"Because I thought it might be useful," he answered.
"And for what, pray?"
"Why, to build the air ship in, to be sure. Did you think I wanted it for a billiard room?"
"And how can you build the air ship without Wetherbee & Hart?" I inquired.
"I am not quite prepared to answer your question. But I have overcome difficulties before, and I shall overcome this one. Don't fret, Gurt! the air ship will be built."
His manner was confident, and showed such indifference to the gravity of our situation, that I looked at him in amazement. There was nothing more to say, and we wandered apart again.
Once more I began an exhaustive study of my surroundings—the river—the lights—the boat itself, and finally of my fellow-passengers. Thus occupied I allowed several landings to pass unheeded, when suddenly I became interested in a low but animated conversation between two men who were opposite me, the one standing, the other sitting. It was nearly dark in that part of the deck where we were, but presently the man who was sitting, shifted his position slightly to make room for the other, when they both came in range of a dimly burning lantern, and I was surprised to see that one of the men was my brother. The stranger was a rough, dirty looking sailor, and the pair, as I say, were deeply absorbed in conversation, in which they had evidently been engaged for some time.
"Yes, stranger," said the sailor, "you may believe me or not as you please, but I have proof enough of what I tell you; and three times I've been locked up with lunatics for stickin' to the truth, and not lyin'."
"And you say you can prove this?" inquired my brother in a low tone.
"Ay, and will do it!"