The Argosy, March 1907 — page 187: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee heen a ee ee a oe ae SS SS ea tad -- . the slightest doubt in their minds that BE the rustic had been hurled from the’ bal- loon to instant death. His bruised body , would be found by somebody when day- et light came. ee As for the balloon, that, of course, had gone out to sea, just as it was pre- _. paring to do when they decided to come +. down, for, like all sensible aeronauts, they preferred to land on the hard earth rather than the yielding water. nae There was nothing they could do for - the victim of the mishap. He was dead, somewhere, and they had already done all that was humanly possible. There remained themselves, and it occurred to them that they might have an awkward time of it explaining the circumstances | if they were discovered in proximity to - the rustic’s body. 7 The best evidence of their innocence— the balleon—was gone. There might be no end of trouble for them if the farm- ers round about were ignorant or super- stitious, or if they had prejudices against balloons, as was sometimes the case. In short, the aeronauts decided that 7 the best thing for them to do was to de- part quietly—unobserved, if possible— _ and say nothing. If they should hap- pen ‘to meet anybody, they would make a frank statement of the truth, but if they did not, they would not invite = trouble by volunteering what would seem aes to many like an incredible tale. | $0 they gathered up all the small = articles that had fallen with them from - the balloon and limped away, leaving i as evidence of the adventure only broken bushes and a few doubtful marks on the turf. As luck would have it, they came to a road at a considerable distance from = the nearest house, and trudged over it Rap for several miles without meeting any- body. ° Then they arrived at a town where there was a railway station, and the last train Cityward took them away from their supposed danger and left the Cran- ville mystery to work itself out as it might. While they were still unconscious, Fuller was having the time of his life ee SK It is surely no discredit to his warlike es = - spirit that he was scared half to death, ee _ Clinging to the rope and looking down and around, he saw the twinkling of a = < 1 RR WHAT BECAME OF TOM FULLER. few lights to the southward and knew that there lay Cranville. Directly be- low was simply a dark blur that grew darker and more blurred with Oey. passing second. Manifestly, the balloon was still rising, and the-only comfort in that fact lay. in the unlikelihood that he would get banged out of shape against a tree- top or a church-steeple. But his fingers felt stiff, and his arms * began to ache. How long could he hang thus to a rope, he whose previous experience with the article was limited to hauling Torrent No. 1 to exhibition or competitive playing, for Cranville never bothered its volunteer department with a real fire? Fuller had no thought of dropping | _ and taking his chances with the ground, * which seemed, in the darkness, farther away than it probably was, but he feared that in course of time his drop would be involuntary. Therefore, he concluded that he would be much better off in the. ° basket, if only he could get there; and as he had recovered from the first panic ~ incidental to discovery of his plight, he reasoned that if he was to attain the basket he should try now, before his muscles became so exhausted that he could not climb an inch. So he cautiously squirmed his way up the rope. It was slow work, but he found that he could rest from time to time by gripping the coil with his leg and winding one arm at a time in an- other coil. At length he touched the basket. Then his heart stood still. Up to this point he had been surprised and encour- aged by the remarkable steadiness of his conveyance, but when he realized that the men who had been in it must have been dumped out he feared that the basket, if he put his weight to one side, would spill him, also. - But that was only one of two rea- sons for the temporary suspension of his heart. ‘The other was a sound that came up from below—a melancholy rustling, now loud, now dying away to rise again almost to a roar.— The surf! Fuller. was flying out to sea! The terror of it gave him the courage and strength of desperation, and he at- tempted what, perhaps, otherwise he Eomicbooks.¢co ‘ m ‘?