“Knock him down with one of his own cocoa-nuts, or your fist. You’re big enough, Chumbley.”
“All right, I’ll try,” was the reply; “but that isn’t the difficulty.”
“No, of course not. You mean how are we to get away from here?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I have a plan at last.”
“A good one?” said Chumbley, spitting through the window again.
“No, for all my good plans that I have invented turn out to have a bad flaw in them. This is the poorest of the lot, but it seems the most likely.”
“Well, let’s have it,” said Chumbley coolly; “not that I feel in any hurry to get back to duty, for I am very comfortable here.”
“Hang it all, Chum, I believe you would settle down as soon as not.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I would. But how about this plan?”