nd Bushnell will be able to follow it, if we succeed in
reaching the palace and returning alive."

The professor entreated Frank to change his mind, but the lad was
determined, and nothing could alter that determination.

At last Scotch gave up in despair, groaning:

"If you stay, I stay. I am your guardian, but you seem to have things
all your own way. If this volcano cooks us all, you will be to blame for
it."

Frank said no word, but went about the task of assisting Bushnell in the
work of inflating the balloon.

The Westerner had a "gas generator," which he was getting in order. As
soon as this was ready, the balloon was unrolled, spread out, drawn up
by means of poles and lines, and then secured to the ground by one stout
rope, which was hitched about the base of a great bowlder.

Then Bushnell built a fire and set the "gas generator" at work.

In the meantime the volcano had continued to mutter. At intervals the
clouds of smoke parted, and they saw the wonderful Silver Palace
standing on a plateau beyond the chasm.

The palace seemed to cast a spell over them all, and they felt the fever
of the gold-hunter beginning to burn in their throbbing veins.

It was more than an hour after their arrival that the balloon began to
fill with gas and Frank uttered a cheer as he saw the silk bulging like
a bladder that is inflated with wind.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Bushnell, wildly. "In a few minutes we'll go sailin'
over ther gulf, right through ther smoke, ter ther Silver Palace. Ha,
ha, ha!"

The man's face was flushed till it was nearly purple, and his eyes were
bloodshot. The fever had fastened itself firmly upon him.

More and more did the balloon expand. Bushnell had brought out a folding
car, which he securely attached.

"In ten minutes more we'll be ready for the trip!" he shouted.

At that instant a series of wild cries reached their ears, and, turning
swiftly, they saw a band of dark-faced men pouring through a fissure in
the rocks to the north of them.

"Shimminy Gristmas!" cried Hans Dunnerwust, in terror. "Dot seddles us!"

"Who is it? Who are they?" fluttered the professor.

"They look like bandits," acknowledged Frank.

"It is Pacheco's band!" cried Bushnell, hastily securing his rifle.
"Ther pizen varmints hev come ten minutes too soon! Ther balloon would
take us all over in another ten minutes, but now it won't carry more
than two. We must hold ther skunks off till she fills."

"Right!" shout