Billy, after all, was the first to discover signs of dawn through the window which was secured with the heavy wire mesh. He immediately aroused the others and they proceeded to get the coffee on the stove.
Just when they would receive the signal was uncertain; so that it was considered the part of wisdom to be prepared in advance.
“I wonder where we’ll take the next meal,” Pudge remarked, as they sat there at the table and satisfied their appetites with what had been prepared.
Billy was about to make some sort of grim joke on the possibility of their not ever needing another “feed,” but on second thought he desisted. It was not a subject to be made fun of, he concluded, because the danger of an accident was always in evidence when far up among the clouds.
“We’ll make up a snack to take along with us,” said wise Frank. “It may come in handy, you know.”
“Pumpkins and partridges, but it does take you to think up things, Frank!” cried Pudge, beaming on his comrade, for that proposal was right in his line of weakness.
“There’s someone at the door, Frank!” announced Billy.
The day was coming on, as Frank could see when he partly opened the door. He discovered a stranger standing there, a swarthy looking, slender man, who was apparently a Frenchman, if appearances went for anything.
“Pardon, but have I the pleasure of addressing M’sieu Frank Chester?” he asked.
“That is my name,” replied the boy. “Have you come from Major Nixon?”