The boys obeyed Merritt’s orders, but Tubby looked at him with apprehension.
“You’ll never do it,” he quavered.
“Nonsense, of course I will, if you fellows carry out your part. It’s nothing more than wall scaling, only we’re doing it the other way round.”
When all was ready Tubby was lying flat with his belt hooked through the iron staple. He had fast hold of Fred’s ankles, while the latter’s hands came just to the edge of the opening. Merritt was to form the last link in this human chain that was to rescue Rob Blake, if such a thing was possible.
Merritt had already seen that the bush to which Rob clung was not more than four feet below the opening. His daring plan was to lower himself,—with Fred clinging to his ankles,—till he could reach Rob’s hands and help him up to safety.
Without a word Merritt threw himself on his stomach, after taking off his coat and hat, and wriggled to the edge. One look at Rob’s upturned face told him that he had no time to lose. Seconds, yes, fractions of seconds, would count now.
“Catch hold, Fred!”
Fred gripped the daring Scout’s ankles tightly.
“Now hang on like grim death.”
Merritt clenched his teeth and slowly wriggled his way over the edge. Hanging head downward he extended his hands toward the shrub where Rob was clinging.