y as though the pole must bend and snap, what with the pressure
of the heavy wind and the weight of his body!

Slowly, laboriously, mechanically, like one in a trance, Dick
employed his left hand in patiently disentangling the black web
from the trap in which it had been caught.

At last the scarf was free. Most cautiously Dick lowered his
left hand, tucking the jeweled fabric carefully into the inner
pocket of his coat.

"I---I---guess---it safe---in there," he muttered, hardly
realizing that he was saying any thing.

Dave, from below, had looked on, fascinated. Now that he saw
the major part of the daring feat accomplished, Darrin did not
make the mistake of shouting any advice to his comrade. He knew
that any sudden shout might attract Prescott's attention in a
way to cause him to lose his head.

Slowly---oh, so slowly! Dick came down. It seemed as though,
at last, he understood his danger to the full and was afraid.
The truth was, Prescott realized that, with all the vibrating
of the staff in the wind, his muscular power was being sapped
out of him.

Dave Darrin was down again, crouching on top of the spire, when
Dick reached him.

"Just touch your feet, Dick!" Darrin called coolly. "Then stand
holding to the pole until I get down into the balcony."

Dick obeyed as one who could no longer think for himself.

This done, Dave slipped down the spire's slope, by the aid of
the rope, until his feet touched the balcony's floor. Now he
stood with upturned face and arms uplifted.

"Use the rope and come down, Dick," hailed. Darrin softly. "I'm
here to catch you, if you need it."

Down came Prescott, holding to the rope, but helped more by Dave's
loyal arms.

"Help Prescott inside, you two," Dave ordered sharply. Then,
after the men inside the spire top had obeyed, Dave swung himself
in. He left the rope fastened above, for whoever cared to go
and get it.

Mr. Macey, ashen faced and shaking, stared at Dick in a sort of
fascination.

"I---I got it," said Dick, when he could control his voice. "Here
it is, safe in my pocket."

"I forgot to ask," rejoined Mr. Macey tremulously. "I'm sick
of that bauble. Ever since you started aloft, Prescott, I've
been calling myself all sorts of names for being a party to this
thing."

"Why, it's all right," laughed Dick, only a bit brokenly. "It
was easy enough---with a fellow like Dave to help."

"Did he go up the flagstaff, too?" demanded Mr. Macey,