His brother, a balloonist of national reputation, had been visiting him recently, and on account of some sickness at the house, had taken a room at the hotel.

“But no sane man could sleep through all this beastly row; and sure we haven’t seen any one at the windows, have we, boys?” went on the fat hotel man.

“But you don’t understand.  I tell you he has been unable to sleep for several nights, and just before he left me early to-night he took a sleeping powder that he said would make him dead to the world for eight hours!  He’s up in his room yet, and will be lost unless some one goes and drags him out!” cried Mr. Smythe.

“Which is his room, Mr. Ten Eyck?” demanded an eager voice.

The stout hotel man looked at the speaker, who was none other than Jerry.

“You see that window over there at the end of the house, third floor—­that’s his room!  But the stairs must be ablaze by now, boy!  It would be suicide to think of trying to go up there!” he cried.

“Come on, Frank; we’ll take a look in, anyhow!” shouted Jerry as he dashed off, followed by his chum, equally excited.

Still, Frank was ordinarily a cool-headed fellow, and accustomed to weighing chances somewhat before imperiling his life.  In this case, of course, he knew that more or less risk must be taken if they hoped to save the sleeping balloonist.

One look they took in at the front door.  The whole place was ablaze.

“Get out of the way, boys; we’re going to put the hose in there!” cried one of the wearers of the fire-hats and coats, as he advanced.

“No chance there!” exclaimed Frank, in despair, as he moved back.

Jerry clutched his arm.

“Come along with me.  Perhaps the back stairs may not be burning, yet.  They happen to be further along toward the safe side.  There’s a chance!” he panted.

Half a minute later they had turned the corner, and were close to the rear exit.

“See, the smoke is coming out, but no fire.  Shall we risk it?” asked the eager Jerry.

Frank swept a quick look above and around.  He was weighing the thing in his mind, so that they might not be carried by impulse to their doom.

“It’s worth while.  At the worst we can jump into that tree from the window.  And it’s just terrible to think of the professor sleeping on until he is caught.  Lead the way, Jerry; you know about it better than I do.  Remember, on the third floor, and turn to the left!”

They darted in.  Several persons near by shouted warnings, but the words fell on deaf ears, for already the daring lads were rushing up the narrow stairs.  Around them the smoke was dense.  It smarted their eyes dreadfully, so that they were compelled to rub them from time to time in order to see at all.

Reaching the first landing, Jerry turned to the left.  Frank had hold of his chum’s coat, for he did not want to get lost in that smoky interior, and Jerry was the one acquainted with the situation.