{Illustration: “Don't jump! Don't jump!” cried the crowd.}
“Well, they'll have their trouble for their pains,” snapped Hawkins. “We shall be on the ground before they get here.”
“Why not wait?” I said. “We'll be sure to get down safely that way, and you don't know what you may do by starting the machinery. The wires are all mixed up in it, and they may smash and drag us down, or upset us, Hawkins.”
“Croak! Croak! Croak!” replied Hawkins, sourly. “Go on and croak till your dying day, Griggs. If any one ever offers a prize for a pessimistic alarmist, you take my advice and compete. You'll win. I'm going to start the engine and get out of this.”
He pulled the reverse lever, and the engine buzzed merrily. The auto indulged in a series of unwholesome convulsive shivers, but it didn't budge.
“Hey! Hey!” floated up from the crowd.
“Oh, look and see what they're howling about now,” growled Hawkins.
The cause of their vociferations was only too apparent.
Ping! Ping! Ping! One by one, sawed in two by the machine, the telegraph wires were snapping!
“Stop it! Stop it, Hawkins!” I cried. “You're smashing the wires!”