“Who’s going down?” asked Sim, with a vein of entreaty in his voice, for, being such a good climber, Sim would have gladly assumed that role.
“I intend to,” replied Rob, calmly, and no one disputed his right, since he occupied the position of scout leader, and could do as he pleased.
He took the torch with him, but as he would probably find a good use for both hands during the descent, Rob managed to secure the light about his person. Then, as he found occasion to make use of it, he could easily do so.
“Hold fast to the old vine, boys, whatever you do,” was his last remark as he started to slide over the brink.
Rob seemed perfectly cool. If he felt nervous at all, it was in connection with the possibility of finding poor little Caleb lying bruised and insensible far below.
The others waited impatiently. Peering over the edge, even as they gripped the end of the wild grapevine, they could follow the descent of their comrade by the aid of the light, for Rob had the battery turned on purposely.
He did not make undue haste, for Rob knew the folly of being too eager. Better consume a little more time, and make sure of results. It was bad enough to have one accident without risking another on top of it.
“There, he’s stopping to take a look below!” exclaimed Tubby, breathlessly.
Rob, while holding on with one hand, having found a brace for his feet, had indeed taken out the torch from his upper coat pocket, and was using it to pierce the darkness beneath him.
“Now he acts like he sees something!” cried Sim. “Look at him wave his hand up at us, boys! Anyway, we’ll soon know the worst. I’m hoping the little chap may not be so badly hurt.”