“Well now, what about that?” Curlie whispered to himself.
A hasty survey of his prison revealed a chair and a rough bed made of poles on which there rested some filthy blankets. The place was lighted by two windows, not more than ten inches square. The walls were of heavy logs.
“I wonder who they are and who they think I am,” he asked himself.
He sat down to think and as he did so his arm brushed his belt. At that moment an inspiration came to him.
“Worth trying anyway,” he whispered as he rose hastily. “Have to be quick about it though. Lucky that window’s at the back of the cabin.”
CHAPTER XX
“WE HAVE MET WITH DISASTER”
Curlie’s fingers, working rapidly yet with trained precision, drew various articles from his belt. A coil of fine wire, two long spools made of some black substance, a pocket spirit lamp, a miniature metal retort, three small balloons made of a specially prepared elastic fiber; all these and many more things appeared as if by magic, and were spread out upon a blanket on the cot.
After unwinding and winding again some yards of fine copper wire, he snapped open the metal-cased spirit lamp and a tiny flame appeared. Attaching a balloon to the retort he applied the flame to the body of the retort. At once the balloon began to expand. Chemicals already in the retort were assuming a gaseous form.
Just here he found himself facing a difficulty; the balloons were going to expand to a size beyond that of the windows. With lightning-like decision he climbed upon a chair and thrust balloon, retort, spirit lamp and all out of the window. There he held them all at arm’s length.
“Might be seen, but I can’t help it,” he muttered.