Clifford seized the rope delightedly.
Starley sprang back into the open space underneath the balloon. The balloon had no car, only a trapeze. On this Starley seated himself, holding the side ropes tight with both hands. The parachute, Clifford noticed, was fastened up against the side of the balloon.
"Now, gentlemen, when I give the word I want you all to release the cords at the same instant. The wind makes——"
At that very moment came such a gust that Starley's speech was cut short. The balloon came whirling over almost on top of Clifford, and two men who had hold of the same rope let go and sprang out of the way with shouts of alarm.
"Cowards!" muttered Clifford, holding on tighter than ever.
He knew nothing whatever of the lifting power of a balloon. Next instant as the gust passed the balloon came back with a jerk to the perpendicular, and Clifford was swung completely off his feet.
Before he could realize what had happened or make up his mind to let go he was far above the heads of the crowd.
From the whole fair ground rose an extraordinary sound—a deep groan. It was this that first made the boy realize the extreme peril of his position.
Nineteen boys out of twenty finding themselves dangling at the end of a rope in mid-air would have let go at once, and, of course, been smashed to atoms. Clifford happened to be the twentieth. The first thing he did was to crook his right leg in the rope, the second to shut his eyes in order to arrest the horrible dizziness which made his head swim like seasickness.
The next thing he was conscious of was a quiet voice from above.