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One thought only mars their pleasure: to-morrow morning the Children of the Skies will sail away in their glorious sky-ship, probably never to return. At ten o'clock the company broke up, the ship company ascending, as before to their staterooms. Barton would not hear to anything else than that they should descend in the morning for the last time. How sad these earthly partings are.
But we cannot stop to enumerate all the conveniences and appurtenances of the wonderful sky-ship, now hastening toward its destination. More of that later on. Washington and its crowds of excited people were fast disappearing in the distance. To say that no fear was experienced upon the part of any of the company would not be strictly true.
"You get your sleepins, an' no one cares whether you get your eatin's or not. What's your name?" "Dougherty Mike Dougherty, Clark street, south of Van Buren!" "I guess you must be French," Jimmie grinned. "You've guessed it. Now, what's your name, and what are you boys doin' here with this old sky-ship?" "I'll tell you all about it when we get back to the hotel," Jimmie replied.
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