“Where is Pomp?” asked Frank.
The Celt gave a queer little whistle. Almost instantly a comical little darky appeared beside him.
“Here I is, sah!” he said, with a scrape and a grin.
“Well, you jolly rascals,” said Frank, with a laugh. “I have some good news for you.”
“Golly, Marse Frank, wha’ am it?”
“Bejabers, it’s glad we are to hear that, sor!”
“Well,” said Frank, quickly, “I want you to have the Spectre ready for a quick departure. We are bound for a cruise to South America.”
Barney threw a handspring, and Pomp cut a pigeon-wing.
“Hi, hi!” cried the darky; “dat am jes’ too good news fo’ anyfing!”
“Be me sowl, I’m deloighted!”