"Then, suddenly, it was gone—out into the open sky—bang into the sunrise. And I saw the dawn all over everything. I dressed—rushed out—and—"
"Had it laid an egg?" Tim asked, remembering another kind of hunting somewhere, long ago.
"How could it?" Judy corrected him quickly. "There was—no time—" then stopped abruptly. She turned towards Come-Back Stumper; she gave him a hurried and affectionate hug. "And then," she asked, "what happened next?"
Stumper returned the hug, including Tim in it too. "I found this—fluttering in my hand," he said, and held up a small grey feather for them to admire. "It's the only clue I've got. The pigeon left it."
While they admired the feather and exhibited their own, Tim crying, "We've got five now, nearly a whole wing!" Stumper was heard to murmur above their heads, "And since I—came out to look—I've felt—quite different."
"Your secret's in the wind and open sky!" cried Judy, dancing round him with excitement. Her voice came flying from the air.
"You're awfully warm—you're hot—you're burning!" shouted Tim, clapping his hands. His voice seemed to rise out of the earth.
"We've all seen it, all had a glimpse," roared Uncle Felix with a sound of falling water, rolling up nearer as he spoke. "It's too wonderful to see for long, too wonderful to remember quite. But we shall find it in the end. We're all looking!" He began a sort of dancing step. "And when we find it—" he went on.
"We'll change the world," shouted Stumper, as though he uttered a final word of command.
"It's a he, remember," interrupted Tim. "Come along!"