“We are sorry,” they said, “but we have our orders. Certain things we have been forbidden to tell you.”
“Who forbade you?” asked the Doctor.
But from then on not a single word would they answer. The Doctor made several attempts to get them talking again but without success. Finally we were compelled to give it up and return to camp—which we reached very late.
“I think,” said Polynesia, as the Doctor, Chee-Chee and I set about preparing the vegetarian supper, “that we sort of upset Society in the Moon this afternoon. Gracious, I never saw such a land in my life I—And I’ve seen a few. I suppose that by now every bumblebee and weed on the whole globe is talking about the Whispering Vines and the slip they made in mentioning the President. President! Shiver my timbers! You’d think he were St. Peter himself! What are they making such a mystery about, I’d like to know?”
“We’ll probably learn pretty soon now,” said the Doctor, cutting into a huge melon-like fruit. “I have a feeling that they won’t think it worthwhile to hold aloof from us much longer.—I hope not anyway.”
“Still more birds left the concealment of the creepers”
“Me too,” said Chee-Chee. “Frankly, this secrecy is beginning to get under my skin. I’d like to feel assured that we are going to be given a passage back to Puddleby. For a while, anyway, I’ve had enough of adventure.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry,” said the Doctor. “I still feel convinced that we’ll be taken care of. Whoever it was that got us up here did so with some good intention. When I have done what it is that’s wanted of me, arrangements will be made for putting us back on the Earth, never fear.”
“Humph!” grunted Polynesia, who was cracking nuts on a limb above our heads. “I hope you’re right. I’m none too sure, myself—No, none too sure.”