"Clasp your legs around the thing, can't you, Tubby?" said Rob, who saw that the strain on the other's arms must be tremendous, judging from the way he was hanging there.
The advice struck Tubby as well worth following; so he immediately began to work his short legs violently until he found that he could, as Rob suggested, twist them around his slender support.
When that had been accomplished it was much easier for him. He began to suck in some encouragement once more.
"But won't you try and get me up again, Rob?" he asked piteously. "I can't hang on here for very long, like a regular old pendulum to a clock. I'm not wound up for a seven-day-goer. And say, I'd hate to have to drop kerplunk into all that water down there. Think up some way to grab me out of this, won't you, Rob?"
"I'm trying to, Tubby. Keep still a bit, and let me think," he was told.
In one way, of course, it was a ridiculous sight, and that was why Rob winked his eye at Merritt when he thought he could detect a whimsical look on the other's face. Still, it was anything but a laughing matter to poor Tubby, who felt that he had a tremendous amount at stake. Every time he found himself compelled to let his horrified eyes turn downward that noisy stream seemed to be more and more formidable to him. He fairly hated it.
"Can't you climb up again, Tubby?" asked Merritt, who knew exactly what he would have quickly done had he found himself placed in the same predicament.
"I'd like to, the worst kind," the fat scout assured him, "but you know I'm feeling very queer and weak, so I don't believe I could do much that way, unless," he added quickly, "I had some assistance from above."
"And that's just what I'm going to try and give you, Tubby."
While Rob was saying this he had unbuttoned his coat. This he proceeded to take off, first making sure to transfer anything he had in the pockets, so that he might not suffer a loss.