"It's no use, Fay," said Monkey. "Jack won't let us hoist it on the signal-pole. He says it might mislead some of the engineers, and work mischief."
"Hoist it on the signal-pole," whispered Ned to me. "Then it's a bird they're going to catch, after all, and not a fish. I see it now. Probably some wonderful kind of night-hawk."
"Well, then, what do you think is the next best place?" said Phaeton.
"I think Haven's barn, by all odds," Monkey answered promptly.
"Haven's barn it is, then," said Phaeton, and they shouldered the thing and walked off, we following.
Before we arrived at the barn, Holman, Charlie Garrison, and at least a dozen other boys had joined us, one by one.
The numerous ells and sheds attached to this barn enabled Monkey and Phaeton to mount easily to the ridgepole of the highest part, where they fastened the monster, and quickly lighted all her battle-lanterns, when she blazed out against the blackness of the night like some terrific portent.
"Now you stay here and keep her in order," said Monkey, "while I go for Adams."
Mr. Adams was an amateur astronomer of considerable local celebrity, whose little observatory, built by himself, was about fifty rods distant from Haven's barn. Unfortunately, his convivial habits were as famous as his scientific attainments, and Roe knew about where to find him. I went with him on the search.
We went first to the bar-room of the "Cataract House, by James Tone," but we did not find him there.