Tom said nothing. He was measuring, with, his eye, the distance
the balloon had yet to go and also the distance away the motor-
boat was from where it would probably land.
"He can do it!" exclaimed the young inventor.
"How?" asked his father.
For answer Tom caught up a newspaper he had purchased at the hotel
that morning. Rolling it quickly into a cone, so that it formed a
rough megaphone, he put the smaller end to his mouth, and,
pointing the larger opening at the balloonist, he called out:
"Drop into the lake! We'll pick you up before the bag falls on
you! Jump! Let go now!"
The balloonist heard and understood. So did Ned and Mr. Swift.
Tom's quick wit had found a way to save the man.
Faster and faster the blazing bag settled toward the surface of
the water. It was now merely a mushroom-shaped piece of burning
and smoking canvas, yet it was supporting the man almost as a
parachute would have done.
With one look upward to the burning mass above him and a glance
downward to the lake, the aeronaut let go his hold. Like a shot
he came down, holding his body rigid and straight as a stick, for
he knew how to fall into water, did that balloonist.
Tom Swift was ready for him. No sooner had the lad called his
directions through the megaphone than the young inventor had
speeded up his engine to the top notch.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173