“Pilots avoid them usually for they are apt to gum the works of the plane—”
“We were on the ground when it flew over so they did not force us down. It was a great sight, but sort of sad. I didn’t know what it was at first, then I remembered reading that they do that every year;—it was thick as a cloud and when they got above us we couldn’t see the sky.”
“Marvelous sight, marvelous. Now you can slip into pajamas and soft slippers. Expect you’d like something to eat,” the doctor smiled at them. “Naturally I’m keen to know what happened to you, but—”
“I say Doc, if we tell what happened to us no one will believe half of it, but I reckon I’d like to tell it to our friends from Canada and Captain Seaman, even if it does sound like—”
“Like a pack of fairy tales,” added Bob.
“I say,” there was a knock at the door and the voice was Ruhel’s.
“Come on in, we were talking about you,” Jim called, and the Canadian Mounty entered without further ceremony. “You’re looking fit. If I had a horseshoe I’d pin it on you.”
“Don’t those boys want something to eat?” That was the Captain’s wife, who was positive that her guests were famished.
“Expect they do,” the doctor laughed, “although I cannot see that they have suffered especially from hunger.”
“We didn’t,” Bob answered, but he did not say anything about the pellets they had eaten. Presently the Flying Buddies were seated in comfortable chairs before a dainty, but bountiful repast to which they did full justice. Captain Seaman, Ruhel, Bradshaw and the doctor were in the huge cool living room where the table was set, and although they were all agog to get the story of what had happened to the boys, they kept a discreet silence while the meal was in progress.