Chapter 5 CHAPTER V THE PRESIDENT AND SECRETARY OF THE WELTON SOCIETY AGREE TO RECOVER

Uncle Prudden, Phil Evans, and the footman Fricoland were blindfolded, their mouths were gagged, and ropes were tied around their wrists and feet. They were unable to see, speak, or move. move.This is not done to make them better accept their situation.Besides, who was the mastermind of this kidnapping, and where they were thrown like postal parcels in a luggage cart, they had no idea.Where are you now and what is your destiny waiting for you? I am afraid that even the most patient lamb will not be able to bear the anger.We all know that members of the Weldon Society are just not patient lambs.With a man as violent as Uncle Prudden, it is not difficult to imagine what he looked like at that time.

In any case, he and Phil Evans should have imagined that it would be difficult for them to go to the Society's office the next night. As for Fricoland, his eyes were blindfolded, his mouth was gagged, and he was already half-dead, and it was impossible to think about anything else. An hour passed without any change in the conditions of the captivity.Nobody came to see them, nobody came to restore them the freedom of movement and speech, which they so needed!They could only let out choked sighs, hum through the rags stuffed in their mouths, and writhe like carp leaving a pond.It is not difficult to understand what silent anger and suppressed (or rather tied up) anger all this means.After a series of futile efforts, they fell silent for a while.Since sight was of no use, the senses had to be relied upon for certain clues as to the truth of this disturbing state of affairs.But they were in vain, hearing nothing but the endless, inexplicable whirring that seemed to surround them in a trembling air.

But a new situation appeared at this time: Phil Evans tried and tried, and finally loosened the rope that bound his wrist. Later, the rope buckle was gradually opened, and his fingers slipped out one by one.His hands moved freely again as usual. After some friction, the blood circulation that was bound and blocked was restored.After another moment, Phil Evans undid his blindfold, removed the gag, and cut the cord with the sharp edge of his hunting knife.An American who does not carry a hunting knife with him at all times is not an American. Phil Evans could move and talk now, but that was all.His eyes were out of use just yet—at least not now: the room was pitch black.However, there is a hole like a gun hole in the wall at a height of six or six feet, through which a little light can come through.

Not to mention that everyone wanted it, Phil Evans immediately went to untie his deadly enemy without any hesitation.With a few strokes of his little hunting knife he cut the ropes that bound Uncle Pruden's hands and feet.Uncle Pruden, who was on the verge of madness, got up on his knees, tore off the blindfold and the gag, and said in a newly recovered voice: "thanks!" "No! . . . You're welcome," replied another. "Phil Evans?" "Uncle Prudang?" "Here, don't distinguish between the chairman and secretary of the Weldon Society. No one is a competitor!"

"It makes sense," Phil Evans replied. "The priority now is for the two of us to take revenge on the third party. We should take severe revenge for his murder. This third party is..." "It's Robier! . . . " "It's Robill!" On this point, the two former competitors are in complete agreement.There is no need to worry about disputes over this kind of issue. "What about your footman?" said Phil Evans, pointing to Fricoland, panting like a seal. "Untie him, shall we?" "Don't worry yet," said Uncle Pruden, "we'll be bored to death by his complaints, but we have other things to do than teach him a lesson!"

"What do you mean? Uncle Pruddan." "Escape, if possible." "Escape even if it is impossible." "That's right, Phil Evans, escape even if it's impossible." As to whether the kidnapping should be blamed on the head of Robbier the Weird, the Chairman and his colleagues never hesitated for a moment in their minds.Yes, if it's those common ones.If they were real robbers, they would first take their pocket watches, jewels, purses, and then put a good knife in their chest and throw them into the Shuikill River instead of throwing them Locked in... locked in what?This is indeed a serious problem. No matter how sure the escape is, one should understand it before escaping.

"Phil Evans," continued Uncle Prudden, "we'd come out of the meeting, and we might not be so absent-minded if we hadn't been so verbal (no need to mention it now). If we On the streets of Philadelphia, such a thing would never have happened. This Robier, obviously anticipating what was going to happen in the club, had already thought that his aggressive attitude would arouse the anger of everyone, so he went to the door in advance. He assigned some of his thugs to be his helpers. The gang followed us as we left Walnut Road, and when they saw us accidentally walk into the Fairmont Parkway, They will win."

