“I think it does,” was the reply. “We will have to go nearer to make sure.”
It did not take long for all to adjust the wet handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses. Jerry then started the propellers, and once more the Comet approached the Manhattan. Could they come close enough to make the rescue, and still be safe themselves? Each breath they drew would soon tell the story.
Anxiously they noted the effect.
“I can’t smell or breathe any gas!” mumbled Ned, for the handkerchief interfered with speaking.
“Me, neither,” added Ned.
“It’s all right!” declared the professor. “We can go as close as we wish, but we can’t stay long, for the chemical will soon evaporate. Work lively, boys!”
It was only a few minutes more before the Comet was close beside the disabled balloon. The latter was a large craft, and was floating easily along, her machinery silent. Silent, too, and motionless, were the five men who constituted the pilot and crew. In various attitudes they were stretched in the open cabin, as if they had struggled there for air. It could not yet be told whether they were dead or alive.
“Quick, now!” mumbled Jerry. “Run out the planks, and we’ll cross over and carry the men on board here.”
He skillfully put the Comet alongside of the other craft. There they were, high in the air over the ocean, yet almost like two vehicles on earth, or two boats floating on the surface of the water. Jerry shut off the propellers, letting the Comet drift at the same rate as did the other craft.