“Dat’s good news,” remarked the happy Bunk, catching the contagion; “yo’ll find me ready as soon as yo’ am.”
“Have you seen anybody while I was away?”
“Nobody hain’t been near here, but I can look down ober de lake and see folks afishing and de tent ober on t’other side.”
“If any of them should wander up this way, don’t let them see you. You will remember?”
“Yas, sir.”
“I must be off, for every minute now counts.”
“Yas, sir.”
The Professor resumed his seat, set the uplifter spinning, slowly rose in the air until at the right elevation, when he darted southward like a swallow on the wing. Left to himself, Bunk began preparing for the tedious hours before him. He was eager to fit up a sleeping couch in the oak from which he had fallen the night before. He would have carried out his plan but for one drawback: he had no boards to serve him.
A bright idea struck him.
“I’ll make a hammock; all I hab to do am to nail de corners on to de limbs and sleep jest like I do in my trundle bed at home.”