“But be mighty careful, Leo,” cautioned Barton Reeve. “We can’t afford to lose you.”
At the appointed time Leo was on hand, the big balloon was inflated, and up the monster went, with Greson in the tiny basket and Leo clinging to a bar beneath.
The wind was blowing rather strongly, and as they shot up it increased in velocity. Before Leo had time to make a dozen turns on the bar the balloon had left the circus grounds far behind and was sailing rapidly over the outskirts of the town.
Far ahead could be seen the burning forests.
It being useless to remain on the bar, Leo hastily clambered into the basket.
“We had better come down,” he cried.
“We can’t come down fast enough,” gasped Greson.
“What do you mean, Greson?”
“We are sailing along too fast. We’ll land right in the center of the fire.”
“Then what is best to do?”