“Ha-ha-ha,” Bob repeated mechanically.
“Ha-ha-ha—” Jim kept it up and it came from his very boots.
“Say, am I so funny?” demanded Bob. He was becoming convinced that Jim’s mind was badly affected by the strain of the past twenty-four hours, and he didn’t wonder. “Come on, Pal, snap out of it—that won’t do you any good—not a bit. Why, you are acting worse than if some one was tickling the soles of your feet—”
“I’m tickled all over,” Jim gasped merrily.
“At what—be yourself or tell me what has set you off—I don’t see anything to laugh at—”
“No?”
“Not a thing. This is a serious business, Old Man, we’ve got to keep our heads to get out of it.”
“Ha-ha haaahahhhaaa,” shouted Jim, then he made a slight gesture which seemed to include the entire world. “Ha-ha—”
“Ha—” Bob started to mimic him, then his eyes swept swiftly over the place. He turned himself about to look more closely, then, he too opened his mouth and roared with genuine amusement. “Ha-ha-ha-ha.” It was a soul-satisfying bellow which shook him from head to foot for several minutes, then he pulled himself together. “We don’t want to make any mistake.” With that he ran to the nearest green pile and began to pull on it. After a moment Austin joined him, and although they continued to chuckle as they worked, they had control of themselves.
“Behold the Helicopter,” Jim cried as the plane began to stand out from the covering of foliage the bandits had put on it.