"Booking office of the railway," said Dick, ten minutes later, seeing Carl descend and enter an office so labelled. "Had enough of the airship it seems, and will make the trip to the coast by train. But that's queer, ain't it?"
"What's queer? Why? How?" asked Alec in a breath.
"Don't be a donkey! Carl Reitberg's queer."
"Ill? He don't look it. Seems to be he's very much alive-o!"
Dick turned an indignant, not to say angry glance upon his companion.
"You are thick!" he said bluntly. "I wasn't referring to the health of our estimable friend. I was referring to his actions. They're queer, ain't they?"
"No—why? Why shouldn't he return by train and steamer if he wishes to do so?"
"Because at breakfast this morning he told us all how he was enjoying the trip. Pretended even to have been charmed with our little brush with those Pathans. Said nothing would induce him to part with the airship till she had landed him in England."
"My! Yes. Greasy beggar," reflected Alec. "What's it mean? Playing double. But perhaps he ain't booking. Look here, I'll hop in and listen to what's passing."