"If I'm not mistaken," I assured him, "he's entering now by the portcullis gate."
And I was right. Hatless, jacketless, soaked to the belt with perspiration but grinning triumphantly, entered Mr. Biggs. He mopped his forehead and said amiably, "'Lo, folks! Hot, isn't it?"
Diane ran to his side fearfully. She cried, "Lancelot, you must do something! Daddy says this heat means we—we're going to plunge into the Sun! You mustn't let—"
Biggs smiled serenely.
"Now, honey, don't get excited. We're in no danger. This isn't solar radiation. I caused this heat."
Well, that didn't surprise me. I had guessed it all along. But Diane and her papa stared at him wildly. "What?" croaked the skipper. "You done this, son? But—but why?"
"Why, simply because—" began Biggs. But he didn't finish his explanation. For there came a savage interruption from the doorway. And in an angry, spiteful voice:
"Continue, Mr. Biggs!" snarled Major Gilchrist. "Do continue, please! I am most eager to learn why you performed this abominable act of sabotage!"
I said, "Oh-oh!" and looked for a hole I could crawl into and drag in after me. Mr. Biggs' grin faded. "H-hello, Major!" he faltered weakly.