"Didn't drop from my parachute. Couldn't. Fire was one reason--
couldn't reach the parachute, and if I could have, guess it
wouldn't have been safe. Parachute probably was burned too. But
I'm done with hot-air balloons though I guess I said that before."
The boys were much interested in the somewhat odd performer,
and, on his part, he seemed to take quite a notion to Tom, who
told him of several things that he had invented. "Well,"
remarked Mr. Swift after a while, during which the boat had been
moving slowly down the lake, "if we are not to go ashore for a
doctor for you, Mr. Sharp, suppose we put on more speed and get
to my home? I'm anxious about a robbery that occurred there,"
and he related some facts in the case.
"Speed her up!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "Wish I could help you catch
the scoundrels, but afraid I can't--hands too sore," and he
looked at his burns. Then he told how he had made the ascension
from the Pratonia fair grounds and how, when he was high in the
air, he had discovered that the balloon was on fire. He described
his sensations and told how he thought his time had surely come.
Sparks from the hot air used to inflate it probably caused the
blaze, he said.
"I've made a number of trips," he concluded, "hot air and gas
bags, but this was the worst ever.
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