The Lost City [17]
son," earnestly spoke the professor. "And when the astounding truth shall have been published, broadcast, throughout all Christendom, what praises--"
"How thoroughly we shall be branded liars, and falsificationers from 'way up the crick'!" exploded the youngster, making a wry grimace and moving on to view the headless lion from a different standpoint.
"He means well, uncle Phaeton," assured Bruno, in lowered tones. "He would not knowingly hurt your feelings, sir, but--may I speak out?"
"Why not?" quickly. "Surely I am not one to stand in awe of, lad?"
"One to be loved and reverenced, rather," with poorly hidden emotion; then rallying, to add, "But when one finds it impossible to realise all that has happened this afternoon, when one feels afraid to even make an effort at such belief, how can the boy be blamed for feeling that all others would pronounce us mad or--wilful liars?"
Professor Phaeton saw the point, and made a wry grimace while roughing up his pompadour and brushing his closely trimmed beard with doubtful hand. After all, was the whole truth to be ever spoken?
"Well, well, we can determine more clearly after fully weighing the subject," he said, turning back towards the flying-machine. "And, after all, what has happened to us thus far may not seem so utterly incredible after our explorations are completed."
"Of this region, do you mean, sir?"
"Of the Olympic mountains, and all their mountainous chain may encompass,--yes," curtly spoke the man of hopes, stepping inside the aerostat to perfect his arrangements for the night.
Waldo took greater pleasure in viewing the mountain lion towards whose destruction he had so liberally contributed, but when he spoke of removing the skin, Bruno objected.
"Why take so much trouble for nothing, Waldo? Even if we could stow the pelts away on board, they would make a far from agreeable burden. And if what I fancy lies before us is to come true, the more lightly we are weighted, the more likely we are to come safely to--well, call it civilisation, just for a change."
"Then you believe that uncle Phaeton is really in earnest about exploring this region, Bruno?"
"He most assuredly is. Did you ever know him to speak idly, or to be otherwise than in earnest, Waldo?"
"Well, of course uncle is all right, but--sometimes--"
A friendly palm slipped over those lips, cutting short the speech which might perchance have left a sting behind. And yet the worthy professor had no more enthusiastic acolyte than this same reckless speaking youngster, when the truth was all told.
Leaving the animals where they had fallen, for the time being, the brothers passed over to where rested the aeromotor, finding the professor busily engaged in rigging up a series of fine wires, completely surrounding the flying-machine, save for one narrow, gate-like arrangement.
"Beginning to feel as though you could turn in for all night, eh, my boys?" came his cheery greeting.
"Well, somehow I do feel as though 'the sandman' had been making his rounds rather earlier than customary," dryly said Waldo, winking rapidly. "I believe there must have been a bit more wind astir to-day than common, although neither of you may have noticed the fact."
Professor Featherwit chuckled softly while at work, but neither he nor Bruno made reply in words. And then, his arrangements perfected save for closing the circuit, which could only be done after all hands had entered the air-ship, he spoke to the point:
"Come, boys. You've had a rough bit of experience this day, and there may be still further trouble in store, here in this unknown land. Better make sure of a full night's rest, and thus have a reserve fund to draw upon in case of need."
There was plenty of sound common sense in this adjuration, and, only taking time to procure a can of fresh water from yonder stream, the two youngsters stepped within that charmed circle, permitting their uncle to close the circuit, and then test the queer contrivance to make sure all was working nicely.
A confused sound broke
"How thoroughly we shall be branded liars, and falsificationers from 'way up the crick'!" exploded the youngster, making a wry grimace and moving on to view the headless lion from a different standpoint.
"He means well, uncle Phaeton," assured Bruno, in lowered tones. "He would not knowingly hurt your feelings, sir, but--may I speak out?"
"Why not?" quickly. "Surely I am not one to stand in awe of, lad?"
"One to be loved and reverenced, rather," with poorly hidden emotion; then rallying, to add, "But when one finds it impossible to realise all that has happened this afternoon, when one feels afraid to even make an effort at such belief, how can the boy be blamed for feeling that all others would pronounce us mad or--wilful liars?"
Professor Phaeton saw the point, and made a wry grimace while roughing up his pompadour and brushing his closely trimmed beard with doubtful hand. After all, was the whole truth to be ever spoken?
"Well, well, we can determine more clearly after fully weighing the subject," he said, turning back towards the flying-machine. "And, after all, what has happened to us thus far may not seem so utterly incredible after our explorations are completed."
"Of this region, do you mean, sir?"
"Of the Olympic mountains, and all their mountainous chain may encompass,--yes," curtly spoke the man of hopes, stepping inside the aerostat to perfect his arrangements for the night.
Waldo took greater pleasure in viewing the mountain lion towards whose destruction he had so liberally contributed, but when he spoke of removing the skin, Bruno objected.
"Why take so much trouble for nothing, Waldo? Even if we could stow the pelts away on board, they would make a far from agreeable burden. And if what I fancy lies before us is to come true, the more lightly we are weighted, the more likely we are to come safely to--well, call it civilisation, just for a change."
"Then you believe that uncle Phaeton is really in earnest about exploring this region, Bruno?"
"He most assuredly is. Did you ever know him to speak idly, or to be otherwise than in earnest, Waldo?"
"Well, of course uncle is all right, but--sometimes--"
A friendly palm slipped over those lips, cutting short the speech which might perchance have left a sting behind. And yet the worthy professor had no more enthusiastic acolyte than this same reckless speaking youngster, when the truth was all told.
Leaving the animals where they had fallen, for the time being, the brothers passed over to where rested the aeromotor, finding the professor busily engaged in rigging up a series of fine wires, completely surrounding the flying-machine, save for one narrow, gate-like arrangement.
"Beginning to feel as though you could turn in for all night, eh, my boys?" came his cheery greeting.
"Well, somehow I do feel as though 'the sandman' had been making his rounds rather earlier than customary," dryly said Waldo, winking rapidly. "I believe there must have been a bit more wind astir to-day than common, although neither of you may have noticed the fact."
Professor Featherwit chuckled softly while at work, but neither he nor Bruno made reply in words. And then, his arrangements perfected save for closing the circuit, which could only be done after all hands had entered the air-ship, he spoke to the point:
"Come, boys. You've had a rough bit of experience this day, and there may be still further trouble in store, here in this unknown land. Better make sure of a full night's rest, and thus have a reserve fund to draw upon in case of need."
There was plenty of sound common sense in this adjuration, and, only taking time to procure a can of fresh water from yonder stream, the two youngsters stepped within that charmed circle, permitting their uncle to close the circuit, and then test the queer contrivance to make sure all was working nicely.
A confused sound broke