The Heroes of the School Part 27

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.

CHAPTER XXIV

INTO THE RIVER

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 sc.r.a.ps 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 ma.s.s 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 airs.h.i.+p was a mere speck in the heavens. A little later it disappeared above the clouds.

There were some threats of arresting the manager of 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 s.h.i.+ver.

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."