“Hold on for your lives!” he shouted to those above, and then to Rob:—
“Let go with one hand and grab my right wrist, Rob.”
For an instant Rob hesitated. He dared not let go. But again came Merritt’s voice. This time it was sharp and imperative.
“Let go and grab me!”
Rob’s grip with his left was relaxed and he seized Merritt’s wrist, giving it a jerk that almost pulled his arm out of the socket. For an instant his heart was in his mouth. If the boys above weren’t strong enough to hold them, they would both be dashed downward to the ground that looked so fearfully far below. But both Tubby and Fred were heavy youths, and then, too, the belt that was looped through that accommodating iron staple was an anchor in itself.
There was a slight give and a sag, but the “human chain” held.
“Now the other hand,” ordered Merritt, drawing a breath of relief.
Rob obeyed instantly this time. But he was a fairly heavy youth and it was a good thing that he could take part of the weight off his rescuer’s arms by digging his toes into the cracks of the ruinous tower. Otherwise this story might have had a different ending.
“Now, Rob, use me as a ladder. Don’t look down for heaven’s sake, but reach up and grab my belt. Use the cracks in the wall like the rungs of a ladder and clamber up.”
“Let me rest a minute. I’m winded and dizzy,” breathed Rob, whose nerve was badly shaken.