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Updated: May 7, 2025
They had done what they could to protect the interests of their patrons and themselves by keeping their mission a strict secret. So far as Ned knew, the only persons who had knowledge of what they were doing and where they were going were his mother and sister, Alan's family, and Major Honeywell and Senor Oje.
The details of how Ned and Alan, just one day late, kept their engagement with major Honeywell and Senor' Oje in the Coates House, and of the almost unbelievable report they made and the rich evidence of its genuineness that they submitted do not really belong in an account of the flight of the Cibola. Two things were done at once, however.
They were loading from the far side opposite the hydrogen cask and as Ned passed the corner of the car he almost ran into the station agent. The agent, who was also the telegraph operator, had a telegram for Ned, which the boy took eagerly. Ned had sent a message to Major Honeywell, telling of their safe arrival, and did not doubt that this was some important afterthought of the Major's.
"Five years ago William Honeywell Robinson became addicted to a patent headache 'dope. It ended, as such habits do, in insanity. He was confined two years, suffering from psychasthenia, with suicidal melancholia and delusion of persecution. Then he was released, cured, but with a supersensitive mental balance."
"Bombus," said he, cheerfully, "B. Bombus, Esq., of Clovertop Manse, Honeywell." "But you 're not a minister, are you?" inquired Betty. "No; why?" returned the gentleman, quickly. "Because you said 'Manse. A manse is a minister's house, is n't it?" asked Betty. "No, not always," Bombus replied. "But I call my place Clovertop Manse because it belongs to me and not to my wife, do you see?
"That's what the clerk down stairs asked me few moments ago if I were the Ned Napier. Well, I never heard of any other Ned Napier. But boys don't carry credentials, you know, Major Honeywell. I'll take your word for it that you are Major Baldwin Honeywell, formerly of the United States Army, and now of the what do you call it ethno ?" "Ethnological survey," laughed the Major.
"Then we will meet you at the Coates House in Kansas City on the first day of August." Senor Oje arose and lit a fresh black cigar. "It will be well for you and Major Honeywell to talk over these things while I see my Chicago banker," said he. And with a good- natured "Adios, Senores," he left the apartment. "Now, about this liquid hydrogen?" began Major Honeywell at once.
Honeywell!" he said, delightedly, and Mary saw her mother give him a cordial greeting before she said: "And now, George, I want you to know my little girl, Ma'y, Miss Bannister. Ma'y, this is my Southe'n boy I was telling you about!" Mary, turning unsmiling eyes, was quite sure the man would be nearer forty than thirty, as indeed he was, grizzled and rather solid into the bargain.
And I am to have a similar portion for furnishing the capital. And that brings us to the real starting point," the Mexican capitalist continued. "What is it to cost?" "Ten thousand dollars at least," answered Ned instantly. "Phew!" exclaimed Major Honeywell. Senor Oje, not unused to speculative investments, gave no sign of surprise. "How shall it be arranged?" was his only comment.
Then came the careful transfer of the liquid hydrogen. One at a time the cast iron eases were carried from the building, hoisted aboard the car and lashed in place. Before supper Ned had time to go to the depot and send a telegram to Major Honeywell, who was yet in Chicago. It read: "Ready for inflation. All O. K. Sail at 2 P. M. to-morrow, August 11."
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