He handed them to the fortune-hunter, who came running back
with the rubber gloves. Mr. Damon was no more than half way to
the power house, which was quite a distance from the Swift
homestead. Meanwhile Tom's airship was slipping more and more,
and a thick, pungent smoke now surrounded it, coming from the
burning insulation. The sparks and electrical flames were worse
than ever.

"Just a moment now, and I'll have you safe!" cried the fortune-
hunter, as he again mounted the ladder. Luckily the charged wire
was near enough to be reached by going nearly to the top of the
ladder.

Holding the pincers in his rubber-gloved hands, the old man
quickly snipped the wire. There was a flash of sparks as the
copper conductor was severed, and then the shower of sparks about
Tom's airship ceased.

In another second he had turned on full power, the propellers
whizzed with the quickness of light, and he rose in the air, off
the shed roof, the live wire no longer entangling him. Then he
made a short circuit of the work-shop yard, and came to the
ground safely a little distance from the balloon hangar.

"Saved! Tom is saved!" cried Mr. Swift, who had seen the act of
Mr. Peterson from a distance. "He saved my boy's life!"

"Thanks, Mr. Peterson!" exclaimed the young inventor, as he
left his seat and walked up to the fortune-hunter. "You certainly