Mr Sharp stooped over and lifted Tom's
form from the floor, for Mr. Swift was too excited and trembled
too much to be of any service. Our hero was as one dead. His body
was limp, after that first rigid stretching out, as the current
ran through him; his eyes were closed, and his face was very
pale.
"Is--is there any hope?" faltered Mr. Swift.
"I think so," replied the balloonist. "He is still breathing--
faintly. We must summon a doctor at once. Will you telephone for
one, while I carry him in the house?"
As Mr. Sharp emerged from the shop, bearing Tom's body, an
automobile drew up in front of the place.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed a voice. "Tom's hurt! How did it
happen? Bless my very existence!"
"Oh, Mr. Damon, you're just in time!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp,
"Tom's had a bad shock. Will you go for a doctor in your auto?"
"Better than that! Let me take Tom in the car to Dr.
Whiteside's office," proposed the eccentric man. "It will be
better that way."
"Yes, yes," agreed Mr. Swift eagerly. "Put Tom in the auto!"
"If only it doesn't break down," added Mr. Damon fervently.
"Bless my spark plug, but it would be just my luck!"
But they started off all right, Mr.
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