“He has,” cried Joe, excitedly. “Do you feel? He’s signalling for us to haul him up.”
For three sharp tugs were given at the rope.
“Ay, that means all right,” said Hardock. “Now you hold on tight.”
“I can’t haul him all alone.”
“Nay, not you. Nobody wants you to try; I only want you to hold while I get ready. It wouldn’t do to let one end go loose, would it?”
As he spoke Hardock relinquished his hold of the rope, and began to strip off his jacket.
“What are you going to do? You’re not going down, Sam?”
“You wait a bit: you’ll see,” said the man; and he folded his coat into a large pad, which he laid over the edge of the rock. “Now you lay the rope on that, my lad, and give me the end. That’s the way; now it won’t be cut.”
“When we haul it over the rock? No; I see.”
“But we aren’t going to haul it over the rock,” said Hardock, nodding his head. “I’ll show you a way worth two of that.”