had been brought along in case of emergencies. With the Red Cloud now lazily floating in the air, for, once the falling motion had been checked by the engine, the motor had been stopped again, Mr. Sharp set about restoring Mr. Damon to consciousness.
It was not long before the man opened his eyes. The color that had left his cheeks came back, and, after a drink of cold water he was able to sit up.
"Did I fall?" he asked. "Bless my very existence, but did I tumble off the airship?"
"No indeed," replied Tom, "though you came pretty near it. How do you feel? Were you hurt?"
"Oh, I'm all right now—just a trifle dizzy. But I thought sure I was a goner when I fell over the platform railing," and Mr. Damon could not repress a shudder. Mr. Sharp administered some more medicine and his patient was soon able to stand, and move about.
"How did it happen?" inquired the balloonist.
"I hardly know," answered Mr. Damon. "I was out on the platform, looking at the view, and thinking how much better my neuralgia was, with the scarf on. Suddenly the wind whipped loose one end of the scarf, and, before I knew it the cloth had caught on the propeller blade. I was
