Finally it began to settle in a neighborhood full of brush and trees.

Mart looked out anxiously, and it was with much satisfaction that he saw the balloon was about to fall in a cleared spot, where no damage would come to it, and from which he could easily escape.

Down and down came the monster, until it touched the ground as lightly as would a drifting feather.

The lad leaped away to escape the great ma.s.s of falling silk and ropes.

Soon the balloon lay a flat ma.s.s where it had struck.

Mart wondered if it would be safe to leave the thing until some one came for it.

Usually Greson attended to such matters, but now he might have his hands full with Leo Dunbar.

As Mart thought of Leo his eyes filled with tears.

He thought a good deal of his champion.

He was the first person in the world who had really befriended him.

"Oh, I hope he isn't seriously hurt!" he murmured to himself.

While he stood by the fallen balloon wondering what was best to do he heard the sound of wagon wheels.

They came from a country road a few hundred feet to his right.

"It must be Greson or one of the others coming for the balloon," he said to himself.

The wagon came to a stop, and he ran forward to meet the newcomer that he might inquire about Leo.

Then of a sudden his heart seemed to stop beating.

The man approaching from the wagon was Porler!

CHAPTER x.x.xII.-MART A PRISONER.

Mart was nearly dumfounded.

It was so unexpected, this meeting, that he was almost too paralyzed to move.

He gave a faint cry of alarm. Porler heard it and looked in his direction.

"Ah, so there you are!" he sang out. "I thought I would find you somewhere in the vicinity!"

He ran toward the lad.

Instinctively Mart turned to flee.

"Stop!" he cried. And he made after the boy at a greater speed.

Mart did not answer him, but ran the faster.

But the boy was no match for the old balloonist, who in his day had been a swift runner.

He kept gaining on Mart, and seeing this, the lad ran toward a clump of bushes.

Mart dived into the midst of these, and thus managed to get out of his sight.

"You can't escape me," cried Porler in a rage. "You might as well stop right where you are."

Mart made no reply, but kept on.

Presently he came to a tall tree.

This gave him an idea. Mart could climb like a monkey, and up the tree he went with great speed.

When Porler reached the spot he was out of sight, and the old balloonist went on.

"Oh, how I hope he will go far enough away," said Mart to himself.

Soon he could hear no more of Porler.

Thinking him gone, he cautiously descended the tree.

Barely had his feet touched the ground than he felt a rough hand on his shoulder.

"I thought you were here," cried the old balloonist in his harsh tone.

"You can't get away from me now, Mart Keene."

"Let me go!" he panted. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"Touch you? Well, I guess that's cool. As if you didn't belong to me!"

"I don't belong to you. You haven't the first claim on me."

"We'll see about that. Didn't I take you out of the street and feed and clothe you, and--"

"Made me work like a horse to pay for it," finished the boy. "You have got more out of me than I ever cost you, ten times over, so there!"

"You'll come along with me-willingly or unwillingly," growled Porler.

"Give me your hand."

He tried to catch hold of Mart. He s.n.a.t.c.hed his arm away.

Filled with rage, he struck the lad a cruel blow full in the face.

It staggered Mart, and he nearly went to the ground.