“No doctor for me,” answered the balloonist.  “I’ve been in lots of tight places, but this was the worst squeeze.  If you’ll put me ashore, I guess I can manage now.”

“But you’re all wet,” objected Tom.  “Where will you go?  You need some other clothes,” for the man wore a suit of tights and spangles.

“Oh, I’m used to this,” went on the performer.  “I frequently have to fall in the water.  I always carry a little money with me so as to get back to the place where I started from.  By the way, where am I?”

“Opposite Daleton,” answered Tom.  “Where did you go up from?”

“Pratonia.  Big fair there.  I was one of the features.”

“Then you’re about fifteen miles away,” commented Mr. Swift.  “You can hardly get back before night.  Must you go there?”

“Left my clothes there.  Also a valuable gas balloon.  No more hot-air ones for me.  Guess I’d better go back,” and the aeronaut continued to speak in his quick, jerky sentences.

“We’d be very glad to have you come with us, Mr. Sharp,” went on the inventor.  “We are not far from Shopton, and if you would like to remain over night I’m sure we would make you comfortable.  You can proceed to Pratonia in the morning.”

“Thanks.  Might not be a bad idea,” said Mr. Sharp.  “I’m obliged to you.  I’ve got to go there to collect my money, though I suppose they won’t give it all to me.”

“Why not?” demanded Ned.

“Didn’t drop from my parachute.  Couldn’t.  Fire was one reason—­ couldn’t reach the parachute, and if I could have, guess it wouldn’t have been safe.  Parachute probably was burned too.  But I’m done with hot-air balloons though I guess I said that before.”

The boys were much interested in the somewhat odd performer, and, on his part, he seemed to take quite a notion to Tom, who told him of several things that he had invented.  “Well,” remarked Mr. Swift after a while, during which the boat had been moving slowly down the lake, “if we are not to go ashore for a doctor for you, Mr. Sharp, suppose we put on more speed and get to my home?  I’m anxious about a robbery that occurred there,” and he related some facts in the case.

“Speed her up!” exclaimed Mr. Sharp.  “Wish I could help you catch the scoundrels, but afraid I can’t—­hands too sore,” and he looked at his burns.  Then he told how he had made the ascension from the Pratonia fair grounds and how, when he was high in the air, he had discovered that the balloon was on fire.  He described his sensations and told how he thought his time had surely come.  Sparks from the hot air used to inflate it probably caused the blaze, he said.

“I’ve made a number of trips,” he concluded, “hot air and gas bags, but this was the worst ever.  It got on my nerves for a few minutes,” he added coolly.

“I should think it would,” agreed Tom as he speeded up the motor and sent the arrow on her homeward way.