"See here, Hawkins!" I said. "What does this mean?"
"M-m-means that a big wind has caught us," replied the inventor with a
sickly smile.
"And when do you suppose it's going to let go of us?"
"Well--we--we may be able to catch one of those high roofs over
there," murmured Hawkins with assurance that did not reassure.
"You--you know we can't go up very far, Griggs. This thing was not
built for flying."
"For anything that wasn't made for the purpose, it's doing wonders," I
retorted. Then a sudden puff sent us up fully ten feet. "Heavens!
There goes our chance at those roofs!"
"Dear me! So it does!" muttered the inventor as we sailed gracefully
over the chimney-tops. "How unfortunate!"
"It'll be a lot more unfortunate when we pitch down into the street!"
I snarled.
"Now, Griggs," said Hawkins argumentatively as we sped down-town on the
steadily rising wind, "why do you always take this pessimistic view of
things? Can't you see--is it beyond your little mental scope to realize
that we have fairly fallen over a great discovery, something that men
have been seeking for ages? Don't you comprehend, from the very fact of
our being up here and still rising that these wings accidentally embody
the vital principles of the dirigible----"
"Oh, dry up!" I growled as we flitted swiftly past a church steeple.
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