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Updated: June 7, 2025
"You must take no offense if I am a little surprised," exclaimed Major Honeywell; "I had supposed you would be older. Perhaps your surprise came first on receiving my note?" "It did," replied Ned; "I was surprised and so was my mother. But she thought I ought to come, although we could not imagine what you wanted."
Honeywell, cheerfully, after a pause. "There'll come a time when you'll simply hate him " "Oh, Mamma!" Mary said, with distaste. "Yes, there will," her mother went on placidly, "and then you just say to yourself that the best of 'em's only a big boy, and treat him as you'd treat a boy!" "All right, darling!" Mary laughed, kissing her.
He read the brief document, placed it before the blind man, and set a pin between his finger and thumb. "Sign there," he said. Honeywell smiled as he pricked in his name. "For identification, I suppose," he said. "Am I to assign no cause to the newspapers for my sudden action?" A twinkle of malice appeared in Average Jones' eye. "I would suggest waning mental acumen," he said.
Can our blind friend, J. Alden Honeywell, have taken to the public prints?" "Hardly, I think. This is from the Classical Weekly, a Baltimore publication of small and select patronage." "Hm. Looks ra-a-a-ather alluring," commented Average Jones with a prolonged drawl. "Better than the Rosicrucian fakery, anyhow." He bent over the clipping, studying these words.
"My chum, Alan Hope, who will make the ascension with me, will be one, and a colored boy, Elmer Grissom, who has helped me prepare for all my flights, will be the other." There was no dissent. "When shall I make my report?" Ned added. Major Honeywell and his friend conferred a moment. "Will five weeks be enough time for your exploration?" "I think so; perhaps less."
And one after another, as the blower gave the boys air and helped sweep away the clouds of dust, the remains which had lain buried for over three centuries were uncovered and brought above ground. Of the pottery itself, vases, jars, and religious ceremonial utensils, perfect in shape and displaying ornamentation that would have delighted Major Honeywell, the excavators could take little note.
"Major Honeywell," he said suddenly, "I don't know of a balloon that can be made to fly for a week. But if it is necessary to have one to do what you wish I'll make it and I'll find Vasquez's Turquoise Temple." "I knew you'd do it," exclaimed Major Honeywell, beaming. "Now we'll have my friend Senor Oje up and get right at the details." "One moment, Major Honeywell.
Mary said in distress, "not Richard Carter of the Carter Construction Company? Oh, Mamma, you know how George hates that whole crowd! You didn't borrow money of him!" "Not that he'd ever speak of it he'd die first!" Mrs. Honeywell said hastily. "I'll have to ask George for it," Mary said after a long pause, "and he'll be furious."
Ned had scribbled this note on a page from his note book: "Major Baldwin Honeywell, Annex, Chicago. By courtesy of Balloon Arrow. Bourke, escort, killed by Indians. Search begins at once. Camp established on plateau, second range Tunit Chas Mountains, thirty miles due east Wilson's Peak. Greetings. Written 5,600 feet above San Juan River, New Mexico. Ned Napier and Alan Hope."
"I never heard of any other one of that name," answered the boy. "But I think we are losing time. Please say I'm here." A moment later a page announced that Major Honeywell, in suite 8 A, desired Mr. Napier to be shown up at once. Reaching the apartment the page knocked and there was a quick "Come in."
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