"What! You're not thinking of taking him with us?" cried Bob.
"Not at all," responded Stoodles, "but I do want to take with me something he has got."
"And what's that, Pat?" asked Bob.
"His phonnygraph."
"Aha, I see," cried Bob, grinning. "The time you visited your subjects before you worked on their superstitious fears by rubbing phosphorus on your face. This time----"
"I'm reckoning on giving them a spaach, lad. Lave that end to me. What I want you to do is to make another of those paper balloons you sent up into the air the Fourth of July out at sea."
"Sure," said Bob; "a dozen, if you like."
"No, make two, for one might get disabled. Have you any of the fireworks left?"
"No, but I can make almost any kind of a sizzer with powder and fuses the purser will let me have."
"All right," approved Stoodles. "I may want to send up a balloon at the proper moment. If I do, I want it to send out lots of sparks when it gets aloft."