“By the way, that reminds me of something,” I interrupted and, getting off my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; “I rather think I should have given Antaeus his supper before now.”
In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw in more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of my forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued to diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the indicator upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery as the power behind it became less and less.
“We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate,” remarked my companion. “The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so to speak.”
“In very great danger,” I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.
“Nor is that the worst of it,” I added, filled with a sudden apprehension.
“What do you mean?” she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.
“You had better descend to terra firma unless you want to go back down hill faster than you came up,” I replied significantly.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.
“Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal faster than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?”
“Can't you put on the brakes?”