“Quick! Hand me some more paper!” exclaimed Ned.
Bart passed him a wad. Without stopping to put oil on it Ned lighted the twisted torch. As the flame grew in brightness he held it above his head to cast a glow over the water. But there was no canoe in sight save the one trailing behind their own boat.
“He’s gone!” exclaimed Fenn.
“Well, we found out who it was,” remarked Ned, “and that’s something.”
“It would be more to find out why he was following us,” came from Frank.
“Maybe he’s camping around here,” suggested Bart.
“If he is, he was quite a way from camp,” put in Ned. “I’d been hearing soft paddling behind us for the last two miles and I determined to see who it was.”
“Guess he didn’t want to be seen, by the way he disappeared in such a hurry,” Fenn remarked.
“We’ll have to keep watch to-night,” said Bart. “We don’t want Sandy or any of his friends sneaking around.”
“That’s right,” assented Ned.
They lighted the lantern and, by the gleam of it, and by that from a fire they kindled on shore, they made their camp. A hasty meal was prepared and then the shelter tent was put up. A big pile of brushwood was collected for the fire and, dividing the night into four watches, of which Bart took the first, they spread out the blankets and the other three prepared to sleep.
But the weather, which had favored them all their trip, turned against them now. It began to rain about ten o’clock and from then, until morning, there was a steady downpour.
However they made the best of it, though the tent did leak, and the fire refused to do anything more than smoulder. It was rather a cheerless breakfast they had, for the coffee was only lukewarm and the bacon half done. But they made jokes about it and soon were on their way down the river.
“Guess it was too wet for Sandy,” observed Bart, as he tilted his hat so the rain would not drip down his neck.
They left the canoe at Riverton and made thebest time possible to Darewell. Wet through, but happy in spite of it all they reached their homes, fully satisfied with their trip.
The next morning as Fenn was taking a short cut across lots to get to Frank’s house, he heard a noise as though two birds were calling to one another in a little clump of bushes. The notes came clear and sweet and Fenn paused to catch a sight of the songsters. As he did so something in the bushes moved, a robin flew out and John Newton came into view. As he did so Fenn realized that John was one of the “birds.”
“What were you doing?” asked Fenn, who was once more on friendly, if not intimate terms with John.
“Practicing that robin call.”
“What for?”
“I’m learning to imitate all kinds of birds,” replied John.
“Thought you were working as special delivery messenger at the postoffice?”
“I was but I gave it up. Too much inside. I want to get out where I can hear the birds. I can imitate twenty different kinds now.”
“What good is it?”
“Maybe I can get a job on the stage some day, and it will come in handy. I heard a fellow ina theater orchestra try to imitate a bird once, and it wasn’t anything as good as I can do.”
“If you get on the stage I’ll come and see you,” said Fenn, little thinking that his promise was some day to come true.
“Thanks,” replied John, as he walked off across the field, looking for more birds to practice with, while Fenn went on to Frank’s house.
That afternoon Ned and Fenn went over to Bart’s house and found him cleaning a small rifle.
“What’s up?” asked Fenn.
“Getting ready to go frog hunting,” said Bart. “Dad likes their hind legs fried in butter and I said I’d get him a mess.”
“Where you going?” asked Ned.
“Over to Ducker’s pond. There’s lots of ’em there.”
“Want any company?” inquired Fenn.
“Sure, come along. Get your rifles. There’s a boat over there. Tell Frank and we’ll make a day of it.”
“They ought to be out plentiful after the rain,” remarked Ned. “I’d like to get some for my father. He is fond of ’em.”
The boys found frog-hunting great sport. As they walked home in the twilight they passed a field in which a crowd of men were gathered aboutnumerous wagons. Here and there tents were being raised.
“What’s this?” asked Bart.
“Why it’s the traveling fair,” replied Ned. “Don’t you remember, it’s been advertised for the last two weeks? It must have just gotten in. Come on over.”
Ned’s surmise proved correct. A large traveling show and fair combined had reached Darewell, where it was to remain for three days. There had been a delay, caused by a break-down of some of the wagons, and, instead of arriving in the early morning, they had only now reached the grounds.
A throng had been attracted by the show, and scores of the boys of the town were offering their services to help put up the tents. The burly men in charge, however, went about their business systematically, and, working by the glare of gasolene torches, soon had some of the tents raised, though the main one would not be in place until morning.
In one part of the grounds the cooking wagon with its portable ranges was in full operation, and hungry men and women performers were making a hasty meal.
“Let’s take these frogs home and come backafter supper,” proposed Bart. “We can have some fun.”
This the lads did. They found a bigger crowd than before at the fair grounds, more wagons having arrived with the exhibits.
“Out of the way there!” yelled a hoarse voice as a big vehicle, drawn by four horses, approached where the chums were standing. As they moved out of its path they saw, painted on the side of the wagon in large letters, that showed plainly in the flaring torches, the word:
BALLOON.
“That’s so, there’s going to be a balloon ascension every day,” said Ned. “We’ll have to take this in to-morrow.”
“That’s what we will,” replied Bart. “I’ve never seen a balloon go up.”
“You’ll have a chance to go up in one if you want to,” put in Fenn.
“How?”
“Why this is a captive balloon. It’s fast to the ground by a rope. They let persons go up in it for a half dollar apiece.”
