“Wait! Stop! Hold on!” cried Ben above the din of the machinery. “I’m not the inventor of this thing! He’s a crazy man, an he fastened me here to experiment with. Cut me loose before he gets back! Stop the machinery!”
“Vot is dot?” cried the magazine man, for such he was. “You are not the inventor? You are tied up by him? Stop der machinery? How shall I do it?”
“First cut me loose!” cried Ben. “I’ll stop the motor when I get up! It’s liable to fly to pieces now!”
For several seconds the newcomer stood irresolute. It took the idea some time to get all the way in, though when it did he was not slow to act. Whipping out his knife, he cut the ropes that bound Ben. The latter, as soon as he could stand, sprang to the wall, where he had noticed the electric switch, and shut off the current. The motor and screw slowed down, and the hum of machinery stopped.
“It’s lucky you came along when you did,” said Ben, who was quite pale from his adventure. “I thought I was a goner.”
“How did all dis happen?” asked the German magazine writer.
Our hero explained. It appeared that the German magazine man had also received a letter, asking that a reporter be sent to write up the flying machine.
“Dot luck you speak of, he is a queer thing,” said the German, when Ben had finished his recital. “I was going first to mine supper, but I dinks I get de story first and eat myself afterwards. Dot is lucky for you.”
“That’s what it is. Now we’d better get out of here before that crazy inventor comes back. I don’t know where he went, though he said he was going to see if I fell through to the cellar.”
“Ach, if he is crazy, I wants none of him!” exclaimed the magazine man. “Our life it is hard enough widout such troubles!”