I went to the edge of the roof and looked across. It looked about a mile, now that I had to vault it, and the ground seemed like it was fifty-seven feet away. Also the dog, seeing we were fooling around that edge of the roof, strolled around and was sitting there looking up at me with an expression I didn’t like. It wasn’t what you could call inviting.
I poked my pole out to the ground in the middle. It reached that far, all right. The only question was whether I had the strength to swing myself all the way across. I saw I’d have to take a run to do it.
Running on that sloping, slippery roof didn’t look much like I’d have any luck doing it. But Mark saved the day. I might have known he’d foresee that difficulty.
“T-t-take off your shoes,” says he.
Easy, wasn’t it? All you have to do is think of it, and there isn’t anything to it at all. But somehow nobody thought of it but Mark.
I slipped off my shoes, measured on the pole where I ought to grip it, and went to the far end of the shed. Mark and Jiggins and Collins were looking at me with their faces sort of set and their jaws square. I grinned at them, though I didn’t feel much like grinning.
“Here goes,” says I, and I ran across that roof as tight as I could let it. My pole landed good and solid right between the two sheds and I swung out and over. I could feel the pole bending under me, and I could hear the dog growl and come for it, but I didn’t look down. There wasn’t time. That other roof seemed to be shooting out at me, so I just lifted up my feet and went bang down on it. If it hadn’t been for the pole I’d have slid off onto the ground, but I held it tight and scrambled to my feet. I was considerable skinned up, but it didn’t hurt any, because I felt so good because I’d got across. I was sort of proud of it. Mark was standing right at the edge of the other roof, and you never saw anybody look so relieved. When he spoke his voice was sort of husky and he stuttered like anything.
MY POLE LANDED GOOD AND SOLID RIGHT BETWEEN THE TWO SHEDS, AND I SWUNG OUT AND OVER
“B-b-b-bully for you, B-Binney,” says he, and then stopped sudden. It made me feel good, I can tell you, to have him say that and to know he’d been worried about me. When you know a fellow like Mark Tidd it makes you pretty glad when you’re sure he really likes you. And a word of praise from him means a lot, because he don’t praise very often.