“Then we’ll go up,” decided Frank. “I’ve always wanted a ride in one.”
It was a good thing the fair came during the vacation season, otherwise there would have been slim classes in the schools of Darewell, judging by the throng of boys and girls at the small city of tents, the next day. It seemed that every youngster in the county was on hand long before the time set for the opening.
Many came to watch the men put the big tent up, and the four chums were among this crowd. There was much to interest them in the way the canvas was handled, and to see what appeared a tangled mass of ropes and coverings be evolved into a big shelter, gay with flags and bunting.
“I want to watch ’em get the balloon ready,” said Ned, after they had seen the main tent well under way.
“So do I,” chimed in Bart.
The big bag that was destined to sail through the air was being prepared off to one side, and men were laying pipes from a gas main to whereit was to be filled. It was a modern affair, intended to be inflated with illuminating vapor instead of hot air as is sometimes the case.
“I wonder how high up it goes?” asked Bart.
“Let’s inquire of one of the men,” suggested Frank.
There was such a big crowd around the laborers that they found it almost impossible to work. They fairly had to shove some of the boys and other spectators out of the way.
“Don’t believe they’ll have much time to answer questions,” ventured Fenn.
Just then a big man, who seemed to be in charge of matters, called to one of the assistants, a short chap.
“Hi, Sam, bring five of those ballast bags over here and get a move on! Don’t go to sleep! We haven’t got all day!”
The little man glanced at a pile of bags of sand near where the boys were standing. Each bag had a rope handle with a hook attached to it. The little man dropped the coil of rope he had in his arms.
“Bring five of ’em over!” he exclaimed. “Must think I’m Sandow. It’s all I can do to lift one. They weigh forty pounds a piece,” and, still grumbling, the little man tackled the bags.
It was evident that two, at the most, were all he could manage. Ned, who was watching him saw an opportunity.
“Come on, fellows,” he whispered to his chums. “We’ll give him a hand and maybe he’ll tell us something about the balloon.”
An instant later the four boys hurried to the pile of ballast.
“We’ll help you,” said Bart. “Where do you want ’em?”
“Oh!” exclaimed the little man evidently somewhat surprised at the offer of help. “Right over there where the boss is. Say, you boys are all right!”
The four chums each took hold of a bag. They found them about all they wanted to carry.
“How high up does the balloon go?” asked Fenn, determined to take advantage of the opportunity.
“Thousand feet,” the man replied. “It’s held fast by a thin wire cable that goes over a drum. You boys going up?”
“I guess so,” replied Ned.
“Interested in balloons; eh?”
“Sure thing,” replied Bart. “Have you been running ’em long?”
“Fifteen years. Ain’t much I don’t knowabout ’em, though I don’t go up very often. I won’t do the parachute business, and they want a man who does that now-a-days. I’m getting too old for that.”
By this time the ballast had been deposited where the man in charge wanted it.
“Hook it into the cordage now,” he ordered to the little man, “and you take charge around here, Bill. She’s filling now and I’m going to breakfast.”
“All right,” responded Bill, the newly-made acquaintance of the chums. The boys wanted to ask him more questions, but he saved them the trouble.
“Ever see a balloon fill?” he inquired.
“No. How do they do it?” asked Frank.
“First we spread the bag out on the ground,” the little man explained. “Then we see to the top valve. That’s to let the gas out when it’s up in the air. There’s a cord runs from the valve down to the basket. You pull it a little bit and two little trap doors, worked by springs open, and the vapor escapes from the top. Then we have what’s called the ‘ripping cord.’ That’s colored red. It hangs down just as the other one does. Only if you yank that it tears a strip out of the balloon and lets the gas out in a hurry.”
“What happens then?” asked Ned.
“You come down in a hurry, that’s all. It’s only used for emergency. Well, after we get the bag laid out the way we want it, and the gas pipes connected, we lay the cordage or net over it. Then the balloon begins to fill. We hook on the sand bags, all round the edge of the netting, so’s to keep her steady as she fills. When the gas begins to lift the bags a bit we hook ’em on lower down in the netting, and so on, until the balloon is full. Then we hitch on the basket, put in the proper amount of ballast, and it’s all ready to go up.”
“You let it go up a thousand feet and then pull it down by the wire cable?” asked Bart.
“That’s it. It can make a lot of trips during a day with one filling of gas. When it begins to collapse we put in more.”
“Suppose it should break away?” asked Ned.
“It never has happened with this outfit, though of course it might. I had one get away once.”
“What happened?”
“Why my assistant and myself were in it. We didn’t get scared, as we were old hands at the business. We just pulled the valve cord and let ourselves down easy. The bad part of it was it was at the seashore and we came down in theocean. We lost the balloon but we saved our lives.”
“Did you ever have to pull the ripping cord?” asked Bart.
“Once. You see that’s to use when you want to land in a hurry. I was up in the balloon once and it began to descend. Gas leaked out and I didn’t know it. There was a strong wind and I was being blown out across Lake Michigan that time. It was a case of coming down quick and hard on dry land or being blown out over the lake. I yanked the ripping cord.”
“What happened?” asked Fenn, as the little man stopped.
“Broke both legs,” he replied. “Laid up two months. That sort of discouraged me and I haven’t gone up much since. Make enough money as a helper and I sleep better nights.”
