CHAPTER XII
The Nerve of the Soldier
Again Mrs. Macey sought to interpose. Her husband, too, was at first against it.
But, now that the die was fairly cast, Herr Schimmelpodt firmly championed the boys.
"Eider von of dem gan do it—-easy!" declared the big German. "You don't know dem boys——vot? Ach, I do. Dey got der brain, der nerves und der muscle."
"It's a crime to let such youths attempt the thing," shivered an anaemic-looking man in the crowd. "Whichever one goes up that flagstaff will come down again faster. He'll be killed!"
"Cheer up some more," advised Herr Schimmelpodt stolidly. "It don't gost you nottings, anyway. If Dick Bresgott preak his neck soon, I gif him der bulliest funeral dot any boy in Gridley efer hat."
"But what good——-" began the nervous man tremulously.
"Talk ist cheap," retorted Herr Schimmelpodt, with a wink, "mid dot's all I haf to bay for dot funeral. Dick Bresgott ain't fool enough yet to preak der only neck he has."
At this a jolly laugh went around, relieving the tension a bit, for there were many in the crowd who had begun to feel mighty serious as soon as they realized that Dick was in earnest.