Again Arthur “got busy” and made his arrangements. Hugh seldom offered any suggestion, for he saw that the other was better qualified to manage this thing than any of the rest. Once more they posed while the proper focus was being secured; and then Arthur injected himself into the group, gave the customary warning, and finally pressed the magic bulb that completed the circuit.
Since so much depended on getting a sure-shot of the queer shelter which Hugh had discovered, Arthur repeated the attempt once more; in case one exposure should have some mishap come to it, he could turn to the other. He had learned that in all important cases, where extra value is placed on a picture, it is a good thing to make doubly sure; because it is often utterly impossible to secure the same conditions twice, and a valuable opportunity may be lost.
After this, Hugh assumed charge of things. He was really anxious to try out several ideas of his own connected with cliff climbing, which had been one of the features of past contests in which the scouts had indulged to a limited degree. Now he believed he had hit on a series of experiments that would not only prove fascinating sport, but give them all considerable training in rope-climbing, as well as a knowledge of how Alpine guides manage to keep from falling when mounting dizzy heights.
Twenty minutes after taking the last picture, the four scouts were climbing the rugged mountainside. Far above them they could see the bare ridges of a higher peak, where many of their earlier outings had been conducted in the days when the troop was still young.
They were chattering like a flock of magpies, when Billy suddenly gave a cry of excitement. As before, those quick eyes of his had been roving to the right, to the left and straight ahead, always discovering new things.
“Oh! what in Sam Hill is that thing over yonder coming straight this way?” he yelled, clutching Hugh by the arm. “If I’d been reading ‘Baron Munchausen’ or ‘Sinbad the Sailor,’ I’d think it was a giant roc flying toward us; but it seems more like a battered old balloon dropping down to the ground.”
“It is a balloon,” said Hugh, after looking intently; “and I believe I can see a man in the swinging basket, waving his arms to us, as though he might have lost all control and wanted us to help save him!”
The other scouts were of the same mind when they had looked closer. It gave them a thrill to realize that all of a sudden, out of the clear sky, an opportunity had arisen whereby they might be of use to one in great peril.
CHAPTER V.
THE WRECKED BALLOON.
“It’s sinking right along, isn’t it, Hugh?” exclaimed Bud in an awed tone, as he kept his eyes fastened on the strange object that had so unexpectedly dawned upon their vision.