“Huh! I’d rather think he’s afraid it won’t do that same!” Bob ventured. “For it looks to me as if that man would give just anything to be safe on the ground again. See how wild he is getting, Frank!”
“We must do something for him!” declared Bob’s chum.
With his eye he gauged the coming on the runaway balloon. Then he started to run rapidly forward, turning a little to the left.
“Think it’s going to come here?” questioned Bob, who had obediently trailed along at the heels of his chum; for Bob knew that as a rule Frank could be depended upon to do the right thing.
“Unless there’s a sudden shift of the wind he’s bound to; and I don’t expect that to happen,” came the reply.
Indeed, Bob could himself see that the chances were as ten to one that they now stood directly in the path of the coming balloon. It had considerable momentum, and there was a question as to whether two boys would be able to curb the rush of the big gas-bag.
When Bob thought this he failed to give his comrade full credit for his sagacity. Frank had anticipated just that thing. And more than that, he was prepared to meet the emergency.
Frank was so constituted that he could apply such practices as came into his daily life to the needs of the hour. For one thing, he had noticed that a long and apparently stout rope was trailing down on the ground. Perhaps it had once had an anchor of some sort attached; but if so, this had long since been torn away.
Bob was nerving himself for a tug of war when the two of them threw their combined weight on that rope. He was therefore greatly astonished to hear his chum suddenly exclaim:
“Leave it to me, Bob; but stand by to help, if I call on you!”