Suddenly Joe threw. [The white ball was plainly visible as it sailed through the air], unwinding as it mounted upward. On and on it went, Joe, no less than every one in the crowd, watching it with eager eyes. And as for the man on the tower he eagerly stretched out his hands to catch the ball of cord, on which his life now depended.
Straight and true it went, as swift and as direct a ball as Baseball Joe had ever delivered. Straight and true—on and on and then——
Into the hands of the anxiously waiting man went the ball of cord. Eagerly he clutched it, while the crowd set up a great cheer.
“That’s the stuff!” yelled a man in Joe’s ear. “You sure are one good pitcher, my boy!”
“Never mind about that now,” said the practical Joe. “Fasten on the rope. Quick!”
Willing hands did this, and Joe looked to see if the knot would not slip. He seemed to have assumed charge of the rescue operations.
“Haul up!” he yelled to the man through the newspaper megaphone. “Haul up the rope and make it fast. Then, when I give the signal, slide down.”
The man waved his hands to show that he understood, and the next moment he began pulling on the cord. The rope followed. Quickly it uncoiled from where the strands had been piled in readiness for just this. Up and up the man on the tower pulled it until he held the end of the heavy rope in his hands.
There now extended from the tower to the ground a slanting pathway of rope, such as is sometimes seen leading down into a stone quarry. It was high enough above the flames to enable a man to swing himself along above them, though doubtless he would have to pass over a zone of fierce heat.