Hugh led the van, with Billy a close second, while Bud kept pretty close at the latter’s heels. And in this manner they arrived at the place where the remains of the wrecked balloon lay in a great pile.
“Get busy, everybody!” called the patrol leader excitedly. “He might be smothered if he lay under that stuff long, with its smell of gas!”
“Whew! isn’t it rank, though?” gasped Billy, as he tugged away at the folds of the heavy silk gas envelope, and fell several times while struggling to lift more than his share of the burden.
Then Bud arrived to lend his assistance; and the way those three boys struggled to turn the entire mass over was worth seeing. Arthur was struck with the possibilities for a new picture as he saw them fighting with the remnants of the once great balloon; and obedient to his instinct, he halted and busied himself getting the proper focus.
The “click” of his camera told Hugh what had happened; but just then he made a discovery that put both Arthur and his propensity for securing “worth-while” pictures out of his mind.
As he feverishly worked alongside the other two scouts, Hugh had expected at any second to uncover the white face of the aeronaut, lying there where he might have fainted at receiving such hard treatment. And the patrol leader had kept his jaws set very tight, so that he might be prepared for any pitiful sight.
His surprise had rapidly grown as they had neared the end of the pile of crumpled silk, and without discovering the first sign of a human being.
“Why, Hugh, he isn’t here, after all!” cried Billy, in what must be confessed was a relieved tone of voice, as though he, too, might have been dreading what they might presently uncover.
“We all of us got fooled, that’s what!” added Bud, trying to laugh, though the effort sounded a bit hysterical.
“What’s all that?” demanded Arthur, who had arrived just in time to hear this last remark.