"The last time that happened, Tom, was just before you
started to dig the big tunnel--No, I'm wrong. It was just
before you started for the Land of Wonders, as we decided it
ought to be called. You were talking to yourself then, when
I walked in on you, and--Say, Tom!" suddenly exclaimed Mr.
Damon eagerly, "don't tell me you're going off on another
wild journey like that--don't!"
"Why?" asked Tom, smiling at the energy of his caller.
"Because if you are, I'll want to go with you, of course,
and if I go it means I'll have to start in as soon as I can
to bring my wife around to my way of thinking. The last
time I went it took me two weeks to get her to consent, and
then she didn't like it. So if--"
"No, Mr. Damon," interrupted Tom, "I don't count on going
on any sort of a trip--that is, any long one. I was just
getting ready to take a little spin in the Hawk, and if
you'd like to come along--"
"You mean that saucy little airship of yours, Tom, that's
always trying to sit down on her tail, or tickle herself
with one wing?"
"That's the Hawk!" laughed Tom; "though that tickling
business you speak of is when I spiral.
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