“An ax!” I repeated. “Get an ax and chop out the roof of this beastly thing so that we can climb out, and——”
Hawkins clapped a hand over my mouth, and his scowl was sinister.
“Haven't you a grain of sense left?” he hissed.
“Yes, of course, I have. That's why I want an ax to——”
“Tell that crazy engineer I want more steam!” bawled Hawkins, drowning my voice.
“More steam?” said the person above. “More steam an' an ax, is it?”
“No—no ax. Tell him I want more steam, and I want it quick! He's got so little pressure that we're stuck!”
We heard the echo of departing footsteps.
“Now, you'd have made a nice muddle, wouldn't you?” snarled the inventor. “We'd have made a nice sight clambering out through a hole in the top of this car!”
“There are times,” I said, “when appearance don't count for much.”