“Sure I could do it. I’ll scan the horizon, hey?”
The crossing gates, as is usual, were in two pairs. They were of the customary sort which are lowered to a horizontal position by cogwheels. When not down they stood perfectly upright like four emaciated giant fingers pointing skyward. One of these stood close to the old tower house and was at present the only means (though a rather doubtful means) of access to it. The open framework on which the little edifice stood did not extend out to the edge of it on any side, so that climbing up these supports would avail one nothing.
The upright gate, though slender and rather wabbly, was reinforced by iron bars and would doubtless bear the weight of our mighty hero for at least two-thirds of its length. He now proceeded to shinny up this gate and as he ascended toward its thinner end it swayed slightly like the stalk of a lily in the summer breeze.
“’Tisn’t going to break, is it?” Townsend called, watching the little scout as he wriggled up. “It seems kind of unsteady.”
“Sure it isn’t,” Pee-wee called.
“Watch your step,” called Townsend as Pee-wee ascended to a point level with the window.
“Oh, boy!” shouted Pee-wee, elated and without waiting to transfer himself to the little house. “I can see the road for miles and miles and miles. There’s a village or something about a mile down that way.”
“Watch your step,” Townsend warned, as Pee-wee reached out one leg to get a foothold on the old window ledge.
CHAPTER XV
DISCOVERY AND EXPLORATION—AND WAR