“Oh, she’s a pad rotten old rope, an’ she’ll burn her as soon as she gets up again. But what a ding I gave my airm!”
“That’s it, Max; the rope was rotten. Can you tie it together if we throw it up to you?”
“Na,” shouted Scoodrach; “she couldna tie it together, and she couldna throw it up.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t tie it tight enough,” faltered Max; “but if I could, it would not bear you.”
“It would have to bear us. We can’t stop down here. I say, Scoody, think we could climb up?”
Scoodrach shook his head.
“Well, then, can we get down?”
“If she could get up or doon without a rope, the hawks wouldn’t have built their nest.”
“That sounds like good logic, Max,” cried Kenneth, “so you had better let yourself over till you can hang by your hands, and then drop, and we’ll catch you.”
“What?”