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Updated: May 21, 2025
Still the aerial demon bored its almost sluggish course straight towards the northwest, in this, as in all else, seemingly bent on proving itself the exception to all exceptions as Professor Featherwit declared.
The call was still hot upon his lips when his two companions entered the aerostat, gripping tight the hand-rail as Professor Featherwit sent the vessel afloat with reckless haste. As by a miracle they escaped disaster through rushing into a bushy treetop, and that fact served to steady the aeronaut's nerves.
Phaeton Featherwit just then felt himself little less than a cold-blooded assassin. Mr. Edgecombe was but little less deeply stirred, although his feelings were more of a mixture.
Mechanically his companions in peril obeyed, catching breath sharply, as they saw a clear sky and yellow sunshine far above, so awfully far they were, that it seemed like looking upward from the bottom of an enormously deep well. And then the marvellous truth flashed upon the brain of Phaeton Featherwit, almost robbing him of all power of speech.
Professor Featherwit was first to glimpse a pair of greenish eyes in silent motion, and, giving a low hiss of warning to his nephews, that same sound serving to check further progress on the part of the wild beast, his short rifle came to a level, then emitted a peculiar sound.
Thus it came to pass that the terra incognita was abandoned for the time being, Professor Featherwit striking that wide path of ruin which marked the course of the tornado, then sailing leisurely towards the point of their initial departure, improving the opportunity by giving a neat little lecture concerning tornadoes in general, and that one in particular.
Yet the gaze of Phaeton Featherwit as a rule kept turned towards that particular point, his eyes on fire, his lips twitching, his whole demeanour that of one who feels a discovery of tremendous importance lies just before him. "Are we going to land, uncle Phaeton?" queried Bruno, taking note of that preoccupation, which might easily prove dangerous under existing circumstances.
"Coax him to tell how he knocked the redskin out, uncle Phaeton." Little need of recalling that perplexing incident to the worthy savant, for, try as he might, Featherwit could not keep from brooding over that wondrous collection of relics pertaining to a long-since extinct people. Of course, the last one had perished ages ago; and yet and yet
No doubt this was meant for a feeble attempt at joking, but Professor Featherwit took it for earnest, and made quick reply: "That is precisely the case, my dear lad, and I am greatly joyed to find that you are not so badly frightened but that you can assist me in taking notes of this wondrous happening. To think that we are the ones selected for " "I say, uncle Phaeton." "Well, my lad?"
"Well, somehow I do feel as though 'the sandman' had been making his rounds rather earlier than customary," dryly said Waldo, winking rapidly. "I believe there must have been a bit more wind astir to-day than common, although neither of you may have noticed the fact." Professor Featherwit chuckled softly while at work, but neither he nor Bruno made reply in words.
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