Now, although they had as yet not told Billie about it, his chums had talked the matter over, and determined that one of their number should by rights stay there on the top of the precipice, while the others descended the rope to the shelf they felt sure lay just one-third of the way down the rocky wall.
And of course this should be Billie, for everything combined to mark him as the victim. He was so
very heavy that it would be a task to get him up, once he managed to slide down the rope. Then again, he was inclined to be clumsy, and might in some way make a slip that would result in a sad tragedy. Last but far from least in the list, Billie was not fitted as well as they were to take part in a desperate enterprise like this.
And so all that remained to be done now was to tell him. Neither of them liked the job, but it must be done; and when Donald nudged Adrian, and whispered in his ear that he ought to speak, the other lost no time in doing so.
“You know, Billie,” he said, getting his lips as close to the ear of the stout chum as possible, “all of us can’t go along, because there’s got to be one stay up here to help pull, when we’re ready to come back.”
“Oh! why to be sure,” replied Billie, sweetly; “and of course you’ve selected me to be that one? But then, what’s the difference? I’m that heavy I might break the rope; or drag somebody down with me. I’m just as well satisfied; though it’ll seem _aw_ful lonely while you’re gone, fellows; and I sure hope you won’t stay all night.”
This was a pleasant surprise, for they had fully anticipated that Billie would set up a great opposition to their plan. But apparently he had himself been thinking it over, and settled on his plan of
campaign, should they give him the choice of going or staying.
“Nothing is apt to bother you up here, Billie, make sure of that,” said Donald, reassuringly.
“And you have your gun along in case you need it,” added Adrian.