The balloon was tugging at his hand. When the tug had grown strong he snapped on a rubber band, withdrew the retort, tied the balloon to a round of the chair and was at once busy with a second balloon.
When all three balloons were bobbing about outside the window he breathed a sigh of relief.
Attaching a spool of fine wire to a silk cord which was tied to all three balloons, he allowed the balloons to rise while he played out two strands of wire. Having reached the second spool he allowed the fine copper wire aerial which he had thus made to rise with the balloons until they had reached a height of three hundred feet.
A fine, insulated copper wire ran from the aerial to the ground. This he attached to an instrument in his belt. Having tuned in on 200 he sat down calmly to repeat in a low tone at regular intervals:
“S. O. S.—S. O. S.—S. O. S.”
It was the only way he had been able to think of for letting the world know he was in trouble.
It brought results, for soon to his waiting ears came a gruff grumble which resembled the growl of a bear disturbed from his slumber:
“Hey! What’s the rumpus? What do you want?”
“Who are you?” Curlie whispered back.
“Deputy Marshal McDonald of the U. S. Station at Sinizols. Who the blazes are you?”