While Frank held Barney, the Irishman put the noose around his body, and Pomp fastened the end of the line.
In a remarkably short space of time the Celt was left hanging there and Frank ascended to the deck.
As soon as he regained his breath, and recovered from his exhaustion, he and Pomp hauled Barney up.
It was some time afterward before they had entirely recovered from the effects of their violent exertion, and discussed all the details of the matter.
As no one was injured, and Barney needed a good rest, he finally turned in and fell asleep.
Frank then relieved his sable friend of the wheel.
“We will assume the first watch,” he suggested.
“To be sho’,” assented Pomp. “Am yo’ satisfied wif her, Massa Frank?”
“Yes; the machine is certainly the greatest invention I have ever turned out. And she’s the simplest kind of an air-ship to work. It is only necessary to elevate the angle of the propeller plane, drive her faster, and ascend to any height. To go down, the impinging edge of the forward plane is simply depressed, and she descends. To remain at a fixed altitude we have only to keep the rudder perfectly horizontal.”
“No gas bags to bust wif dis high flyer.”