“Say, Frank!” he called out; “am I dreaming, or is that really a runaway balloon drifting this way, with a man hanging to the broken basket?”
CHAPTER III
A VISITOR FROM THE SKIES
“A balloon—yes, that’s what it must be, Bob!” exclaimed the prairie boy, who had doubtless never before set eyes on such an object as now dawned upon his startled vision.
“Sure it is, Frank; I’ve seen ’em lots of times at the country fairs in Kentucky,” Bob went on, almost breathlessly, as he reached the side of his chum.
The two stood watching with wide eyes the approach of the bulky, unwieldly object, that nearly dragged along the ground at times, since it was in a partly collapsed state.
“He seems to be waving his arms at us, Bob!” declared Frank, whose eyes were nearly as keen as those of a hawk.
“Yes, he is trying to tell us something, Frank,” replied the other.
“Perhaps he’s in a peck of trouble,” suggested the other.
“I’m most sure of that, for the old gas-bag is half empty; but the wind carries it along, you see,” Bob remarked, as the balloon continued to head directly for the spot where they stood.
“Perhaps he’s afraid it’ll hit the trees?” cried Frank.