Everybody looked at Pomp in surprise for a moment, and then laughed.
“I am afraid your plan is not the best kind of a one,” declared Frank. “It would be of little use to gain the surface and have no ship there to pick you up, or be out of sight of land. I am afraid you would come down for a permanent thing.”
Pomp looked somewhat aggrieved, at which Barney began to jolly him.
“Begorra, yez are a ganius, naygur!” he cried, hilariously. “Shure, yez take the cake. That’s a foine plan yez have!”
Pomp was angry.
“Shut up, yo’ no ’count I’ishman!” he cried, indignantly. “Yo’ amn’t got no plan fo’ to propose at all.”
“Bejabers, I’d rather not have thin to put out the loikes av that,” roared Barney. “It’s a foine brain yez have!”
Pomp made a dive for Barney, but the Celt dodged him.
There would have been a lively ruction between the two, however, but for Frank, who checked them.
“Hold on!” he cried. “None of that. We have too many serious matters on hand just now.”