"Yes, go ahead," said David, "we'll all try."
Frank, thus urged, swung up on the end of the bars. "Count for me," he said, as he let himself down between the bars and straightened up; "I'll need all the wind I've got."
Jimmy began, "One, two, three, four, five, six, good boy, keep a-going—seven, eight,—getting pretty heavy, eh? Nine, ten—eleven, twelve—going, going, gone;—no, he has one more in him,—thirteen—don't stop there, it's unlucky." But Frank had stuck. He got down all right on the fourteenth dip, but could not straighten up. He dropped off, puffing. "Gee, that's work," he said, "Go ahead, you try," indicating Jimmy.
"No," said that individual, "I want to see Lewis try it."
"Oh, I'm not feeling very strong to-day," said Lewis, "I'll do it some other day."
"Here, here, no shystering," said all hands. "We all agreed to do it. Take your turn."
So Lewis reluctantly struggled to a position on the bars. "I'll count," said Frank. Lewis let himself down gingerly, and there he hung. He was heavy and fat. He made desperate efforts to push himself up again, and struggled and kicked, but although he got part of the way up, he couldn't straighten those arms, although the blood was almost bursting out of his cheeks in the effort. The boys were howling with laughter.
"Kick with your left leg."
"Hold your mouth straight, and you'll make it."