Mr. Hawkins' Humorous Adventures Part 7

"Stop it! Stop it, Hawkins!" I cried. "You're smas.h.i.+ng the wires!"

"Well, suppose I am? That'll let us out, won't it?"

"See here," I said, sternly, "if an all wise Providence should happen to spare us from being dragged down and dashed to pieces, consider the bill for repairs which you'll have to foot. You stop that engine, Hawkins, or I'll do it myself."

"Well----" said the inventor, doubtfully. "There! Now be satisfied. I've stopped it, and we'll wait and be taken down the ladder like a couple of confounded Italian women in a tenement house fire."

Hawkins sat back with a sullen scowl. I drew a long breath of relief, and began to scan the landscape for signs of the hook and ladder company.

They were a long time in coming. Meanwhile, we were hanging in s.p.a.ce, a frisky balloon overhead, and below, Hawkins' engine having considerately 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!"

"And presently, Hawkins, we shall break the wires and drop?" I suggested, with forced calm.

"Yes, yes!" cried the inventor. "What'll we do, Griggs, what'll we do?"

Frightened as I was, I couldn't see what was to be gained by hysterics.

"I presume," I said, "that the best thing is to sit still and wait for the end."

"Yes, but think, man, think of that awful drop! Forty feet, if it's an inch!"

"Fully."

"Why, we'll simply be knocked to flinders!"

"Probably."

"Oh, the idiots! The idiots!" raged Hawkins, shaking his fists at the crowd. "Why didn't they bring a fire net? Why hasn't one of them sense enough to get one? We could jump then."

Ping! The first of the six wires had snapped.

Ping! The second had followed suit.

The Hawkins Auto-aero-mobile was very delicately balanced now on four slim wires, and the balloon was collapsing with heart-rending rapidity.

From below sounds of excitement were audible, here and there a groan and now a scream of horror, as some new-comer realized our position.

"Hawkins," I said, solemnly, "why don't you make a vow right now that if we ever get out of this alive----"

Ping! went the third wire. The auto swayed gently for a moment.

"You'll never invent another thing as long as you live?"

"Griggs," said Hawkins, in trembling tones, "I almost believe that you are right. Where on earth can that hook and ladder be? Yes, you are right. I'll do--I'll--can you see them yet, Griggs? I'll do it! I swear----"

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Still sitting upon the cus.h.i.+ons, I felt my heart literally leap into my throat. My eyes closed before a sudden rush of wind. My hands gripped out wildly.

For one infinitesimal second, I was astonished at the deathly stillness of everything. Then the roar of a thousand voices nearly deafened me, the seat seemed to hurl me violently into the air, for another brief instant I shot through s.p.a.ce. Then my hands clutched some one's hair, and I crashed to the ground, with an obliging stout man underneath.

And I knew that I still lived!

Well, the auto had dropped--that was all. Ready hands placed me upon my feet. Vaguely I realized that Dr. Brotherton, our physician, was running his fingers rapidly over my anatomy.

Later he addressed me through a dreamland haze and said that not a bone was broken. I recall giving him a foolish smile and thanking him politely.

Some twenty feet away I was conscious that Hawkins was chattering volubly to a crowd of eager faces. His own features were bruised almost beyond recognition, but he, too, was evidently on this side of the River Jordan, and I felt a faint sense of irritation that the Auto-aero-mobile hadn't made an end of him.

My wits must have remained some time aloft for a last inspection of the spot where ended our aerial flight. Certainly they did not wholly return until I found myself sitting beside Hawkins in Brotherton's carriage.

We were just driving past a pile of red sc.r.a.p-metal that had once been the auto, and the wondering crowd was parting to let us through.

"Well, that's the end of your aerothingamajig, Hawkins," I observed, with deep satisfaction.

"Oh, yes, experience is expensive, but a great teacher," replied the inventor, thickly, removing a wet cloth from his much lacerated upper lip to permit speech. "When I build the next one----"

"You'll have to get a divorce before you build the next one," I added, with still deeper satisfaction, as I pictured in imagination the lively little domestic fracas that awaited Hawkins.

If his excellent lady gets wind of the doings in his "workshop," Hawkins rarely invents the same thing twice.

"Well, then, if I build another," corrected Hawkins, sobering suddenly, "I shall be careful not to use that rear arrangement at all. I shall place the valve of the balloon where I can get at it more easily. I shall----"

"Mr. Hawkins," said Brotherton, abruptly, "I thought I asked you to keep that cloth over your mouth until I get you where I can sew up that lip."

Apart from any medical bearing, it struck me that that remark indicated good, sound sense on Brotherton's part.

CHAPTER IV.