As soon as the ice boat gained its equilibrium in the air, however, she came to a pause and hung there.
The avalanche of snow poured over the cliff and fell with a dull roar down upon the ice below.
“God bless me sowl!” said Barney. “We’re floyin’!”
“Is this the end of us?” asked a trembling voice beside him.
It was the boy who spoke, and he gazed around shudderingly, for he thought they were going to drop to the earth.
He was the same boy whom Frank had made an effort to defend in Boston, and he wore the same natty cap and military school uniform beneath a rough coat much too big for him.
His wan, pale face bore the stamp of great suffering, too.
Barney shook his head and replied:
“We’re safe! Shure, this is a flyin’ machine.”
“Oh—I see!”