Andy was brimful of excitement.  His manner would forcibly remind one of the nervous tension that seizes upon the hounds when the scent grows strong, and they anticipate coming in sight of their quarry at any moment.

“We’re taking a good deal for granted, seems to me,” remarked Frank.

“Of course, but then see how queer it is that this man who calls himself a college professor, and collector of bugs and butterflies, should just happen to drop in here at the Hoskins farm, where the thistles grow so wild, and the moths and other things are to be found by thousands.  We never heard of him in town, that I can remember.  And then he’s small in size; together with a stiff arm, that was injured in an accident; well, wasn’t Casper Blue knocked out of his job as an air pilot by his arm failing him when he had to handle the levers like a flash, or have his aeroplane turn upside-down, Frank?  I tell you I just feel dead sure it’s our man, and that we’ve found the clue we want the first thing.”

“Well, if we could manage to get a peep into his room perhaps we would run across something worth while?” Frank suggested.

“We might pretend to be deeply interested in butterflies ourselves,” remarked Andy, “even if we don’t really know one kind from another; and perhaps, if you gave Sallie a sly hint that you’d be tickled to see what sort of a collection her professor has with him, she’d let us look in his room.”

“We’ll make the try, anyhow,” said Frank, firmly.

“But think of this Casper Blue being able to carry out the part of a learned professor, would you?  That is something most yeggmen would find a pretty hard proposition, don’t you say, Frank?”

“Well, stop and think a little, Andy,” was the other’s reply to this.  “From all accounts this man isn’t just a common, everyday hobo.  He used to be known as something of an aviator before he met with that accident that disabled his arm, and made it impossible for him to go up again.  And the fact is, I seem to remember having seen that name mentioned among a list of airmen who had been either killed, or knocked out by accidents happening to them.”

“That’s all right, Frank, but it takes a pretty smart man to carry out a part like he’s doing.”

“Didn’t Larry tell us that this same Casper Blue had once been an actor before he took to the air for a living?” asked Frank.

“You’re right, he did that same thing, but somehow it seemed to have slipped my mind.  But you never forget a single thing, do you, Frank?  And if he used to be an actor, why, of course Casper would find it easy to play this part.  Perhaps he’s just enjoying it the best you ever heard of.  Some people are never happy unless they’re hoodwinking others.”

“Let’s go back and find Sallie, and get to talking about butterflies and gypsy moths, and all sorts of things in that line we can think of,” suggested Frank.  “Then she’ll believe we’re head over ears interested in what her boarder is doing, and if I give her a little hint she may ask us to step in and take a peek at his room.  Of course we mightn’t pick up anything worth while there; and then again there’s always a little chance we could.”