[CHAPTER XXVI.]
DIAMONDS VS. FREEDOM.
“If you could show us a picture of how to get out of here, I’d a heap rather see it,” snorted the captain indignantly. “What good does that critter with the merry-go-round name do us, when we’re penned up in here? Can you tell me that?”
But the professor was deaf to the New Englander’s scornful remarks. With a sheet of paper and a pencil he was busy taking a rubbing of the scrawled picture on the wall.
“Idt gorresponds in efery impordandt detail midt der pictures in der files of der society in Ber-r-r-lin,” he declared.
“Yes, and a fat chance your drawing has of ever sharing a bunk with it, if we don’t sight a change in the weather pretty soon,” growled the old sailor.
But the professor was deaf to these remarks. He worked painstakingly till he had reduced to paper a complete rubbing of the wall picture. Then he drew out a sketch book and made a carefully detailed drawing of it. As he worked, he actually hummed an odd little tune to himself. For the time being, in the glory of his discovery, he had completely forgotten in what grave danger he, and all of them, stood.
It was about mid-afternoon that the lattice-work at the top of the chamber was removed and some food, in stone jars, was lowered to them. With it came a jar of water and some coarse kind of bread made out of corn. The stuff in the jars proved to be some sort of stew, with peppers and other vegetables in it. It was not at all bad and they made a hearty meal, using a small cup in turns by way of a spoon.
They felt somewhat better after the meal, such as it was, and while the professor continued his scrutiny of the walls, the others discussed their situation in all its bearings. The captain gazed longingly up toward the lattice which had been replaced after the food had been lowered.
“If only we had some way of climbing up there,” he said, “we’d at least have a fighting chance. That is, pervidin’ these varmints ain’t bust up the flying ship by this time.”