Part 19 (1/2)
The luncheon was hurried to a finish, for the boys could see that the bag needed final attention. It had risen higher and higher and was now swaying and tugging at the suspension ropes. Both boys alighted and at once began straightening the extension ropes. Here and there where the cordage net was out of place they pulled down the bag and adjusted the rigging. Finally a little after three o'clock, the great case had filled out until its smooth glistening sides resembled the skin of a fat sausage.
”All ready!” ordered Ned as he shut of the valve of the cooling and purifying box. ”Now, every man bear a hand.”
One at a time the extension cords were untied from the retaining bags, and each of the workmen was given four of the light but strong lines. The Mayor himself pa.s.sed among the men with stern injunctions to hold fast. As the last cord was loosed the great tugging bag was held wholly by the scared men. Then, with slow and measured steps, the double line of a.s.sistants advanced to the car and along each side of it.
”All steady,” commanded Ned when each man had been placed; ”now hang onto her.”
Then he and Alan, springing into the car, began the work of making it fast to the bag. There was a place marked for each of the extension ropes, and the air s.h.i.+p builders, beginning at each end of the car, carefully adjusted and tied the end of each rope to the frame of the s.h.i.+p. As the cords were taken from the attendants the men took hold of the lower framework of the car, and to make doubly sure each man was cautioned to throw his entire weight into the work.
At last the final rope was made fast, and three thousand pounds of human flesh and muscle were holding the tugging balloon. Ned, covered with perspiration, and nervous but happy, was hastily connecting the compensating balloon tube with the hand blower on the bridge, and Alan had run astern to tie the new national colors to the halyards swinging from the end of the bag.
”Hold on,” cried Ned seeing that Alan was ready to run up the stars and stripes. ”Just a moment. Are you all ready, Mr. Mayor?”
”All ready,” came the answer from the town official, as he stood on a box, his hat off and a revolver in his hand.
”With a western salute I christen this balloon the 'Cibola,'” he exclaimed, and a shot punctuated his speech. ”Good luck and goodbye!”
As the shot sounded Alan's flag ran fluttering upwards. Ned's eyes took one final look fore and aft and then he leaned over the car for the last words for which all were waiting.
They were on his lips and the eyes of twenty straining men were fixed on him to hear the command, ”Let go.” One nervous attendant, apparently thinking the order had been given, threw up his arms with a shout.
At that instant there was a second sharp pistol shot, and a quick cry from the street outside the corral.
”Hold on there, all of you!” shouted Ned. His dream had rushed back to him with a sickening chill. Had some one shot at the towering bag? ”Hold on!” he yelled.
At that moment there was another shout and Bob Russell, his face red with the sun and his s.h.i.+rt wet with perspiration, walked into the corral. In his right hand was gripped a revolver and in his left a repeating rifle. In front of him, and prodded on by Bob's pistol, was the Mexican, Domingo, Jack Jellup's tool and fellow thief.
CHAPTER XVIII
FREE AND AFLOAT AT LAST
This is what had happened.
At the time of the rain storm, two days before, Buck and his cavalcade were in camp on the bank of the dry Chusco, sixty miles north of Clarkeville. The experienced scout knew that a water supply was now a.s.sured, and he at once followed prearranged orders by instructing Bob to return with the smaller wagon. This was a sad blow to the young reporter, but it was a part of his contract and he knew that it was his duty to obey. And with necessity before him, he acted promptly. Emptying the heavy casks, Bob started on the back trail at five the following morning, and by night had made thirty miles with the light wagon. All day he wondered if it might not be possible to reach Clarkeville again before the Cibola sailed.
The next morning, spurred on by the hope that he might do this, he started at daybreak. By the middle of the morning he was on the old wagon trail and making better time. Some time after two o'clock he came up over the rise of the last foothills and saw, eight miles away, the glistening shape which he at once knew was the inflated balloon. He hesitated a moment and then, unhitching the horses, mounted one bareback and began a dash for the town. The animals were tired and worn, and progress was slow, but it beat walking, and Bob urged them on.
As the young reporter came nearer and the balloon grew more distinct he knew that it would be a close call. From time to time as the winded horses dropped into a walk Bob wondered why he was making such a race. ”I can't go with them,” he argued. But, like the trained reporter, be decided that no effort was wasted that gave him new information. And it was something out of the ordinary to see the most complete balloon ever made start on a mysterious flight into the wilderness.
So he spurred up the horses anew. The hot sun reflected from the yellow sands burnt his face and his muscles were sore, but he stuck to it. When half a mile from the town he could see the boys on the bridge of the Cibola. When a quarter of a mile away he decided that he could beat the horses by going afoot, and, throwing himself to the ground, he ran onward, knowing that the tired animals would follow. Out of breath he reached the edge of the town and stumbled on toward the corral.
With head down he plunged forward. Almost at his goal he threw his head up for breath just in time to notice a kneeling man with a rifle at his shoulder.
”Hey!” yelled Bob with what breath he had.
Then he saw that the man was aiming directly at the balloon swaying above the nearby corral fence. He also recognized the man instantly as one of the sullen court spectators, and Jellup's crony. The rifleman dropped the muzzle of his gun and turned.
”I guess I am something of a gun man,” explained Bob later to the boys, ”for I had that new revolver of mine on the 'greaser' before I knew what I was doing myself. I didn't even then realize what he was about to do. But I had the drop on him and when I figured out that he meant to put a hole in the balloon, why, I just had him right. And here he is.”