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Updated: May 21, 2025
Professor Featherwit frowned, and shook his head in silent reproof. More nearly, perhaps, than either of the boys, he realised what an awful peril this stranger had so narrowly escaped. It was far too early to turn that escape into jest, even for one naturally light of heart. He leaned over the hand-rail, peering downward.
True to the firm hand which set its machinery in motion, the flying-machine maintained that gentle curve until it swung around well to the rear of the cloud, where again Professor Featherwit broke out in ecstatic praises of their marvellous good fortune.
"I promise to save him if yet alive, and let me try, professor; I beg of you, give me this chance to show my heartfelt gratitude." But Professor Featherwit shook his head in negation. "That would only add to our trouble, friend. Knowing nothing of the dialect, you would be wholly at a loss. And, looking so entirely different in every respect, how could you hope to pass inspection?"
Professor Featherwit had resolved to fetch Cooper Edgecombe to the scene of interest, in order to give him at least a fair chance to solve the enigma which was perplexing them all.
Bruno laughed outright at this characteristic anticlimax, while Professor Featherwit was obliged to smile, even while compelled to correct. "Tornado, please, nephew; not cyclone." "Well, uncle Phaeton, have it your own way. Under either name, I fancy the thing-a-ma-jig would kick up a high old bobbery with a man's political economy should it chance to go bu'st right there!
The consultation was broken off at this juncture by a faint summons from Cooper Edgecombe, and Professor Featherwit was only too glad of the excuse, hurrying over to the flying-machine, finding to his great joy that the exile was now far more like his old-time self. Still, great caution was used in revealing all, and it was not until considerably later in the day that Mr.
Professor Featherwit was no less absorbed in this wondrous spectacle, but his was the interest of a scientist, and his pulse beat as ordinary, his brain remaining as clear and calm as ever. "I hardly believe we have anything to fear from this tornado, my lads," he said, taking note of their uneasiness.
That experiment proved to be a complete success, and after Cooper Edgecombe added his pathetic pleadings to the young man's own arguments, Professor Featherwit gradually gave way, though still with reluctance. "I could never find forgiveness should harm come to your mother's son, boy," he huskily murmured, his arm stealing about Bruno's middle.
Take me, don't leave me, for love of God and humanity, don't leave me to this living death!" Professor Featherwit called back a hasty assurance, and brought the air-ship to a landing with greater haste than was exactly prudent, all things considered; but who could keep cool blood and unmoved heart, with yonder piteous object before their eyes?
As might have been expected, Professor Featherwit was deeply stirred by all this, fidgeting nervously while keeping alert ears, with difficulty smothering the ejaculations which fought for exit through his lips.
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