For the better part of an hour comparative silence reigned, the boys feasting eyes upon yonder spectacle, their uncle deeply in reverie; but then he roused up, his final decision arrived at.
“I will do it!” were his first words. “Yes, I will do it!”
“Do what, uncle Phaeton?” asked Waldo, with poorly suppressed eagerness, as he turned towards his relative.
“Go after Cooper Edgecombe,—bringing him here in order that he may, sooner or later, solve this perplexing enigma. Come, boys, we may as well start back towards the aerostat.”
But both youngsters objected in a decided manner, Waldo saying:
“No, no, uncle Phaeton! Why should we go along? You'll be coming right back, and will be less crowded in the ship if we don't go.”
“And we can better wait right here; don't you see, uncle?”
“To keep the Lost City safely found, don't you know? What if it should take a sudden notion to lose itself again?” added Waldo, innocently.