, which, as
Sallie said, contained his more recent captures in the way of beautiful
and rare moths and insects.
"That's his stiff arm, Frank; see how he moves it--the one hanging down,
I mean, with black box--good gracious! now, I wonder--"
"H'sh!" whispered Frank, "not so loud; he might hear you."
"Not with the roosters crowing like they are," said Andy confidently.
"But just glimpse the black box would you, Frank?"
"I am looking," returned the other.
"He calls it the receiver for his new butterflies, but looks more like a
kodak to me," Andy went on. "But d'ye know what I thought, Frank?"
"Tell me," whispered the other, still watching the professor, who had
come to a stop at some little distance away, and seemed to be busily
engaged looking back of him, as though laying out plans for an afternoon
campaign among the bright winged butterflies.
"Why, how easy for him to tear out the inside works of a camera box like
that, and make use of it for a better purpose, see?" Andy went on to
say.
"Oh! now you've got a bright thought for a fact," Frank sent back,
careful not to raise his voice above that cautious pitch.
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