Arne liked this kind of a job, and he felt proud to be working with Uncle Jens and Gustav and Evart. Strong wires were fastened securely to trees and firmly anchored below to posts driven at some distance from the foot of the cliff. A milk can or a large bundle of hay could be sent down those wires in a rope sling, easily and swiftly.
When the little elevator was ready at last, Uncle Jens said they must send down a large milk can to make sure everything was all right. They filled one with water, tied it securely with a heavy rope, and watched as it slid and swayed its way down. Then the wires were tightened again, and they drew the milk can up and made more tests.
“I think it will do,” Uncle Jens said at last.
With all the outdoor air and work, Arne was getting hungry again. So were the others, and every one was glad when Aunt Tina appeared with a large white coffeepot. “Time for afternoon coffee,” she called.
Gustav sat where he could look out over the fjord, as if he hoped he might see the Laks coming in ahead of time. Suddenly he gave an exclamation and jerked his field glasses out of his pocket. “Some kid down there has turned over in a sailboat!” he exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to the cliff edge. The others followed.
“Don’t believe that kid knows much about swimming,” Gustav said, taking another quick look through his glasses. “He isn’t making for shore—just trying to hang on to that capsized boat. That’s slippery business. The water’s deep and cold.”
“It’s Oscar Blessom’s boat!” cried Arne. “But Oscar’s on a bicycle trip. Must be Torger! He isn’t very big, and I know he can’t swim much. And there’s no one near enough to see or help him.” Arne looked at Gustav hopelessly. Not even Gustav could help now.
But Gustav’s lips were set, and he went quickly toward the wire elevator.
“What are you going to do?” cried Margret anxiously.