CHAPTER XXXIII
FROGS AND HATS
One by one we let ourselves down that rope. The only hard part was keeping hold where it went over the edge of the slanting shelf. The cliff was sheer up and down just like Warde had said. But that was the end of our troubles with Nature. Gee whiz, I can get along with Nature all right, but when it comes to farmers—just you wait.
We were mighty glad to see Warde all safe and sound. I said, “Warde, you’re the gamest scout that ever lived, but you’re reckless. If we had stopped to think we would never have let you go down on that shelf.”
He said, “I’m not a scout yet, remember.”
“Remember nothing,” I told him. “If you keep on, and live through it, I’ll have an Eagle Scout in my patrol, I can see that.”
“You’re never killed till you’re killed,” Warde said.