“No, you’re not either,” Hunt told him; “we can see how it is from up here better than you can. Do you slip? Look out!”
“I’m all right,” Warde said.
“Only don’t get reckless,” I said. “What’s the use of taking chances? I’m sorry you went down. If you can stand up maybe I can reach you.”
“What do you mean, reach me?” he said. “What do you suppose I came down here for?”
“You’re pretty game,” Westy said, “but look out.”
By that time Warde was on his hands and knees. He was keeping hold of the stuff that grew through the cracks and letting himself out toward the edge of the shelf. We all stood at the top watching him and we were pretty anxious.
I said, “Don’t turn around, go backward.”
“How am I going to see anything that way?” he called. “Whoa—a——” he said, and just then he let go one little clump of bush and grabbed another. It gave me the shudders.
“That was coming up,” he said.