ween the penetrating eyes of Owen
and the money in his hand.

"Take it; it's yours."

The flabby hand closed almost caressingly around the roll. "We'll go
in and have a look at the brute," he said.

They followed him through a line of stalls to a large padded box at the
far end of the barn. A beautiful bay saddle horse occupied the box.
Kaboff entered and called the animal, which answered by flying into a
seeming fury, plunging about the box, kicking, rearing and snapping.

"Same old devil," muttered Hicks. "He'll do."

The sight of an apple in Kaboff's hand calmed the animal. It came to
him and ate docilely while he slipped a bridle over its head. Once
outside the stall, however, it began another rampage.

Hicks held a last whispered conversation with Kaboff, giving him minute
instructions.

"I can just try it, you know," said Kaboff. "I can't guarantee to get
away with it."

"As much again if you do, you know," said Owen as he started briskly
away with Hicks.

The place that Panatella had chosen for the start of his balloon
ascension was a field upon the crest of the Palisades above the
amusement park.

Panatella had brought with him from abroad a reputation for dare-devil
adventures in the air. And he had proved his reckless courage in the
several brief ascensions that he had already made on this side.

Today, with his promise of the longest parachute drop on record, people
flocked to the field from New York and all adjacent New Jersey.

"I wish you wouldn't always invite that velvet-pawed servant on our
trips," grumbled Harry to Pauline, as Owen went for his dustcoat.

"Owen is my trustee and guardian. You have no right to speak of him as
a servant. Besides, when he's along he keeps you from being silly."

Harry stamped out to the garage, swung a new touring car around to the
door, and soon, with Owen and Pauline, was speeding for the ferry.

Signor Panatella was superintending the filling of the great gas bag.
He was a tall, lithe man in pink tights beneath which his muscles
bulged angularly like the gas filling the balloon bag.

A Latin rapidity of speech and motion added to the pink tights made him
comically frog-like, and even the abattis of medals on his breast could
not save his dignity.

He bustled about giving orders to the workmen who were preparing to cut
the ropes, then flitting back to the crowd to answer the questions of
impromptu admirers.

Pauline had left the car and w