satisfaction from it--just getting warmed up and preparing to take
some meteorological observations--when Jones became so very anxious to
quit that I didn't like to refuse, although it went fearfully against
the grain for the reason that I hated to give up and abandon my
scientific investigations.

"So I threw out my coat and boots, and made the other fellows do the
same, and we rose above the trees and sailed along splendidly until we
struck the river. Then she suddenly dodged down, and the edge of the
car caught in the water; so the wind took her, and we went scudding
along like lightning, nearly drowned. Conly was washed overboard, and
that lightened her, so she went up again. I was for staying up, but
Jones said he'd die if he didn't get out soon; and besides, he thought
we ought to look after Conly. But I said Conly was probably drowned,
anyhow, so it was hardly worth while to sacrifice our experiments on
that account; and I told Jones that a man of his intelligence ought to
be willing to endure something for the sake of scientific truth. And
Jones said, 'Hang scientific truth!'--actually made that remark; and
he said that if I didn't let him out he'd jump out. He was sick, you
know. The man was not himself, or he would never have talked in that
way about a voyage that was so full of interest and so likely to
reveal important secrets of nature.

"But to oblige him I at last got her down on the other side of the
river, and a farmer ran out and seized the rope. While we were talking
to him I was just telling him that, as the gas was running out of the
neck of the balloon, maybe he'd better put out his cigar, when all of
a sudden there was a terrific bang. The gas exploded and wrapped us in
a sheet of flame, and the next minute some of the neighbors picked up
me and Jones. Jones was roasted nearly to a crisp. Exciting, wasn't