o
begin."

"What?" cried Ned. "You don't mean to say you, too, are going to
France, Professor?"

"I hope to," was the answer. "I have arranged to go, and I have my
passport and some letters of introduction."

"But what are you going for?" asked Bob. "Don't you know you will be
in the midst of terrible fighting? You can't solve any problems there.
It will be a bedlam of noise."

"And the noise is just what I want," said Mr. Snodgrass. "That is one
of my problems--to find out the effect of noise on the organisms of
certain insects and reptiles. Men suffer from shell shock, and why
should not insects suffer from the terrific noise of bursting guns?
Most insects are noise-producers themselves," he went on, in something
of his class-room manner, which the boys so well remembered at Boxwood
Hall. "The grasshopper, the katydid and the cricket, to give them
their common names, each have a song of their own. These insects are
found in France, as well as here, though in somewhat different form.

"Now I have a theory that a long-continued series of terrific noises
may produce structural changes in insects, so as to change the
character of their 'songs' as I prefer to call their sounds. This can
best be studied on the battlefields of France, though I suppose I
could get the same effect here, if there was a continuous thunderstorm
with vivid lightning.

"But, as that condition is impossible to bring about, I shall best
find it in France, and thither I am going, soon I hope. This snake
experiment is only a brief one, undertaken at the behest of a friend
of mine who is writing a book on the feeding habits of pythons."

"Is that what brought you back to our camp?" asked Jerry.

"Yes. This particular part of the South at this season of the year has
the very climate suited to pythons and other large snakes of the
tropics."

"I'm sure it's hot enough," murmured Bob, mopping his perspiring face.
"I'm glad we got out of drill this afternoon. But go on, Professor. I
didn't mean to interrupt you."

"Well, there isn't much to tell about the snake," said the scientist.
"I purchased Ticula, as I call her, some time ago from a museum. She
is a fine specimen of the regal python. Originally she came from
Borneo, where she was captured when very young. As I stated, she has
not yet attained her growth, and I have succeeded in making quite a
pet of her."

"Deliver me from such pets!" murmured Ned.

"Ticula is not a venomous snake," we