It was so dark in the cabin that the boys could only dimly see each other, but Ned was groping about near the silent engine. In a moment he had secured from the ammunition case a storage electric light, and cautiously shading the lens with his cap he asked Bob to hold it. Then he turned to his chum.
"I didn't know just how we would use our little drop light," he began; "but it seems that the idea wasn't half bad. There is a tribe of Indians not far from here that would steal a horse or cut a man's throat quickly enough—the renegade or Southern Utes." As he spoke he was digging in a chest extracting various small parcels. "Not even the other Indians have any use for the Utes. And there is only one thing to do. We must first find out if our friends are below."
With the help of the flashlight Bob could we that Ned held in his hand a large, high candle-power incandescent bulb and was adjusting it in a silver reflector.
"With an electric light?" exclaimed Bob.
"Why not?" replied Ned. "And the help of our little dynamo."
Ned took the flashlight, held it under his coat, and crawled around in front of the silent engine. "It's here," he explained for Bob's benefit, "and I am just throwing the gear onto the propeller shaft."
"Well, if you are afraid to show this little light why aren't you afraid to show a brighter light?" asked the observing reporter.
Alan answered him.
"We are only afraid because it might draw an attack from some observer. Balloonists are never safe from meddlesome persons or worse. But there isn't the same danger if the light isn't on the balloon."
"Sure," said Bob. "I understand that. But you can't hold it very far away."