“Not a minute. Go on now!”
Merritt spoke sharply purposely. Rob rallied and did as he was told. He seized Merritt’s belt as the other boy hung head downward, and, digging his toes into the cracks of the wall, he drew himself up till he could, with his other hand, lay hold of the edge of the opening. After this it was an easy matter, thanks to the ruinous condition of the wall which offered plenty of foothold, to clamber to safety. Reaching it, Rob lay back white and panting.
But in a few seconds he was able to help his chums haul the courageous Merritt out of danger.
It was some time before they felt able to leave the ruined tower, such a bad shaking up had all their nerves received; but at last a move was made. Needless to say, the Scout totems were not flung to the breeze that day.
“I don’t see how we ever did it,” exclaimed Fred, as they reached the ground and Tubby began taking pictures of the tower while the others looked up at the spot where Rob had clung in such dire peril.
“I guess ‘being prepared,’ having good, healthy muscles and all that had a whole heap to do with it,” said Tubby, snapping his shutter; “and now let’s get a move on and get back to dinner, or second breakfast, as they call it here. I don’t know how you fellows feel, but I’m one aching void.”
CHAPTER XIX.
THE GATUN DAM.
The scene changes to a day when the boys had their first view of the mighty Gatun Dam, a work that, as President Taft said, is “as solid as the everlasting hills.” Picture a vast valley hemmed in by hills heavily timbered with tropical growth. Across the valley floor the current of the muddy Chagres slowly serpentines, with workmen’s huts clustered along its sides, and everywhere preparations being made to hem it in, much as the Liliputians set about harnessing Gulliver, a giant to them.
The boys had their first view of the mighty Gatun Dam.