"Well, be easy about the oak opening," came from Matt. "It's large enough to alight in and to start from. If there's only a little wind, there'll be no danger."
The Englishman reached over and took Matt's hand.
"Allow me," said he, with a solemn handshake. "Win or lose, my bucko, you have my admiration."
Matt flushed.
"Why," said he, "this is all talk, as yet, Twomley."
"It's the sort of talk, my lad, that precedes notable achievements. Nine-tenths of all the great work that's done owes more to the head than to the hands. What about the automobile?"
"That will be here at eight o'clock in the morning."
"You even thought of that! I suppose I'll have to be catching a car for town."
Twomley got up and flung away the remains of a cigarette.
"You'd better stay here," suggested Matt. "There's an extra cot behind the calliope, and I'm sure Burton will give you your breakfast in the morning."