“He thinks he’s smart,” he said contemptuously. “He’s always liked to walk on roofs and act silly goat that way.” He raised his voice. “Laurie!”
Laurie gave a start. “Yes?” he answered. Then—well, then everything happened all at once and with incredible speed. They saw Laurie grasp suddenly at the leaning tree, saw him miss it, saw one foot disappear over the edge in a tiny cloud of brown dust, and then, in almost the same instant, Laurie just wasn’t there!
CHAPTER XII
ON THE QUARRY SHELF
There was an instant of incredulous horror on the cliff top. Then Polly’s smothered gasp broke the silence, and the two boys were on their feet. Short of the edge, Ned faltered for a moment, sick and trembling, and it was Bob who crouched on hands and knees and looked first down the steeply sloping face of rock. Beside him the earth was still trickling where Laurie’s unwary foot had broken off an overhanging crust.
For a second Bob’s gaze, fearfully searching the rocky débris far below, saw nothing. Then came a sharp cry of relief from Ned, who had now dropped beside him, and at the same moment Bob’s gaze, retraveling the face of rock, fell on Laurie.
About thirty feet below them he was, his feet set on a shelf scarcely four inches wide, his right hand stretched high and its fingers hooked over a still narrower ledge, his left hand flung outward, its palm pressed against the smooth surface. His head leaned against the raised shoulder, his forehead close to the rock. Viewed from below the quarry face looked perpendicular, as, indeed, it was farther around where the height was less, but here there was a perceptible slope, slight but sufficient to have saved Laurie from a headlong plunge to the strewn fragments at the base. His cap was gone and the miniature landslide had powdered his head and shoulders with red dust.
“Laurie!” called Ned tremulously.
For a space there was no answer. Then Laurie’s voice reached them, weak and muffled. “Yeah?”
He didn’t raise his face.