“Is there much danger in a captive balloon?” asked Ned.
“Hardly any. In fact none to speak of,” was the answer. “We’ve got a tested wire cable. It winds over a drum and when the drum is turned it winds the cable up and the balloon comes down.”
“I guess we’ll risk it,” said Ned. “Eh, fellows.”
“You can’t leave me behind,” said Bart, andthe others agreed they would take a chance in the balloon.
All this while the big bag had been filling. The man and several others who were assisting, kept hooking the ballast lower in the cordage loops as the balloon arose in the air. It was over half full now.
The boys took a look at the square basket, or car, that was to be attached to the airship, and at the windlass which brought the captive balloon back to earth.
“Let’s go home and get breakfast and come back,” suggested Bart, as the boys had arisen early that morning. “We’ll take the trip this afternoon.”
The boys returned to the grounds about nine o’clock. It was after ten o’clock before the first ascension was made. Four young men from town went up, that being all the car would hold. The manager cautioned them about touching the cords and then, while the anxious throng watched and waited, the cable began to unwind and the balloon went up.
“That looks easy enough,” declared Bart. “Us for the trip next time.”
Up and up the balloon went until it looked about the size of an apple. It remained up aboutten minutes and then the windlass was turned by the steam engine, which was part of the outfit, and the airship came slowly down.
“How’d you like it?” asked the manager as the young men got out.
“Fine!” they exclaimed as one. “It was great. I could see clear to Woodport.”
“Now who’s going to be the next?” asked the manager in his professional voice. “Try a trip in the airship! View the earth spread out like a map beneath you, the fields mere patches of green, the river a silver ribbon and the forest a mere bit of fuzz like the wool on Mary’s little lamb. Who’s next?”
“We are!” cried Bart, and he and his chums paid their money and took their places in the basket.
“Let her go,” cried the manager, and the boys, looking over the edge of the car, saw the earth dropping away below them.
“What’s the matter?” called Fenn, his voice trembling a little.
“The matter with what?” asked Bart, whose tones were not overly strong just then.
“Why we seem to be standing still and the earth is going down.”
“That’s always the way in a balloon, I’ve read,” spoke Frank. “We can’t see ourselves move as there’s nothing to judge it by. You can’t see the air, and that’s what we’re moving through.”
“Well, it’s a little more scary than I thought it was,” came from Ned. “Still I guess we can get used to it.”
By the time they had been elevated five hundred feet they were accustomed to the strange and peculiar sensation. They were no longer frightened, and when they had gone up as far as the cable would let them they were almost wishing the journey was twice as long. As the manager had said, the country was spread out under them like a big relief map. They could recognize somebuildings in town, and also pick out other hamlets surrounding Darewell. Bart even declared he could see the clearing where Sandy had stood on guard, and where the men had been observed acting so strangely that day, but the others were not able to make it out.
At the end of ten minutes the balloon was hauled down. The boys climbed from the basket, trying to answer the scores of questions that were asked of them by persons in the crowd. After that many made trips in the captive airship.
“It was great,” declared Bart.
“I almost wish it had gotten loose,” said Ned. “I’d like to take a long trip.”
“We’ll try it again to-morrow,” said Bart, “only don’t you go wishing it would break loose, Ned. It might happen, you know.”
“That wire cable couldn’t break.”
“All right. I don’t want it to.”
For a long while the boys remained to watch the balloon go up and down with the scores who ventured in it. Then, as there were many other things to see at the fair, they made a tour of the grounds.
They were on hand the next day, and made another trip in the balloon. This time it was a little foggy and they could not see so well.
“Half price to-morrow boys,” remarked the manager, as they came down. “It’s the last day.”
“We’ll have to take it in,” declared Fenn. “Can’t miss a bargain like that.”
So great an attraction did the reduced rate prove that it was afternoon of the last day of the fair before the four chums had a chance to go up in the balloon again. Once more they got into the big basket. The captive airship had been freshly filled with gas and was pulling and tugging at the restraining cable as though it wanted to be free.
“Let her go,” called the manager, and for the third time the boys saw the earth dropping away beneath them. They could not get over that first queer sinking feeling in the stomach as the balloon first started skyward, but, after it had gone up a few hundred feet they were used to it.
The day was a wonderfully clear one, and the boys could see for miles in every direction. Off to the northwest Lake Erie sparkled in the sunlight, and the Still river looked like a band of silver laid between green banks and through dark green forests.
“Isn’t it fine!” exclaimed Frank. “I wish we could stay up all night.”
“I guess we’re going down,” remarked Ned, asthere came a tug at the bottom of the basket where the cable was fastened.
The balloon gave a little jerk and swayed from side to side. The boys clutched the edge of the basket and looked over.
“Something has happened!” cried Ned.
They could see the crowd running to and fro and a number of men signaling to them with their hands.
“What could have happened?” asked Frank. “Is the balloon on fire?”
“No! It’s broken loose!” yelled Fenn. “See! The cable is dangling below us!”
Leaning over as far as they dared, the others saw that the wire rope had become loosened from the drum and was swaying about in the air. It had become unfastened when the machinery began to revolve to haul the balloon down.
“We’re loose! We’re going up!” almost screamed Fenn.
Down below them the earth once more was dropping away at a fearful rate. The freshly-filled balloon was shooting skyward faster than ever before, since there was no restraining cable to hold it back.
