ader sought the lowest limb, and
drew himself up. He could feel the trunk of the bending tree straining
as it was twisted by the violence of each terrible blast; but undaunted
by this impending calamity Paul's only desire was to reach the side of
poor Nuthin before worse things happened to him than being carried away
with the balloon-like tent.

CHAPTER XXIX

A PANIC-STRICKEN CROWD

"Oh! Help! help!"

The cry reached Paul's ears between blasts of the howling wind; but he
never could have caught it had he not been so close to the wretched boy
who gave utterance to the appeal.

With every nerve strained to the utmost, the young patrol leader
continued to climb upward. He could see the tent flattened out like a
great pancake against the branches of the tree. It had opened as it
swept along, and the force of the gale had for the time being turned it
into a sort of balloon. This accounted for the carrying away of Nuthin,
who was a slender lad at best.

Paul found more or less difficulty in reaching a point where he could
come in contact with his comrade. Branches were in the way, and swayed
back and forth in a furious fashion as fresh gusts of wind caught them.

"I'm coming, Albert; hold out a little!" Paul shouted as he strained;
and it was perhaps strange that in such a period of excitement he
unconsciously used the real name of Cypher, something few people save
his parents and teachers did, when A. Cypher stood so handsomely for
Nuthin.

One more desperate effort, and Paul, by stretching out his hand, found
he could touch the other. Doubtless the contact sent a thrill of hope
through the hanging scout.

"How are you caught?" Paul called, as he managed to force himself still
nearer by hanging on to the branches with his other hand, and twisting
both legs around the same.

"I think a piece of rope is wrapped around my body. Anyway it hurts like
fun, and my arms seem all numb," he heard Nuthin reply.

This sort of an explanation just fitted in with what Paul had
conjectured. He had found it hard to believe that Nuthin would be so
frightened as to cling desperately to the flying tent, when he knew that
it was being carried off by the gale. He must have been an involuntary
passenger of the airship that quickly ended its short flight in a
neighboring tree.

Fortunately Paul had his stout pocket knife with him. He never went
without it; and furthermore, it was his habit to keep all of the blades
very sha