Tom made a cast, but the rope fell far short of the mark. He made several other attempts, failing each time.
“Let me try it,” requested Lieutenant Wingate. Before casting. Hippy tied a small stone to the end of the rope, then swinging six feet or so of the rope in the air, he let go. The stone plunked into the bushes.
A mighty howl from Stacy greeted the throw. The stone had hit the fat boy a glancing blow.
“I’m killed!” yelled Stacy. “You hit me.”
“Grab it!” shouted Tom. “Make fast and do it right. You aren’t much hurt or you couldn’t yell like that. Let us know when you are ready.”
Several moments elapsed before Stacy announced that he had fastened the rope about him as directed. Having to work with one hand, while he clung to his supports with the other, made slow work for the boy.
“If you are positive that you are well tied up, let go and don’t be frightened if you slide a little. We shan’t let you go far,” encouraged Hippy as Tom took hold of the rope with him.
“Let go!” ordered Tom Gray.
There followed a moment of hesitation, then a violent tug on the rope, accompanied by a howl from Stacy Brown as he released his hold on the bushes, and felt himself sliding down the mountain-side. He was brought up with a jolt, and skidded dizzily sideways as the rope grew taut.
“Let go! You’re taking the breath out of me!” he begged in a gasping yell. Stacy had tied a slip-knot which now held him in a vise-like grip.