Larry Greson, the assistant, lay on the floor of the basket, too frightened to move.
“Out with the sandbags!” cried the young gymnast. “It is our one hope!”
“What’s the use? The balloon is on fire!” gasped Greson hopelessly.
“We must do something—I won’t give up!” was Leo’s response.
He began to cast out the heavy bags one after the other. Greson at last consented to help him.
The burning balloon shot up into the air fifty or sixty feet. But only for a few seconds.
Yet this space of time was enough to carry them over the worst of the burning forest.
Then they began to settle again, the smoke rolling blackly on all sides of them.
“We’re goners!” groaned Greson. “Good-by.”
Splash! What was this? Both could scarcely believe the evidence of their senses.