"Exactly," Phil Evans said. "Our biggest mistake was not going straight home." "The fault is that there is no reason to do so," replied Uncle Pruden. At this moment, a long sigh came from the dark corner of the hut. "What's going on?" asked Phil Evans. "Nothing! . . . It's Fricoland talking in his sleep." Uncle Prudang said again: "We were kidnapped a few steps from the glade, and we were thrown in this cell in less than two minutes. Obviously, these people didn't get us out of Fairmont Park." "If it does knock us out of the park, we should feel moved."

"Yes," replied Uncle Prudden, "so, there is no doubt that we must be locked in the compartment of some kind of vehicle—either a long truck like the one on the western prairie, or a charlatan's cart." "Obviously! If it's a boat on the Shoekill River, we should be able to make out the current rolling the boat from side to side." "Yes, you are very right!" said Uncle Pruden repeatedly, "so I think that since we are still in the glade, it means that we have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to escape, anyway, we can do it at any time in the future." Find this Robier..."

"Make him pay for the violation of civil liberties in two United States of America!" "A high...very high price!" "What does this man do? . . . What country? . . . English? German? French? . . . " "It is enough to know that he is a rascal," said Uncle Pruden. "Now, let's do it!" The two stretched out their hands, spread their ten fingers, and began to feel around the walls of the small room, looking for joints or gaps.No.There was nothing on the door either.The door is tightly closed, and there is no possibility of picking the lock at all.Looks like you have to dig a hole and escape from it.The question is whether the small hunting knife can dig the wall, and whether the blade will be dulled or broken.

