"From the way things look now," observed their newly found friend grimly, "we'll all see Berlin pretty soon, and we won't have to go up in balloons to see it, either."
"Right you are!" acquiesced Bart. "And I'd be one happy little soldier if I knew that we were going to start to-morrow."
While the foregoing dialogue had been going on Frank had been taking in the view, but now he turned to the observer.
"Seems to me it looks pretty black over in the west," he remarked.
"I think we're going to have a storm."
The observer glanced quickly in the direction indicated, and then jumped for his telephone.
"Pull her down, Dan!" he called. "Pull her down quick! There's a big storm coming our way, and coming mighty fast, too."
The boys could feel the tug of the cable as it tightened in response to the starting of the windlass, but before the balloon had descended a hundred feet the storm was upon them. A mighty blast roared about the frail balloon, jerking it here and there in such a violent manner that the boys were nearly thrown out. The captive balloon tore madly at its moorings, and seemed like some wild thing struggling to be free.
"We're in for it now," yelled Dunton, the observer. "She won't stand much more of this, and if she breaks away, it's the parachutes for us."
Even as he spoke a specially vicious blast tore madly at the balloon, and the occupants heard a ripping, tearing sound. A second later the big "sausage" leaped upward, and the boys did not need to be told that it had broken free from its moorings.
"Get hold of the parachutes!" yelled Dunton, "but don't jump yet. This wind is too strong, but if it dies down a little we'll have to risk it."