the heads of the enraged inmates.

[Illustration: FIG. 31.--"He Jumped from the Weed Top."]

"Good advice," Spite responded with feigned cheerfulness; "I will try
again. And succeed next time, too!"

A mocking laugh followed him as he swung himself down the weed by his
rope ladder, and hurried off again into the ruined camp. On--on--on! He
stopped at last.

"This is it--the very thing. But, can I manage it?" He stood before a
broken twig as thick as his own body and five or six times as long as
himself. Think of a man carrying a log as thick as himself and
twenty-five or thirty feet long! That was something like the feat that
Spite undertook.

"But I can do it," he said; "I _must_ do it!" The energy and strength
of despair were upon him. He seized the beam with his long arms, bowed
himself to the burden and lifted it. Tottering with the weight, and
stumbling over the debris of the desolate village, he laid down the beam
at last at the foot of the tall weed.

[Illustration: THE BOY'S ILLUSTRATION.
FIG. 32.--Spite the Spy Climbs a Weed to Reconnoitre.]

The task was not ended. He twisted a cable around the log and mounted
into the foliage. He stood a hundred times his own height above the
weight he wished to lift. Would he ever get it up? We shall see! He
hauled upon his rope until it was stretched to its utmost. Then one end
of the stick slowly rose above the earth; up--up--until the other end
was in the air. See! it swings quite free. It is rising higher and
higher. Hand over hand, the strong and patient workman is drawing the
beam slowly and surely toward the top of the plant.[V]

Madam Breeze began to be concerned about this new effort of Spite's. A
few more stout assaults and the roof must give way dragging with it
walls and all.

But what if Spite should manage to get his great log anchor on it? It
would hold the roof so steady that no power at her command could move
it. Moreover, it would bear the roof down toward the ground, and so
prevent Whirlit, Keener, and Whisk from breaking through by stretching
the elastic cords upward until they snapped. They could make no headway
by pressing downward since the earth stayed the cords in that direction.
And how could they heave the roof upward with a great log lying on it?

"I don't want to begin this affair all over again," quoth Madam Breeze,
"for in sooth, I'm pretty well out of breath now--wheeze! A few more
turns will use me up. Therefore, my good Mr. Spite