"You will not!" retorted Crazy Jane indignantly. "I'll stay down first, and you know I will. But you're only joking and you know it."
"Hath Buthter broken her nothe?" questioned Tommy.
"I think not," replied Miss Elting. "Come, get started, Tommy. Mr. Grubb will assist you. I shall have to look after Margery's bruised face."
"I don't need any athithtanthe. I gueth I know how to get up there by mythelf. Bethideth, I don't want to thkin my nothe."
"Wait!" commanded Jane threateningly.
"No, I'm going. Look out! I'm coming. Get Buthter out of the way, pleathe."
"She doesn't know whether she is going or coming," was Margery's withering comment.
"Oh, thith ith eathy," declared Tommy. "All you have to do ith to take hold of the rope with both handth, lean back ath if you were looking at a bird flying over your head and—Thave me! oh, thave me!"
Had not Tommy quickly raised her head she might have sustained a fractured skull. Her feet left the rock and beat a positive tattoo in the air. A moment more and she had managed to entangle them in the rope and, powerless to help herself, shrieked and struggled frantically.
"Thave me, thave me! I can't move!" she screamed.