“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, of which 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.