In spite of the fact that Carl had shaken hands with Ping, he continued to have very little use for the Chinaman. And Ping, to judge from appearances, had no more use for the Dutchman. They did not speak. One sat down on one side of the machine and the other sat down on the other. Then a brown man, wearing an embroidered coat and a turban, drove up on a small cage wagon drawn by one horse. He got off the wagon and stepped up to Carl.
"How-do, sahib?" said the man.
Carl remembered him. He was the fellow who had been dozing on Rajah's back at the river. Also he was the man who had taken charge of the girl who had dropped off the trapeze when the burning aëroplane came down.
Carl had a startling thought—it flashed over him like an inspiration.
"How you vas?" answered the Dutch boy genially.
"You come 'long with Ben Ali," said the man.
"Nod on your dindype," replied Carl. "I vas vatching der machine for Modor Matt."
"You come!" hissed Ben Ali.
Then Carl noted something very remarkable. The Hindoo's eyes began to blaze, and dance, and show wonderful lights in their depths.
"Shtop mit it!" said Carl. "You peen a mesmerizer, und I don'd like dot."