“It must be a surprise to Jerry Dooley,” said the captain.
“Bejabers, I hope the naygur will be afther seeing us,” cried Barney. “It’s a foine pickle we’ll be in if he don’t.”
“Oh, I think he will,” said Frank. “Suppose we try a signal!”
The young inventor drew from his pocket a small battery and a steel tube with a pneumatic chamber. He held this tube up a moment and pressed a button.
There was a sharp ping, a recoil, and up into the air shot a small ball of fire. Up it went, and exploding, fell in a shower of sparks.
“My electric rocket,” said Frank, explanatively. “I don’t see how Pomp can fail to see that.”
“Divil a bit!” cried Barney, with exultation. “See, shure he’s got his eye on us already.”
The air-ship came about and bore down rapidly to the spot where the trio stood. Pomp was seen at the pilot-house window.
Down it sank as the darky saw them, and stopped not fifty feet from the ground. Then the darky ran out and threw over the gang ladder.
“Huh! I’se drefful glad to fin’ yo’!” he cried with delight in his voice.