only get you rattled," I said.

"What do you mean--rattled?" he called.

I said, "Well, can't you take a little advice? When you're in the scouts
you'll learn that you can always hang on tighter with your eyes shut."

We took off our stockings and tied them together but there was so much
space needed for the knots that they made a line only about five feet
long. So we tied a couple of our scout shirts on by the sleeves. Then
Westy took hold of one end and I took hold of the other, and we pulled.
It pulled out in one place and we fastened it again. It was a clumsy
kind of a line and we didn't know whether it would hold or not. But it
was the only thing we could think of.

Then I called to Warde, "Don't move till we tell you. Are you slipping?"

"Guess not," he said.

"Don't move even if you feel something on your back. We're going to
throw a line right near your hand."

I grabbed the end stocking and wound it around my hand so it wouldn't
slip away. Then I threw the other end, the end with the shirts. It went
over the edge of the shelf within about three feet of Warde's arm.

"Don't grab it yet," I said. "Wait. Don't let go."

I began pulling to make sure the line was strong. Maybe the shirt on the
end was caught on something below the shelf. Maybe the line would have
held Warde all right if he moved back on his hands and knees. But
anyway, it didn't hold when I pulled on it. I guess I pulled too hard.
Anyway the line broke right near my hand and most of it went over the
edge of the shelf.

"There it is at the bottom," Warde said. He didn't seem excited or
disappointed. I never saw a fellow like Warde Hollister--_never_. I've
seen brave fellows but never a fellow just like him.

"It wasn't your fault," Westy said; "what next?"

I guess Warde must have heard that because he called, "Nobody's to
blame. You tell my people."

I was nearly crying. I said, "Warde, you hold on. You're not slipping,
are you?"

"N--not much," he said.

"Don't trust to those weeds," Westy called. "Can't you get your fingers
in a crack or a crevice or something and brace yourself back? We'll
take off every stitch we have on and make another----"

"I'm slipping, fellows," he said. "I was a scout anyway, hey? No, I
wasn't----"

"You're the best scout that ever was, Warde," I called to him. I was
nearly crying, I couldn't help it. "Only hang on--_please_ hang on--do
you hear? _Please_ hang on. The bushes--just wait----"

By that