"I'll try it. Dominick, do you understand?"
"Me understand."
"Then see that you do as you are told. You go first. Tell him what to do, Steve."
"Climb very carefully. Don't hurry or make any sudden moves. If you do, you will jerk me loose from the bar here. Be as quick as you can without fumbling. Dominick, you swing to my left leg, Bob holding to the other. Be careful that you don't drop off when you make the change. There, that's a relief," added Steve when they had made the change as directed.
"We are ready," announced Bob.
"Come along, Dominick. That's right; you are doing well. When you get up a little further hook one hand into my belt and rest a minute. You will be all right in a few minutes. Gracious, my arms are getting tired!"
The Italian had begun to climb up the Iron Boy's leg, creeping inch by inch, breathing hard, the man's eyes fairly starting from his head in his terrible fear of the death that he knew awaited him a thousand feet below. All the time Steve's calm, steady voice was encouraging the man, directing him and urging him on to renewed efforts.
"Hurry up," called Jarvis. "I'll be letting go myself, first thing you fellows know."
"There you are. Grab the bar," commanded Steve sharply.
With an exclamation that was almost a shout of joy, the Italian fastened both hands over the iron bar.