I said kind of frightened like, “Did he say he was going to fall—the kid? Did he say that?” I guess I was trembling all over. “I heard him call he was coming down,” I said.
“That wasn’t him,” the man said. “Keep back.”
But a lot I cared what he told me to do. He waved his hand for me to keep back but I didn’t pay any attention. Geee whiz, he didn’t own the place and wasn’t Pee-wee my friend. Maybe you’d never think so, the way we were always at it, but just the same he was. I kneeled down and crept up to the edge and looked over. The tree was sticking out maybe about ten feet down. It was all rocky there and the tree was growing out from between rocks.
I called out and said, “Hey kid, they’re ready to catch you down there, so don’t be scared.” But all the while I knew they’d be mighty lucky if they could just catch him.
Just then I saw a head down there in the tree and then that fellow, Daraway Bravado or whatever they called him, crawled out from all that bunch of leaves and branches. There was blood trickling down his face. He was right close in by the precipice—I guess he was standing on the trunk of the tree.
“Is it solid?” the man called down to him.
“Yep, guess so,” he answered back.
I asked something but they didn’t pay any attention to me. I had to look way over to see that boy. I was lying down flat looking way over. I could hear the fellows down on the bottom calling but the young man up near me didn’t seem to hear them—anyway he didn’t bother with them. That moving picture boy, the way it seemed to me, he was standing on the trunk close in and his two arms were tight around a crooked rock that stuck out. I didn’t see how he could hold on to it, that’s the way it looked to me. But anyway he did. I heard him say, “Come on, and be careful.”
Then I saw Pee-wee—jiminies, he looked terrible! He was all blood and his clothes were torn and his face was white.
