The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1911-05-04
loon was getting higher and higher.

Finally, twisting MS nead around,
Scanion says that they were fully
500 feet high and that drop meant
instant death. He could see the
crowd standing almost as he had left
it, scarcely making a sound, all faces
tense and set, silent watchers Of the
struggle for life in mid air.
A Single Chance of Escape.
Suddenly the man gave lunge
and flung an arm over the bar, then
in spite of all that Scanion could do
he swung back and hooked a knee
over it, like an acrobat in show.
Scanion looked down into the
mans face. It was wrinkled into
lines Of fear and determination. His
eyes were wide open and staring, but
afraid to look down. There was not
the slightest sign Of drunkenness
about the face, the terrible struggle
had completely cleared his mind.
Scanion could see that the man was
possessed of but one idea and that
was to hold madly to the swinging
bar. His whole strength and his
whole mind were set on carrying
this out.
AS Scanion looked down at the
man he turned over every possible
chance of escape.
To drop meant destruction. The
parachute was built to carry only one
man. Possibly one of them might
go down in the parachute and the
other ride the balloon down by
waiting till the night air chilled the
gas. It was straw, but worth seiz-
ing.
"All right, it's too late for you to
drop off now," said Scanion grufly.
"Swing yourself up on this bar"
The man looked up at him more
like a wild animal than human be-
ing, like a dog trying to understand
just what his master means. So
firmly fixed in his mind was the idea
that he must cling to the bar, that
he could not comprehend what Scan
ion meant.
"Climb down, damn you!" growled
Scanion. We've got to stick it out
together
The light of understanding broke
into the mans eyes, and with rigid,
trembling muscles he drew himself
up on the bar and wound his arm
around the sporting rope. The two
sat crowded shoulder to shoulder,
facing, with scarcely enough room to
move.
Don't hurt me-" whined the man,
speaking for the first time.
"Shut up and don't shake the bal
loon," snapped Scanion.
The man kept his eyes on Scanion,
afraid to look toward the earth. ''1s
it very-very far?"
you'll think so going down, y
Scanion shot back.
The Fight for Life.
The man whimpered and shrank
against the rope without looking
down.
"What are you going to do about
it," demanded Scanion, taking the
chance to punish the intruder. The
danger now did not seem so immi-
nent, and so Scanion was bound to
impress on the man what he had
done.
The man whimpered and shrank
away from the aeronaut. The fight
was gone out of him; he dreaded the
upbraiding more than the kicking.
"What made you do it," demand
ed Scanion.
"I thought don't know"
A slight ripping sound over their
heads. Scanion became electrified,
but to the unwelcomed passenger it
meant nothing. Scanion glanced up.
His worst fears were confirmed.
One of the ropes fastening to the
side of the balloon and supporting
the parachute had ripped down a
few inches and the gas and smoke
were pouring out. The bar rocked
back and forth again and the rent
enlarged. In a moment it might
tear larger and the two would go
rocking swiftly downward.
The only chance for safety was for
one of them to go in the parachute
and self-preservation is the first
law of nature.
Don't rock the balloon" shouted
Scanion fiercely, although the man
was sitting quietly enough. The man
said nothing.
"Why don't you look downward"
demanded scanion with all the fierce
ness that fighting for ones life
brings up in one.