ing found
they had covered about a hundred miles, not having run the ship to
anything like its maximum speed. Breakfast was served above the clouds,
for a change, Mr. Damon finding that he could stand the great height
with comfort.

It was three days after the start, and the travelers were proceeding
slowly along. They were totally unaware, of course, of the sensation
which their leaving, conjointly with the bank robbery, had caused, not
only in Shopton but in other places.

"We're over a good-sized city," announced Tom, on the noon of the third
day. "Suppose we drop down, and leave some message? Dad will be anxious
to hear from us."

"Good idea," commented Mr. Sharp. "Down it is. Shift the rudder."

Tom proceeded to do so, and, while Mr. Damon relieved him at the wheel
the young inventor prepared a message to his father. It was placed in a
weighted envelope, together with a sum of money, and the person picking
it up was requested to send the letter as a telegram, retaining some
money for his trouble.

As the ship got lower and lower over the city the usual crowds could be
seen congregating in the streets, pointing and gazing upward.

"We're creating quite a stir," observed Tom.

"More than usual, it seems," added Mr. Sharp, peering down. "I declare,
there seems to be a police parade under way."

"That's right," put in Mr. Damon, for, looking down, a squad of
uniformed officers, some on horseback, could be seen hurrying along the
main street, trying to keep pace with the airship, which was moving
slowly.

"They're looking at us through telescopes," called Tom. "Guess they
never saw a balloon down this way."

Nearer and nearer to the city dropped the Red Cloud. Tom was about to
let go the weighted envelope, when, from the midst of the police came
several puffs of white smoke. It was followed by vicious, zipping
sounds about the cabin of the ship, the windows of which were open.
Then came the reports of several rifles.

"They're firing at us!" yelled Tom.

"So they are!" cried Mr. Sharp. "They must be crazy! Can't they see
that we're not a bird."

"Maybe they take us for a war balloon," suggested Mr. Damon.

Another volley was directed at the airship, and several bullets struck
the big aluminum gas holder glancing blows.

"Here! Quit that!" yelled Tom, leaning out of the window. "Are you
crazy? You'll damage us!"

"They can't hear you," called Mr. Sharp.

A third volley was fired, and this time seve