"Now, by leaning down here, I think I can reach you with this coat," he proceeded to explain. "If I had a rope, it would be much easier, for with a loop I could make a sure thing of it. But half a loaf is better than no bread, they say."
"Of course it is, Rob," agreed Tubby, who was in no position to quarrel with any measures that were taken for his relief. "But what can I do with the coat when it comes down to me? I don't feel that cold, you know."
"I'm going to keep hold of one end, Tubby," Rob explained quietly, in a way to convince the imperiled scout that everything was working as arranged, and that he need not worry. "With just one hand you get a good grip of the end that's near you; then start in to try and climb, using your clasped legs the best you know how. And don't get discouraged if you only come up an inch or so at a time. When you're within reach Merritt will hang down and lend a hand, too."
All of which was undoubtedly very cheering to Tubby. This thing of having stanch comrades in times of distress was, he had always believed, one of the best parts of the scout brotherhood.
He immediately took a firm grip of the dangling coat-sleeve, and commenced to wriggle the best he knew how.
He immediately took a firm grip—and commenced to wriggle the best he knew how.—[Page 247].
"I'm making it, Rob; sure I am!" he presently announced. "That time I slid up as much as six inches. It was a bully hunch, that coat racket of yours. Keep her going, Rob, and I'll get there yet. Never give up—that's my motto, you know. I may get in lots of scrapes, but somehow I always do manage to crawl out, don't I?"
"Save your breath, Tubby, for your work; don't chatter so much," Rob told him.