The terror of their position held the boys dumbfor a while. They gazed at each other with horror in their eyes. Their cheeks were pale, and their hearts were beating violently.
Being taken so suddenly into the lighter atmosphere of the upper regions almost deprived them of their senses. They could hardly breathe, partly because of natural causes and partly because of the terrible fright that gripped them.
“You—you—got—your—wish, Ned,” spoke Bart with some difficulty, looking at his chum.
“I—I—guess—I—did,” replied Ned slowly.
Their voices seemed to dispel the strain they were all under. They had been fearful of moving since the balloon broke away, thinking they might fall from the terrible height. But now Bart sat down in the bottom of the basket.
“Well, we might be worse off,” spoke Frank.
“How?” asked Fenn.
“We might be falling down instead of up. We’re in no danger for a while anyhow. There’s no wind to speak of. We’re going straight up.”
“How far I wonder?” asked Ned.
“Well, we can stop when we want to,” said Bart.
“How?” inquired Fenn.
“By pulling the valve cord, of course. Don’t you know what the man told us?”
“Oh, of course. Well then, let’s pull it. This is high enough for me.”
They all stood up and began looking for the valve and ripping cords. The man had told them they were connected with the basket, but on previous trips they had not thought to search them out amid the mass of cordage.
“One’s brown and the other’s red,” spoke Bart.
“I don’t see any,” said Fenn, after a long gaze aloft.
“I either,” admitted Bart, and the others had to confess they saw nothing of the cords.
“Maybe they forgot to arrange them for this trip,” suggested Ned.
“Nice pickle for us if they did,” observed Bart. “We’ll sail on forever.”
But, though the boys made light of their plight, it was not a pleasant one. The balloon with its fresh supply of gas was good for many miles’ travel.
“I wonder if we’re going up or standing still?” asked Fenn. He looked over the edge of the basket. The ground below was a mere blur, ofwhich the only difference in color between the woods and the fields could be seen.
“We can soon tell,” replied Bart.
“How?”
“I’ll show you.”
He took from his pocket some paper and began tearing it into little pieces. When he had a handful he tossed them over the side of the basket. They seemed pulled down by some unseen force.
“We’re going up,” announced Bart in a strange voice. “Those papers practically stood still. It was us shooting past them that made it look as though they fell.”
“How far up are we I wonder?” said Fenn.
A moment later a damp mist appeared to settle down over the balloon. So dense was it that they could no longer make out the big bag over their heads.
“We’re above the clouds,” came from Bart in solemn tones.
For a moment the announcement struck such a chill of terror to the hearts of the boys that they did not know what to say. The thought of being more than a mile above the earth was fearful to the lads who had never been even on a high mountain. Now they were far up in the air, with only the frail willow basket, and the lifting power of the gas in the silken bag, between them and death.
“Maybe it’s a fog from the river. Perhaps we’ve dropped down,” said Fenn, anxious to derive some consolation from their perilous position.
“We haven’t come down a foot,” said Bart. “Might as well admit it.”
He tossed some more pieces of the torn paper over the side. This time they remained stationary.
“At any rate we’ve stopped going up,” he called out. “We’re standing still!”
His companions watched the scraps of paper anxiously. Slowly they began to settle toward the earth.
“That proves it,” said Bart. “We’re standing still.”
“Lot of good it will do us,” came from Ned. “How long will we have to stay here?”
“Hard to say,” Bart replied. “But you wanted this to happen so you ought to be satisfied.”
“If I’d known it was like this I’d never wished for it even in fun,” spoke Ned. “Don’t you s’pose we can get down?”
“Sure; sometime. The gas can’t stay in the bag forever. Some is bound to leak out and we’ll descend. Besides, as it gets colder we’ll drop some.”
“How?” asked Frank.
“Why the man told me the cold sort of condenses the gas. Makes it so there isn’t so much of it, and it hasn’t the same lifting power. But there’s one disadvantage to that.”
“How?” inquired Fenn.
“Why as soon as it gets warm again, when the sun comes out, it expands the gas and we’ll rise.”
“Keep on going back and forth, eh?” asked Ned.
“That’s about it,” said Bart.
“I’ve got a plan,” suggested Fenn.
“What, Stumpy?” inquired his chums eagerly.
“I could cut a hole in the bag with my knife and let some of the gas out.”
“How could you reach the bag? The lowest end of it, the neck, where the gas went in, is ten feet over our heads.”
“I could climb up the cordage. I read of a fellow doing that once.”
“Too risky,” decided Bart.
“I’ll chance it,” declared Stumpy.
“We’ll wait a while,” Bart decided. “We may come down without doing that.”
But there did not seem much chance of it. The big balloon was still in the midst of the clouds. Which way they were going the boys had no means of knowing. They could see nothing but the mass of gray vapor, which, now and then, swirled aside long enough to disclose the black bag above their heads.
Meanwhile there was great excitement on the fair grounds. The crowd ran to and fro vainly seeking some means of bringing the balloon down. Word was quickly sent to the boys’ parents and relatives, and they came hurrying to the place, well nigh distracted. By this time the airship was a mere speck in the heavens. A little later it disappeared above the clouds.
