"Talk to me about your fiery furnaces, that beats them all!" exclaimed Frank's chum, as he let go the professor's shoulders. "What shall we do now?"
Frank ran over to the window and threw up the sash. He looked out and then came back to where Jerry stood, trembling with excitement. Frank was as cool as ever in his life.
"There's a chance, Jerry," he shouted. "No fire below! Take hold here; tear up these sheets and knot them into a rope. Work for your life, and if the fire only holds back we may be able to save both the professor and ourselves! But work! work!"
CHAPTER III
HEADED SOUTH
They did work with a vim, for the smoke was getting more oppressive with each passing second; and from the glimpse they had taken of the stairway it was plain to the boys that presently the fire would wrap the whole south end of the building in its grip, when their case would indeed be desperate.
Each tore and knotted until as if by magic a long rope was fashioned. True, it might betray them at the last and break, but Frank believed the sheets to be of good material and nearly new.
He had not time to even test the frail rope, but fastened it around the sleeping balloonist, under his arms.
"Now help me lift him over the window-sill," he cried.
They had little difficulty in doing that, for the professor was a small, slight man. Once he was passed over the ledge, they began to lower away.