“Well, old chap,” said Pant, peering at the dog through his goggles. “You came to share fortunes with me, did you? The little yellow men had a tiger; I’ve got a dog. That’s better. A tiger’d leave you; a dog never. Besides, old top, you’ll tell me when there’s danger lurking ’round, won’t you? But tell me one thing now: did anyone see you come in here?”
The dog beat the damp floor with his tail.
“Well, if they did, it’s going to be mighty tough for you and me, that’s all I’ve got to say about it.”
Upon opening the door to the cabin of the balloon, after catching the gleam of the supposed domes of the City of Gold, Dave Tower found, to his great relief, that they had dropped to a considerably lower level than that reached by them many hours before. He was able to stand exposure to this outer air.
He began at once to search for cords which would allow gas to escape from the balloon.
“Should be a valve-cord and a rip-cord somewhere,” he muttered to himself, “but you can never tell what these Orientals are going to do about such things.”
As he gazed away toward the north, he was sure he caught sight of dark purple patches between the white.
“Might just be shadows and might be pools of salt water between the ice-floes. If we land on the ocean, good night!”
Hurriedly he searched the rigging for dangling cords. He found none. If there had been any, they had been thrown up and tangled above by the tossing of the balloon.