There were some threats of arresting the managerof the enterprise, but wiser counsel prevailed. It was shown that the accident was unavoidable. The catch that fastened the wire cable to the drum had become loosened by the many ascensions and let the rope slip away.
“There’s no danger,” the manager declared, but he had hard work to make any one believe him. Indeed his own drawn face showed he was alarmed for the safety of the boys.
“They’re bright lads,” he insisted. “One of my helpers was explaining to them the other day about the valve cords. They will pull them and the balloon will come down. It may sail a few miles from here, but they’ll be all right.”
“Suppose they pull the wrong cord?” asked Mr. Wilding who with Bart’s and Fenn’s parents, and Frank’s uncle had gathered about the manager.
“Oh, they wouldn’t do that,” said the owner of the balloon. “They’re too smart for that.”
“Well, there’s no good in worrying,” decided Mr. Keene. “Maybe the boys can take care of themselves, but they’re in a ticklish place.”
His words served to comfort the others somewhat, though Mrs. Keene and Mrs. Masterson could not stop crying.
Meanwhile there was nothing the boys could do.They could only wait for something to happen. And that something was for the gas to leave the bag gradually so they could descend.
“It’s almost five o’clock,” said Bart, looking at his watch. “I guess we’re good for all night.”
“It’s going to be cold,” said Ned, with a shiver.
Already the mist was beginning to tell on the boys. Their clothes were covered with the fine fog which clung to them like frost. They knew it would be quite chilly before morning.
“And not a thing to eat,” said Bart with a sigh. “The next time I come ballooning I’m going to bring a sandwich.”
“The next time I come ballooning I’ll be a great deal older than I am now,” came from Frank. “No more for yours truly.”
“What I can’t understand,” said Fenn, “is what become of those cords. They must be on the balloon. I saw them the first day.”
“Suppose we take another look,” suggested Ned. “I don’t fancy staying here all night.”
“If we don’t find ’em I’m going to climb up and poke a hole in the bag,” declared Stumpy.
The boys took their positions one on each side of the big basket and began staring aloft, through the mist, for a sight of the cords. There was sucha maze of ropes and netting that it was hard to distinguish anything. The mist too, bothered them.
There came a little puff of wind which made the big balloon sway so that the boys clutched the sides of the willow car. There was a peculiar sensation as though the bottom of their stomachs had dropped out.
“We’re going down!” cried Bart.
The mist seemed to break away. The bag could be plainly seen. Hurriedly Bart tore up some more scraps of paper and tossed them over. They remained stationary an instant and then began to settle earthward.
“False alarm,” said Bart with despair in his voice.
But they had gone down a few feet, or else the mist had lifted, for they were no longer in the cloud. They could see nothing of the earth, however.
All at once Fenn who had resumed his upward-gazing gave a cry.
“What is it, Stumpy?” called Bart.
“The cords! The cords! I see them!” the boy exclaimed.
“Where?” and they all came around to his side.
“There, right near where the mouth of the bag is fastened to the cordage. Don’t you see them?”
“Sure enough! There they are!” exclaimed Bart.
Then the others beheld the brown and red cords that connected, one with the valve in the top, and the other with the strip, to be ripped out, in case of emergency.
“We can’t reach ’em,” said Ned. “They’re ten feet up.”
This was so. The ends of the cords had, in some way, been caught in the netting and were held at least ten feet above the edge of the basket. To reach them meant a dizzy and dangerous climb.
Stumpy looked first from one side of the basket and then from the other, at the cords that meant so much to them. He took off his coat and vest and began removing his shoes.
“What are you going to do?” asked Bart.
“I’m going to get those cords down where we can reach ’em,” said Fenn shortly.
“How? You can’t!”
“You watch me! Didn’t I take the prize at school for high trapeze work?” and Stumpy went on unlacing his shoes.
“Are you going to climb up in that cordage?” demanded Ned.
“That’s what I am.”
“We won’t let you!”
“It’s the only way!” said Fenn earnestly. “We may be killed if I don’t. There’s no danger boys. I’ll climb from the inside. If I fall, I’ll only fall into the basket! I’m going up!”
Before the others could stop him he had reached up and taken a firm hold of the cords just above the edge of the basket. They were very strong, and there were so many of them that they would have held a much greater weight than that of Fenn.
But it was a ticklish thing to climb up the netting of a balloon, more than half a mile above the earth. True, he was right over the basket, and if he slipped would land into it. But it was a daring thing to do, and his chums held their breaths as they watched him.
Up and up Stumpy went. His stockinged feet gave him a good purchase on the netting, and, clinging with his hands in a desperate grip, he mounted higher and higher toward where the caught cords dangled. It was only about ten feet but to Stumpy and his chums it seemed like a thousand.
Now he was but three feet away from the cords. Cautiously he kept on. The balloon swayed with the unusual weight on one side and the basket tilted.
For a moment Fenn hesitated. He was getting dizzy. Then he gritted his teeth and went on. Steadying himself as best he could, in the insecure and waving netting, he reached out one hand and managed to grasp the red cord. He loosened it and it fell so that it hung within reach of his comrades. Then he released the brown one and it, too, fell free.
“Come down!” called Ned, and Stumpy, his dangerous task accomplished, began to descend. He was trembling like a leaf when he crouched down in the basket again. His chums, each in turn, silently pressed his hand. They could not speak for a few moments.
