left a little of the telegraph company's property uninjured, six telegraph
wires and a gaping crowd.

But the ladders couldn't be very far off now, and we seemed safe enough,
until--

"What's that sizzling, Hawkins?" I inquired.

"I don't know," he replied, gruffly.

"Well, why don't you try to find out?" I said, sharply. "It seems to me
that we're resting pretty heavily on those wires."

"Indeed?"

"Yes." I glanced out at the balloon canopy. "Great Scott, Hawkins, the
balloon's leaking!"

"Eh? What?" he cried, suddenly galvanized
into action. "Where, Griggs,
where?"

"I don't know. But that's what is happening. See how the wires are sagging
--more and more every second."

"Great Cesar's ghost! Listen. Yes, the wires must have hit the escape
valve. Why, the gas is simply pouring out of the balloon. And the
machine's getting heavier and heavier. And we're just resting on those
six wires, Griggs! Oh, Lord!"