great agony of fear, as well as
in great pain from the terrific heat over his head was evident. He
shifted about on the trapeze bar, now hanging by one hand, so as to
bring his body a little farther below the blazing end of the bag, then,
when one arm tired, he would hang by the other. If the balloon would
only come down more quickly it would get to within such a short
distance of the water that the man could safely make the drop. But the
immense canvas bag was settling so slowly, for it was still very
buoyant, that considerable time must elapse before it would be near
enough to the water to make it safe for the unfortunate man to let go
the trapeze.

"Oh, if we could only do something!" cried Tom. "We have to remain
here helpless and watch him burn to death. It's awful!"

The three in the boat continued to gaze upward. They could see the man
making frantic efforts to reach his parachute from time to time. Once,
as a little current of air blew the flames and smoke to one side, he
thought he had a chance. Up on the trapeze bar he pulled himself and
then edged along it in an endeavor to grasp the ring of the parachute.
Once he almost had hold of that and also the cord, which ran to a knife
blade. This cord, being pulled, would sever the rope that bound it to
the balloon, and he would be comparatively safe, so he might drop to
the lake. But, just as he was about to grasp the ring and cord the
smoke came swirling down on him and the hungry flames seemed to put out
their fiery tongues to devour him. He had to slide back and once more
hung by his hands.

"I thought he was saved then," whispered Tom, and even the whisper
sounded loud in the silence.

Several men came running along the shore of the lake now. They saw the
occupants in the ARROW and cried out:

"Why don't you save him? Go to his rescue!"

"What can we do?" asked Ned quietly of his two friends, but he did not
trouble to answer the men on shore, who probably did not know what they
were saying.

The motor-boat had drifted from a spot under the unfortunate
balloonist, and at a word from his father the young inventor started
the engine and steered the craft back directly under the blazing bag
again.

"If he does drop, perhaps we may be able to pick him up," said Mr.
Swift. "I wish we could save him!"

A cry from Ned startled Tom and his father, and their eyes, that had
momentarily been directed away from the burning bag high in the air,
were ag