“Yes, this is me, as you can see.”
“How are we goin’ ter see you when it’s so confounded dark?” growled Daniels.
“Well, what do you wish? To bathe or fish?” inquired Plumbo, ignoring this remark. Then he continued:
“You’d better skip. You’ll not board this ship.”
“That’s just what we came here to do,” replied Daniels, in an unruffled tone; “your mother is very ill and we come down to take charge of the air ship while you go home as quick as possible.”
Now poor Plumbo’s love for his widowed mother was a matter of common talk in the village, and the cunning of the elder Daniels had suggested this scheme to him as they came along. It worked even better than he had dared to expect. The rhyming watchman gave a gasp of pained astonishment.
“I must go home; though I ought not to roam,” he said.
“Make your mind easy about that, lad,” Daniels assured him; “we’ll watch this cloud clipper while you’re gone. Dr. Perkins told us to stay here while you are gone.”
“I’ll go home in a hurry; be back in a scurry,” declared Plumbo, who was completely taken in. His none too acute brain had been easily imposed upon by Daniels’ rascally trick. He scrambled up on the wharf and at once set off on a run for his home, crying as he went:
“Watch every crack till I can get back.”