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All at once the blimp went into frenzied activity–we learned afterwards that its crew of three, captain included, had been so completely paralyzed by the reality of the event that they had forgotten what they were there for until almost too late. Now we heard the high note of its overdriven engines as it rolled and rocked toward the rising chute. For a moment the white spot showed against its gray side, then tossed and pitched wildly in the wake of the propellers as, driven too hastily and frenziedly, the ship overshot its mark and the captain missed his grab.

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I could only squeeze Alice tightly and choke as the aerial objects parted company and the blue gap between them widened. Instantly, avid to retrieve his mistake, the captain swung his craft in a wild careen around and a spiral upward. But he tried to do too many things at a time–make too much altitude and headway both at once. The blimp pitched steeply upward to a standstill, barely moving toward the parachute. Quickly it sloped downward again and gathered speed, nearing the chute, and then making a desperate zoom upward on its momentum. Mistake number three! He had waited too long before using his elevator; and the chute fled hopelessly away just ahead of the uptilted nose of the blimp. I could only moan, and Alice made no sound or movement.

Next we saw the blimp’s water ballast streaming earthward in the sun, and it was put into a long, steady spiral in pursuit of the parachute, whose speed–or so it seemed to my agonized gaze–was now noticeably on the increase. The altitude seemed appallingly great; the blimp’s ceiling, I knew, was only about twenty thousand; and my brother, even if not frozen to death by that time, would be traveling far faster then than any climbing speed the blimp could make; as his fall increased in speed, the climb of the bag decreased.

At last, with a quiver of renewed hope, I saw the blimp narrowing down its spirals–it was overtaking! Smaller and smaller grew both objects–but so did the gap between them! At last they merged, the tiny white dot and the little gray minnow. In one long agony I waited to see whether the gap would open out again. Lord of Hosts–the blimp was slanting steeply downward; the parachute had vanished!

Then at last I paid some attention to the totally limp form in my arms; and a few minutes later, amid an insane crowd, a pitifully embarrassed and nerve-shaken dirigible navigator was helping me lift my heavily-wrapped, shivering brother from the gondola, while the mechanics turned their attention to the overdriven engines and wracked framing. Did I say “helping me lift?” Such is the force of habit–but verily, a new nomenclature would have to come into being to deal adequately with such a life as my poor brother’s!

Tristan seized my hand.

“Jim!” he said through chattering teeth, “I’m cured–cured of the awful fear! That second time he missed, I just gave up entirely; I didn’t care any longer. And then somehow I felt such a sense of peace and freedom–there weren’t any upside-down things around to torture me, no sense of insecurity. I just was, in a great blue quiet; it wasn’t like falling at all; no awful shock to meet, no sickness or pain–just quietly floating along from Here to There, with no particular dividing line between, anywhere. The cold hurt, of course, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter, and was getting better when they caught me. But now–I can do things you never even imagined!”

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