“Now for home!” exclaimed Bart as he grasped the brown cord. “Lie down in the bottom of the basket, all of you. No telling what will happen when the gas begins to go out.”
He pulled the cord slightly. There was a sudden lurch to the balloon and again came that strange feeling as if the bottom of their stomachs were dropping out.
“We’re going down!” cried Frank joyfully.
It was so. The gas escaped through the valve as Bart pulled the cord, and the big airship, its journey almost ended, was nearing the earth.
As the valves would only stay open when the cord was taut, springing shut when it was slack, Bart kept giving it little jerks, regulating them according to the sensation of falling. He did not want the balloon to come down too swiftly.
It was now dusk, and, as they looked over the side of the basket they could dimly distinguish the earth coming up to meet them.
“Can you see where we are?” asked Ned.
“Too dark,” replied Bart.
He opened the valve wider. The balloon shot downward with a sickening swiftness.
“Not so fast,” called Frank.
He got up to look over the edge. As he did so he uttered a cry.
“We’re near the river!” he exclaimed.
Bart let out more gas, hoping to land the balloon before the water was reached, but he miscalculated. An instant later the airship, with the big bag almost collapsed, came down with a rush and the willow basket struck the water with a great splash.
“Jump out and swim for it!” yelled Bart. “The balloon will smother you!”
He dived over the side of the basket. His companions followed him. There was a sickening smell of gas in the air.
Hampered by their shoes and clothing the boys could not make much headway in the water. Fenn, who was not a very good swimmer, was the last to strike out. Bart caught a glimpse of him, and saw the bag settling down over his chum.
He turned and grabbed Fenn by the shoulder, pulling him out of the way just as the silken folds settled down on top of the water.
“What’s the matter? What has happened?” cried a voice through the darkness, and the boys saw lights from a boat flashing in their faces. Then they noticed a big barge looming up, and struck out for it.
“Throw us a line!” called Bart.
Aboard the boat men were running to and fro and calling to one another. More lights flashed out and several figures appeared at the sides. Then ropes splashed into the water.
Bart and Fenn each grabbed one and began to pull themselves aboard. Ned and Frank were onthe other side of the barge. There also, men had cast cables into the river and their splash told the swimming boys there was help at hand. They grabbed the lines, and soon all four were standing on the deck of the craft.
“Well, where did you all come from?” asked a hearty voice and a big man, his face almost concealed by a beard, that covered everything except his eyes, strode forward.
“From the balloon,” replied Ned.
“So that’s what that big thing was that flopped down here, eh?” asked the man. “Well, you had quite a time of it. Who are you, anyhow, airship men?”
Ned told their names, and related how the balloon had broken away, taking them with it.
“I guess it’s valuable,” he added. “Maybe if you took it aboard you could get a reward.”
“We’ve got something else to do besides saving balloons,” the bearded man replied. “Delayed our trip as it was, pulling you chaps from the water, but I don’t mind that. Let ’em send for their old gas bag if they want it. Guess it won’t run away.”
“Are you the captain of this boat?” asked Bart, taking off his coat and wringing some of the water out of it.
“That’s what I am, Captain Needham, of the steam bargeComet. At present under sealed orders,” and he laughed.
“Where are we?” asked Frank.
“On the Still river, just above Dunkirk,” replied the captain.
“How far is that from Darewell?” inquired Bart.
“Are you from Darewell?” asked Captain Needham quickly, and he looked sharply at the boys who stood in a circle of light cast by several lanterns.
“Yes. That’s where we live,” replied Bart.
“Well, you’re about fifty miles from home.”
“Which way are you going?” asked Frank, as the barge was anchored then, and the boys had not had time to notice in which direction she was headed.
“We’re going up the river.”
“Then I guess we’d better go ashore,” remarked Ned. “We don’t want to get any further away from home. We must send word to our folks that we’re safe.”
“Of course,” spoke the captain. “It’s going to be a little difficult though. There’s no telephone in Dunkirk, and you’ll have to tramp five miles to send a message. You’d better stay aboard untilwe get to Flanders, that’s the next town above. We’ll be there by morning, and you can wire from there.”
“I think we’d better go ashore now and take our chances at getting a message through to-night,” Frank said. “Maybe we can hire a carriage in Dunkirk.”
“Well now, I hate to interfere with your plans,” the captain said, “but I’m behindhand now, and I can’t stop to put you ashore. You’ll have to wait until morning.”
“One of us could swim ashore and send a message,” put in Ned. “We really ought to send one.”
“Well, go below to the engine room and get dried out first,” the captain advised. “The river is full of rocks here and it’s a bad place to swim. The banks are a mass of muck, like quick-sand, dangerous to venture into. You get your clothes off and we’ll soon have ’em dry. By that time we’ll be in a better place for swimming. Besides you must be hungry. We’re under way again.”
As he spoke there was a throbbing to the barge that told the boys the engine had been started. The anchor was hauled up and the boat againstarted up the river. It was too dark to see more than the dim outline of the big gas bag as it rested partly on shore and partly in the water.
“Yes, I guess drying-out wouldn’t hurt us,” Frank said. “But after that we must get word to the folks if we have to walk ten miles.”
“That’s right,” agreed his chums.
“Suit yourselves,” the captain said. “Now come on with me and I’ll fix you up.”
