than you would readily credit, my lads; or, in fact, than I would
be wholly willing to confess. And it was with an eye single to
this very adventure that I laboured to devise and perfect yonder
machine."

"A marvel in itself, uncle Phaeton. Only for that, where would
we have been, yesterday?" seriously spoke the elder Gillespie.

"I know where we wouldn't have been: inside that blessed
cy-nado!"

"Nor here, where you can catch brook trout in your clothes
without the trouble of taking them off, youngster."

"And where you'll catch a precious hiding, without you let up
harping on that old string; it's way out of tune already, old
man,"

"Tit for tat. Excuse us, please, uncle Phaeton. We're like
colts in fresh pasture, this morning," brightly apologised Bruno,
for both.

Apparently the professor paid no attention to that bit of
sparring between his nephews, staring into the glowing camp-fire
with eyes which surely saw more than yellow coals or ruddy flames
could picture; eyes which burned and sparkled with all the fires
of distant youth.

"The dearest dream of all my life!" he repeated, in half dreamy
tones, only to rouse himself, with a a start and shoulder shake,