“Let go.”
Having implicit confidence in the young inventor, the Celt obeyed, and they swung back.
There they swayed like a huge clock pendulum in mid air, Frank holding the Irishman by the arm with one hand.
Back and forth they tossed for several moments, the violent action of the line diminishing momentarily.
Finally it had almost paused.
“Are you rested?” panted Frank.
“Yis, a troifle.”
“And I’m rapidly exhausting.”
“How are we ter git out av this?”
“Can’t you hang on to the rope a little?”