"I—-I—-guess—-it safe—-in there," he muttered, hardly realizing that he was saying any thing.
Dave, from below, had looked on, fascinated. Now that he saw the major part of the daring feat accomplished, Darrin did not make the mistake of shouting any advice to his comrade. He knew that any sudden shout might attract Prescott's attention in a way to cause him to lose his head.
Slowly—-oh, so slowly! Dick came down. It seemed as though, at last, he understood his danger to the full and was afraid. The truth was, Prescott realized that, with all the vibrating of the staff in the wind, his muscular power was being sapped out of him.
Dave Darrin was down again, crouching on top of the spire, when
Dick reached him.
"Just touch your feet, Dick!" Darrin called coolly. "Then stand holding to the pole until I get down into the balcony."
Dick obeyed as one who could no longer think for himself.
This done, Dave slipped down the spire's slope, by the aid of the rope, until his feet touched the balcony's floor. Now he stood with upturned face and arms uplifted.
"Use the rope and come down, Dick," hailed. Darrin softly. "I'm here to catch you, if you need it."
Down came Prescott, holding to the rope, but helped more by Dave's loyal arms.
"Help Prescott inside, you two," Dave ordered sharply. Then, after the men inside the spire top had obeyed, Dave swung himself in. He left the rope fastened above, for whoever cared to go and get it.