sea in, all
the Indians would see it, and hear it, being built; and they'd ask what
it was for. They would interfere. They'd sooner have anything happen
than lose the Doctor. Why, I believe if they thought he had any idea of
escaping they would put chains on him."

"Yes, I really think they would," I agreed. "Yet without a ship of some
kind I don't see how the Doctor is going to get away, even secretly."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Polynesia. "If we do succeed in making him
take this holiday, our next step will be to get the sea-snail to promise
to take us all in his shell and carry us to the mouth of Puddleby River.
If we can once get the snail willing, the temptation will be too much
for John Dolittle and he'll come, I know--especially as he'll be able to
take those new plants and drugs of Long Arrow's to the English doctors,
as well as see the floor of the ocean on the way."

"How thrilling!" I cried. "Do you mean the snail could take us under the
sea all the way back to Puddleby?"

"Certainly," said Polynesia, "a little trip like that is nothing to him.
He would crawl along the floor of the ocean and the Doctor could see all
the sights. Perfectly simple. Oh, John Dolittle will come all right, if
we can only get him to take that holiday--AND if the snail will consent
to give us the ride."

"Golly, I hope he does!" sighed Jip. "I'm sick of these beastly
tropics--they make you feel so lazy and good-for-nothing. And there are
no rats or anything here--not that a fellow would have the energy to
chase 'em even if there were. My, wouldn't I be glad to see old Puddleby
and the garden again! And won't Dab-Dab be glad to have us back!"

"By the end of next month," said I, "it will be two whole years since
we left England--since we pulled up the anchor at Kingsbridge and bumped
our way out into the river."

"And got stuck on the mud-bank," added Chee-Chee in a dreamy, far-away
voice.

"Do you remember how all the people waved to us from the river-wall?" I
asked.

"Yes. And I suppose they've often talked about us in the town since,"
said Jip--"wondering whether we're dead or alive."

"Cease," said Bumpo, "I feel I am about to weep from sediment."

THE SEVENTH CHAPTER. THE DOCTOR'S DECISION

WELL, you can guess how glad we were when next morning the Doctor, after
his all-night conversation with the snail, told us that he had made up
his mind to take the holiday. A proclamation was published right away
by th