He led the way to the engine room, and turned the boys over to one of the deck hands. The latter collected from the men some old garments the boys could don while their own were drying. Their change consisted of nothing but a jumper and a pair of overalls each, but it was warm in the engine room and they did not mind. Their soaking clothing and shoes were soon in the process of steaming dry on hot pipes.
“‘All’s well that ends well’” quoted Frank. “We certainly did have a strenuous time of it for a while though.”
“Wonder where this barge is going to?” said Ned. “It’s a bigger one than I ever saw on the river before. It’s got a lot of machinery aboard, too.”
“That doesn’t interest me so much as the questionof when they have supper,” came from Bart. “I’m getting warm and dry and I begin to feel my appetite coming back.”
They were close to the big boiler where it was warm enough to almost bake bread. As they were huddled there, getting the river chill out of them, they heard somebody approaching down the passage that led to the engine room.
“Hope it’s someone to say supper is ready,” spoke Fenn.
“Captain Needham says you are to—” a voice began and then it suddenly stopped. The chums looked up and saw, in the glare from a lantern, a youth staring at them.
“Sandy Merton!” exclaimed Ned.
At this the other boys pressed forward to get a look at the lad who had acted so strangely of late. But Sandy did not give them a chance. He turned and fairly ran from the engine room.
“Well of all the odd places we come across that chap this is the queerest,” spoke Ned. “What in the world can he be doing here?”
“Just what I was going to ask,” Bart said. “It looks funny. We must ask Captain Needham.”
“Ah, boys, getting warmed through?” asked a voice, and Captain Needham appeared a littlelater. “Well, you look pretty comfortable. Guess you’re ready for supper.”
“You’re a good guesser, sir,” said Fenn with a laugh.
“Right this way then,” the captain went on quickly, opening a small door which led from the engine room. “I’ll have something sent in here. There’s a table and some chairs. It’s warm and you can dress in there when your clothes are dry.”
The boys went into the apartment he indicated. It was lighted by a small hanging lamp. They sat down to the table, presenting a queer sight in the overalls and jumpers several sizes too large for them. In a little while a man came in with a big tray on which were plates of beef-stew, cups of coffee and plenty of bread and butter.
“Sort of a pick-up meal,” Captain Needham said, as he looked in on them a little later, when they were in the midst of it. “Best we could do in a hurry. We don’t often have people drop in on us out of a balloon for supper,” and he laughed.
“Say, captain,” began Ned. “Is that boy—”
“I’ll be back in a little while,” called the captain, as he closed the door, leaving the chums alone.
“I was going to ask him about Sandy,” added Ned.
“It’ll keep,” remarked Bart.
The boys finished their meal and felt better.
“I’d like to get into my clothes,” remarked Fenn. “I want to see about sending a message home. We must be out of the dangerous part of the river now.”
“Open the door and we’ll go back to the engine room and see if they aren’t dry,” suggested Frank.
Bart, who was nearest, turned the knob. The door did not open.
“Stuck, I guess,” he said, and gave it a yank. It moved a bit, but only enough to show that it was fastened in some way.
“Locked!” exclaimed Ned. “They’ve locked us in!”
“Can’t be!” came from Bart. “What in the world would they do that for?”
“Don’t know,” admitted Ned. “But you can see for yourself. The door’s locked.”
“Maybe the catch slipped by mistake when the captain went out,” suggested Frank. “Give him a call, or pound on the wall to attract attention.”
“Let me give the door another try,” Bart said. “No use making a false alarm. Maybe it’s only stuck.”
But it was too evident that the portal was locked. The knob turned freely, but the bolt was shot and effectually made the boys prisoners.
“Shall I pound on the door?” asked Bart.
“Let’s see if there isn’t another way out,” suggested Ned.
They looked all around the room. It was about ten feet square, and, aside from the table, chairs and lamp contained no furniture or furnishings.
“There isn’t even a window,” said Frank.
“What’s that up there?” inquired Fenn, pointing to some sort of an opening near the ceiling.
Bart climbed up on the table and investigated.
“It’s a window,” he said, “but it’s not more than a foot square, and has bars to it. More for ventilation than anything else I guess. It’s just above the waterline, for I can hear the river and the noise of the propeller.”
“It must be a mistake,” said Frank. “Go ahead, Bart, and make a racket like a base drum. We’ve got to get out of here, dress and get ashore somehow.”
Thereupon Bart pounded with both fists on the door, while the boys aided him by yelling. They kept it up for several minutes but there was no response.
“Maybe the machinery makes so much noise they can’t hear us,” remarked Ned. “Let’s all pound together. Use the chair and save our fists.”
They raised a thundering din by knocking the chairs against the walls of the room and the door.
“Surely someone must hear that,” said Bart, as he stopped to rest his arm. Evidently someone did, for in the silence that followed a voice asked:
“What do you want?”
“We want to get out,” called Bart. “We’re locked in.”
“Well boys, I’m very sorry,” went on the voice, which they recognized as that of Captain Needham’s “but I can’t let you out.”
“You can’t let us out?” demanded Ned. “What right have you got to keep us here, prisoners.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of calling you prisoners,” the captain said in a gentle tone from the other side of the door.
“What else is it?” Bart asked indignantly.
