“Best of all, Dad will be proud of us.”
The old water tower reared forlornly alongside the tracks. At close quarters it seemed even more decrepit than from a distance. When the boys glanced at the ladder with its many rungs missing, they wondered if they would be able to ascend to the top on it.
“If Jackley climbed this ladder we can too,” said Frank as he stopped, panting, at the bottom. “Let’s go!”
He began to scramble up the rotted wood rungs. He had ascended only four of them when there came an alarming crack!
“Careful!” Joe cried out from below.
Frank clung to the rung above just as the one beneath him snapped under his weight. He drew himself up and cautiously put his foot on the next rung. This one was firmer and held his weight.
“Hey!” Joe called up. “Don’t break all the rungs! I want to come up too!”
Frank continued to climb the ladder as his brother began the ascent. When they came to any place where a rung had broken off, the boys were obliged to haul themselves up by main force. But finally Frank reached the top and waited until Joe was just beneath him.
“There’s a trap door up here leading down into the tank,” Frank called.
“Well, for Pete’s sake, be careful,” Joe warned. “We don’t want any more accidents with trap doors.”