MacPherson reached into his pocket and silently produced a thirty-two calibre pistol, of another make than Chick's but using the same ammunition. From another pocket he drew out a package carefully bound with thread. He unrolled the contents. It was an old clay pipe!
“Oi came through,” he stated plaintively, “wit' two guns; an' nary a bit av powder for ayther!”
Chick smiled. He searched his own pockets. First he handed over his extra magazine full of cartridges, and then a full package of smoking tobacco.
“Wirra, wirra!” shouted MacPherson. “Faith, an' there's powder for both!” His hands shook as he hurried to cram the old pipe full of tobacco. The cartridges could wait. He struck a light and gave a deep sigh of content as he began to puff.
XLIII. — THE HOME OF THE JARADOS
Chick had been grievously hurt in the contest with the Senestro, but thanks to the Rhamdas he came round rapidly. It was a matter of less than a week.
Things were coming to a climax; Chick needed no lynx's eye to see that the die had been cast between the Bars and the Rhamdas. Soon the Senestro must make a bold move, or else release the professor.
Chick had not long to wait. It came one evening. Once again he found himself in the June Bug, accompanied by the Geos, the Jan Lucar, and—the little Aradna herself. Their departure was swift and secret.