"Never," answered Bob, glad enough for a chance to say something.
"Have you any matches?" somewhat sternly asked the commander of the Cibola.
"Sure," replied Bob reaching in his pocket and finding one.
"Any more? All of them."
Surprised, Bob searched his clothes and discovered a few more which he obediently handed over to his superior officer. Noting the look of surprise in the reporter's face Ned laughed.
"The first rule in a balloon is 'No fire.' But beginners forget, sometimes; we can't take this chance with you."
"Take anything I have got," answered Bob with his old smile, which had now been in eclipse for some time, "and if I can speak at last I want to say that you boys are white, clean white, through and through. Didn't you need that ballast?"
"We may need it badly," said Ned, laughing. "If it should become necessary I suppose you won't mind if we throw you overboard."
"No," retorted Bob, "not if it is a little at, a time. But you're bricks—both of you—if I thank you I'll cry." The tears were again in his eyes.
"Well, it wasn't the thing to do, I suppose," said Ned turning away, "but you looked so hungry to go, and I knew what it meant. So I thought we'd just give you a little ride up to the camp."