ed Mr. Peterson.

"But you can't, without pliers and rubber gloves!" yelled Tom. "Keep
away, I tell you!"

The man on the ladder hesitated. Evidently he had not thought of the
necessity of protecting his hands by rubber covering, in order that the
electricity might be made harmless. He backed down to the ground.

"I saw a pair of old gloves in the shed!" he cried. "I'll get
them--they look like rubber."

"They are!" cried Tom, remembering now that he had been putting up a
new wire that day, and had left his rubber gloves there. "But you
haven't any pliers!" the lad went. "How can you cut wire without them?
There's a pair in the shop, but--"

"Heah dey be! Heah dey be!" cried Eradicate, as he produced a heavy
pair from his pocket. "I--I couldn't find de can-opener fo' Mrs.
Baggert, an' I jest got yo' pliers, Massa Tom. Oh, how glad I is dat I
did. Here's de pincers, Massa Peterson."

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 did me a good
turn then. It was touch and go! I couldn't have stayed there many
seconds longer. Next time I'll know better than to fly with a wireless
trailer over a live conductor," and he held out his