“I fear we have had our journey here for nothing.”
“Nonsense!” replied the professor. “Isn’t it something to get the bones of that mammoth, Frank?”
“Of little consequence to me in view of the more important work I have on hand,” the inventor replied. “By this time the bones must be picked clean.”
“Then suppose we go back and gather them up.”
“I have no objections.”
Just then Barney called down from the turret:
“Sail ho! Sail ho!”
“Where away?” cried Frank, running up-stairs.
“Beyant ter ther northaist. But it isn’t ther Red Eric.”
“How do you know?”