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"Lieutenant O'Keefe of the Royal Flying Corps," replied Larry, saluting. "And this gentleman is Dr. Walter T. Goodwin." Marakinoff's face brightened. "The American botanist?" he queried. I nodded. "Ah," cried Marakinoff eagerly, "but this is fortunate. Long I have desired to meet you. Your work, for an American, is most excellent; surprising.
He quivered with suppressed mirth at my paralysis of surprise. "Taught 'em that for Marakinoff's benefit!" he gasped. "Wait till that Red hears it. He'll blow up. "Just wait until you hear Yolara lisp a pretty little thing I taught her," said Larry as we set back for what we now called home. There was an impish twinkle in his eyes. And I did hear.
Marakinoff's earnestness became intense; O'Keefe interrupted appeared to question. Marakinoff glanced at me and as his gaze shifted from O'Keefe, I saw a flame of rage and horror blaze up in the latter's eyes. At last the Irishman appeared to consider gravely; nodded as though he had arrived at some decision, and Marakinoff thrust his hand to him.
It came to me that the light that illumined the tunnel was given out by tiny points deep within the stone, sprang from the points ripplingly and spread upon their polished faces. There was a cry from Larry far ahead. "Olaf!" I gripped Marakinoff's arm closer and we sped on. Now we were coming fast to the end of the passage.
Nevertheless, with three to one against him, if he can get away with it he deserves to. I'm for taking him up, if you are." There was almost a twinkle in Marakinoff's eyes. "It is not just as I would have put it, perhaps," he said, "but in its skeleton he has right. Nor will I turn my hand against you while we are still in danger here. I pledge you my honor on this." Larry laughed.
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