They found that it was really a little harder than they had bargained for, because of their insecure footing. Accordingly, after several attempts that did not meet with much success, Tom had the other end of the rope carried to the scouts who were on the ground.
After that Tony just had to come. He evidently suffered pain, but, as he had said, he was game, and in the end they hoisted him to the limb, where he clung watching the next rescue.
It happened that Asa was the second to be pulled out. Meanwhile Dock was in great distress of mind. All his nerve seemed to have gone, for he kept pleading with Carl not to think of having revenge because of the way he had harmed him.
“Only get me out of this, Carl,” he kept saying, “and I’ve got something right here in my pocket I’m meaning to give back to you. I was getting shaky about it anyhow; but if you help me now you’re a-goin’ to have it, sure you are, Carl!”
It can easily be imagined that Carl worked feverishly when it came time to get Dock Phillips out. He was deeper than either of the others had been, and it required some very rough usage before finally they loosened him from his miry bed.
Dock groaned terribly while the work was being carried on, but they did not stop for that, knowing it had to be. In the end he, too, was drawn up to the limb, a most sorry looking spectacle indeed, but his groans had now changed into exclamations of gratitude.
It required much labor to get the four mud-daubed figures down to where the others were awaiting them. Even Tom and his helpers were pretty well plastered by that time, and their new uniforms looked anything but fine. Josh grumbled a little, but as for Tom and Carl they felt that it was worth all it cost and a great deal more.
Carl would not wait any longer than he could help. Perhaps he believed in “striking while the iron was hot.” Tom too was egging him on, for he felt that the sooner that precious paper was in the possession of his chum the better.
“Dock, I hope you mean to keep your word to me,” Carl said, as they took up the line of march over the ground that had been so lately covered.
Dock was seen to be fumbling as though reaching into an inner pocket; and while the suspense lasted of course Carl held his very breath. Then a hand reached back, and something in it was eagerly seized by the widow’s son. One look told him that it was the paper his mother needed so much in order to balk the greedy designs of Amasa Culpepper.