Swift called out to the young lady encouragingly: "Hold out a little while longer and you'll be safe!" "I'm all right now, since you have come." The young woman's trembling voice seemed to lay an actual emphasis on "you" that Swift was selfish enough to take to himself. "How long have you been there?" "Five days. I am nearly dead!" "Poor, poor thing!" said Swift to himself. Tears of sympathy came into his eyes. Even Mr. Ticks blinked. "She's office editor on some Russell daily," said Mr. Ticks after another long look through the field glasses. "How do you know?" asked Swift in displeasure. "She's got a stylograph behind her right ear and a yellow pad in her lap; besides, there are some clippings at the bottom of the boat." By this time Professor Ariel had reached the lower end of his ladder. "Now, catch!" he cried, hurling the light rope with sure skill. It whistled through the air and the end fell across the boat. "Make fast to something, quick, now!" As he spoke he felt a breath of air upon his face. The balloon careened over slightly and righted itself. The _High Tariff_ was slowly settling to the water's surface. As quickly as he could the professor pulled the boat toward him. "You can't. It's anchored," cried the girl. She tugged at the rope with the last strength of hope, and actually brought it up. The skiff yielded to the professor's clutch. By this time the balloon was so low down that the aeronaut's feet were nearly in the water. "Throw out sand by the handful!" he ordered. This gentle lighting kept her at the right elevation. Now the professor touched the boat. He jumped in. "Don't talk!" he cried, "hold out your arms instead!" He knotted the rope underneath her arms and tied the other end firmly to the ladder. "We've got to hurry. Now, Miss! you keep cool, and we'll save you all right." It was a desperate chance. "Now let go a couple of sandbags!" the order came up to Swift in the car. Mr. Statis Ticks, with his hand upon the safety-valve, and hearing the order, became, for the first time in his life, confused. He pulled the safety-valve wide open, and the gas rushed furiously out. Even with the two sandbags overboard and lightened of fifty pounds dead weight, the balloon descended suddenly. The professor saw the mistake at a glance. He yelled furiously: "Good God! Close that valve or we're lost!" But the mischief was already done. "Heave it all out!" shrieked the professor, climbing up the ladder like a cat. The car of the balloon grazed the side of the boat. Mr. Statis Ticks, in such atonement as he could make for his awful error, reached over his thin arms. The girl arose, tottering to her feet, and, with a mighty effort, the gray, gaunt man lifted the heavy girl into the car. That was the most humane, and, at the same time, the maddest thing he could have done. Under the influence of the added weight the car struck the boat, over-turned it, and then dragged in the water.