“Well, you’re only detained for a little while, that’s all. I can’t explain now, but it will be all right in a few days. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I’m bound to secrecy. If you will only be patient I’m sure it will be all right inside of a week.”
“Do you mean to say you’re going to keep us here a week?” inquired Fenn.
“Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to, you know. You’ll be well taken care of. Plenty to eat, but I’m sorry I can’t give you any better clothes than those you have on. You can’t run away in them, and you might if you had your own.”
“You’ll be sorry for this!” threatened Bart.“When we do get out you’ll be arrested. You can’t do this sort of thing in this country!”
“But I have done it,” the captain replied, and the boys thought they heard him laughing. “Now don’t get excited. We’ll treat you well.”
“We don’t want to be treated well!” fired back Frank. “We want our rights! We demand that you release us at once!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it, boys. The best I can do is to send word to your folks that you are safe, but unavoidably detained,” and this time the boys were sure the man was laughing.
“We’ll break this door down if you don’t let us out!” shouted Ned, and he banged a chair against the portal.
“I guess you’ll have your own troubles doing that,” the captain replied. “Go ahead and try. Now I’m going to treat you good. There’s another room opening off from the one where you are. It has bunks in it, a wash basin, running water and a few other conveniences. Just imagine you’re on a steamer, taking a trip for a few days, and it will soon be over.”
There was a clicking sound, and a part of the wall, the boys would never have taken for a door, slid back and showed a small room adjoining the one they were in. It had four bunks and a littlewashroom, but there was no opening from it save the same kind of a ventilator that was in the first apartment.
“Breakfast will be served to you here in the morning,” the captain called and then the boys could hear him going away.
For a little while the chums were too surprised at the sudden turn of affairs to be able to make any remarks. Then Bart exclaimed:
“Well, of all the high-handed, piratical proceedings this is the limit. It’s just like a dime novel, or a five-cent library plot.”
“Only not half so funny,” spoke Ned. “The folks will be very much worried about us.”
“Maybe the captain will keep his word and send them a message,” ventured Bart.
“If he says we’re unavoidably detained that will make them almost as much worried as if they didn’t hear from us,” added Frank. “Boys, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“How?” asked Bart, with something like despair in his voice.
He might well ask how. Clad in garments which they could hardly venture out in, with no shoes, and without so much as a penknife to cut their way free, their case seemed hopeless. Their only weapons were the spoons which had been furnishedwith their meal. There were no knives or forks.
“We’ve got to do it,” Bart decided.
Silence fell upon them. They could feel the boat vibrate with the speed of the engine. They were still being carried up stream.
“What’s it all about?” asked Fenn. “That’s what gets me! I can’t understand it!”
“I think I have a sort of clew,” said Frank.
“What is it?”
“It hinges on the same thing that has been a mystery from the first.”
“You mean the King of Paprica?” asked Ned.
“That’s it. At first I thought those men were crazy. Now I begin to think differently.”
“But what is their object, and why do they want to make prisoners of us? What have we done?”
“I think we have Sandy Merton to thank for our being locked up,” went on Frank. “You see the captain arranged this after Sandy saw us and ran back to tell Mr. Needham. Sandy has been on our trail. You remember he was in the canoe. Then he was on guard there, near where those men had their hut. You can depend on it there’s a deep mystery here, and, in some way, whether we know it or not, we’re mixed up in it.”
“Do you think these men on the boat are, also?”
“Of course. They’re acting for some one, and they don’t want us to get away to give an alarm. That’s as much as I can understand now. If any of you can get at the bottom of it say so.”
But no one could.
“It’s getting cold in here,” remarked Bart. “I’m going to crawl in the bunk. These overalls are rather thin.”
He got into one of the narrow beds and the others followed his example. The light from the lamp in the other room illuminated the apartment dimly. The boys talked the situation over from all sides coming to no conclusion.
“But what are we going to do?” asked Ned.
“Let’s wait until morning,” suggested Bart. “We’ll be rested then, and can think better. We’ll have a look around the place and maybe we can make a break.”
“Let’s make a break when they open the door to give us breakfast,” suggested Ned.
“That might be a good plan,” came from Bart. “The morning will do. We can’t accomplish anything to-night, so there’s no use fretting.”
In spite of their unpleasant position the boys finally fell asleep and slumbered soundly. Bartwas the first to awaken and he hardly knew where he was. A glance around soon brought to his mind what had happened. He hurried into the other room. As he reached it he gave a cry that brought his companions in on the run.
“What is it?” asked Ned.
Bart pointed to the table. The dishes had all been removed while they slept and the lamp was gone. A dim light came in through the ventilators.
“They were here in the night!” cried Bart.
“What’s queer about that?” asked Frank.
“This,” spoke Bart. “They didn’t come in through the door, as the chairs are in front of it just as we left them, and the door opens inwardly.”
“Well?” asked Fenn.
“They didn’t come in through the window, for there isn’t any.”
“How did they get in then?” asked Fenn.
“There must be some secret way that we don’t know about. We must find it. That’s how we can escape.”
“Perhaps it’s around the ventilators,” suggested Frank.
“We’ll take a look,” spoke Bart.
They soon found that the one in the bunk roomwould not admit the body of a child, to say nothing to that of a man. The one in the room where they had eaten was similar. As Bart, standing on the table, was examining it closely, he motioned to his companions to make no noise.