As may be imagined, Phil Evans did not hesitate to at once set free
his rival. A few cuts with the bowie settled the knots which bound
him foot and hand.

Immediately Uncle Prudent rose to his knees and snatched away his
bandage and gag.

"Thanks," said he, in stifled voice.

"Phil Evans?"

"Uncle Prudent?"

"Here we are no longer the president and secretary of the Weldon
Institute. We are adversaries no more."

"You are right," answered Evans. "We are now only two men agreed to
avenge ourselves on a third whose attempt deserves severe reprisals.
And this third is --"

"Robur!"

"It is Robur!"

On this point both were absolutely in accord. On this subject there
was no fear of dispute.

"And your servant?" said Phil Evans, pointing to Frycollin, who was
puffing like a grampus. "We must set him free."