"Where is this booming hum coming from?" Phil Evans asked, puzzled by the constant boom. "Probably the wind?" replied Uncle Pruden. "Wind?... But I think, tonight, until midnight, there was no wind at all." "Phil Evans, that's obvious. If it's not the wind, what is it?" Phil Evans drew his knife, ready to dig the wall next to the door.If the door is only bolted from the outside, or if the key is still in the lock, it may be possible to open the door from the outside by digging a hole. After digging for a few minutes, there was no result except that the knife was chipped and turned into a thousand-tooth saw. "Can't dig?" "I can't dig." "Isn't the house we're staying in an iron cabin?" "It's not like, these walls don't make any metallic sound when knocked." "Either ironwood?" "Neither iron nor wood!" "what is that?" "I can't tell. Anyway, it's the kind of thing you can't cut with a steel knife." Uncle Puchu became angry all of a sudden, he cursed, stamped his feet on the floor, and strangled the imaginary Robier's neck with his hands. "Calm down, Uncle Pruddan," Phil Evans advised, "Calm down! You can try it too." Uncle Pruden tried, but even the sharpest edge of his little hunting knife made a mark, let alone dug through the wall, as if cutting crystal with an ordinary knife. Therefore, even if one could escape by simply opening the door, there is no such possibility now. It's not in Yankee temper to leave it to fate.Moreover, everything is subject to chance, which is also abhorred by highly practical people.To this Robbier, they scolded a lot: what a foul language.Cursing was coming out--if Robbier's private life had the spirit he showed at the Welton Institute, he probably wouldn't have cared about it. At this time, Fricoland made a few more clear meanings.A signal of distress.Either with stomach cramps or cramps in his limbs, he writhed miserably on the floor. Uncle Prudang felt that this kind of physical training should come to an end, so he cut the ropes that bound the black man. He probably started off right away, because the Negro, tormented by fear and pangs of hunger, immediately babbled.For Fricoland, both the feeling of the stomach and the feeling of the brain can influence him. It is difficult to say which organ is more related to his feeling. "Fricoran!" "Uncle Master!...Uncle Master!..." The black man responded while wailing. "We risked starving to death in this cell, so we decided to wait until everything edible that would prolong our lives had been consumed before we died." "To eat me?" "As everyone would do on such occasions... So, Fricoland, you'd better not be reminded of your existence..." "Or beat you...into...meat...mud!" Phil Evans added. Fricoran was really afraid of being used to prolong two lives that were obviously more precious than his own, so he had to suppress his groans. Time ticked by, and any attempts to open the door or the walls were fruitless.What the walls were made of was simply impossible to discern.Not metal, not wood, not stone.Also, the floor of the small room appears to be of the same material.The sound of stamping the floor with his feet was so peculiar that it was difficult for Uncle Prudden to classify this sound into any known sound.Another thing that caught my attention was that from the sound of the floor, it seemed to be empty below, and it didn't seem to be directly resting on the clearing in the forest.right!That inexplicable rumble seemed to be right under the floorboards.All this is really worrying. "Uncle Prudden!" said Phil Evans. "What's the matter, Phil Evans?" replied Uncle Prudden. "Do you think our room is moving?" "Not at all." "When we were first locked in, I could clearly smell the fragrance of green grass and the smell of resin in the park. But now, no matter how hard I smell it, I can't smell it anymore. It seems that everything has disappeared..." "indeed so." "How should this be explained?" "Phil Evans, explain it all you want except the assumption that our cells have moved. I repeat, if we were in a moving car or a ship underway, we It should be felt." At this moment, Fricoland let out a long moan.If he hadn't groaned a few more times, everyone really thought that he died after the first groan. "I guess this Robier will call us in a moment." "I hope so," cried Uncle Pruden, "then I'll tell him..." "Say what?" "That he was just a madman before, and now he's a villain!" At this time, Phil Evans found that the sky had brightened.A dim light was coming through a narrow window above the wall opposite the door.This shows that it is already four o'clock in the morning. It is at this latitude in June that the Philadelphia skyline begins to be illuminated by morning light. When Uncle Pruden rang his reed watch, which was the masterpiece of his colleague's factory, it was only fifteen minutes to three, but the watch never stopped. "Strange!" said Phil Evans. "It's fifteen minutes to three. It should still be dark." "Either my watch is slow..." said Uncle Pruden. "Walton Watches go slow sometimes!" exclaimed Phil Evans. Anyway, the sky did start to light up.In the thick darkness of the room, the small window gradually showed a white outline.Dawn shouldn't come so early in Philadelphia at 40 degrees north latitude, but it shouldn't come as quickly as it does at lower latitudes, either. Uncle Prudden's new discovery is yet another inexplicable phenomenon. "Shall we crawl up to the window and see where the hell we are," said Phil Evans. "Okay." Uncle Prudang replied. Then he turned to Fricoran again and said, "Now, Fry, stand up!" The Negro stood up. "Stand with your back against the wall," said Uncle Prudden again, "Phil Evans, please climb onto the boy's shoulders, and I'll hold him so he won't fall if he can't hold on." you." "Yes," replied Phil Evans. In a moment he was kneeling on Fricolin's shoulder, and his eyes were on the window. The window had no lensed glass like the portholes of ships, but just a plain glass.Although the glass was not thick, it obstructed Phil Evans' vision, making his vision extremely limited. "Then break the glass, so maybe you can see better?" said Uncle Pruden. Phil Evans smacked the glass hard with the handle of his hunting knife.The glass rang like silver bells, but it didn't break. He tapped harder.The result is still the same. "Wow!" exclaimed Phil Evans, "and fiberglass!" It must be fiberglass tempered according to the method of the inventor Simmons.No matter how you smash it, the fiberglass remains intact. It was, however, quite light outside now, and it was possible to see as far as the eye could see—at least within the confines of the window frames. "See anything?" asked Uncle Pruden. "Nothing." "Why? Not a single clump of trees?" "No." "Not even a treetop?" "No." "Then we're not in the Glade?" "Neither in a glade nor in a park." "You can at least see the top of the roof or something?" said Uncle Pruden, increasingly disappointed and annoyed. "No roof, no top of anything." "Why! Not even a flagpole on the roof of a pavilion, a church tower, or a factory chimney?" "There is only endless space." At this moment, the door of the room was opened.A man appeared at the door.It's Robier. "Dear balloonists," he said in a solemn voice, "you are now free to move about..." "Freedom to move!" cried Uncle Prudang. "Yes... to a limited extent on the 'Albatross'!" Uncle Prudden and Phil Evans rushed out of the room. what did they see The place 1,200 to 300 meters below their feet was completely unfamiliar to them.