The boys peered over the edge of the cliff. It was perpendicular and steep as a wall. It was hard to imagine even a fly maintaining a hold on it.
But they knew that Captain Atkinson was not the man to speak without reason, and so they respectfully waited for him to continue.
“I estimate the height of this cliff at a trifle under one hundred feet,” he said, “therefore we have a means of getting to the bottom.”
“I don’t see how,” rejoined Ralph.
“My boy, you will never make a Ranger if you can’t make the best of a situation,” said Captain Atkinson in a tone of mild reproof. “We have the three lariats. Their united length is one hundred and twenty feet. That will allow us a chance to knot some sticks into the united ropes and thus make a sort of rope ladder. We can secure it ’round this spindle–shaped rock and so reach the foot of the falls without much difficulty.”
The boys hailed the idea with enthusiasm, Ralph saying:
“Well, I am a chucklehead. Why on earth didn’t I think of that?”
“Because you’re not a full–fledged Texas Ranger,” laughed Walt. “I guess there’s more to being a Ranger than we thought.”
“I guess there is,” agreed Ralph contritely.