"Did de 'gator done git him?" questioned Ichabod apprehensively.
"Not yet. He may," answered the guide. "Let up on the rope a little, Master Tad."
"You had better pass another one about his waist first, in case anything happens to this rope. Get your rope, Ned. I can hold him here until you have him safely secured."
Ned ran for his rope. All this time Stacy Brown was hanging head down, looking into the pool, face to face with the terrible thing that he saw down there. He couldn't keep his eyes closed, try as he might. A strange fascination seemed to force him to look into the big, bulging eyes of the 'gator patiently waiting for him down in the black pool.
Ned, returning with his rope, climbed over on the knees and leaned over to secure it about Stacy's waist. He quickly turned a pale face up to those gathered about the scene.
"Hold fast to me, please. I don't fancy furnishing a meal for that fellow down there," said Rector in a quiet voice.
"What—what is it, Ned?" gasped Walter.
"Never mind what it is. Just take tight hold of me. Hold my legs, if you please, Mr. Lilly."
The guide did so, and Ned lost no time in taking a double hitch about Stacy's waist. Lilly nodded to Tad to lower away on the rope, which Tad did slowly and cautiously.
"Don't—don't let me down in there!" yelled the fat boy, squirming and fighting and kicking.