“You’ll want the longest ladder—the 65, for that, tomorrow.”
Philpot looked up at the gable.
It was very high.
Chapter 46
The “Sixty-five”
The next morning after breakfast, Philpot, Sawkins, Harlow and Barrington went to the Yard to get the long ladder—the 65—so called because it had sixty-five rungs. It was really what is known as a builder’s scaffold ladder, and it had been strengthened by several iron bolts or rods which passed through just under some of the rungs. One side of the ladder had an iron band or ribbon twisted and nailed round it spirally. It was not at all suitable for painters’ work, being altogether too heavy and cumbrous. However, as none of the others were long enough to reach the high gable at the Refuge, they managed, with a struggle, to get it down from the hooks and put it on one of the handcarts and soon passed through the streets of mean and dingy houses in the vicinity of the yard, and began the ascent of the long hill.
There had been a lot of rain during the night, and the sky was still overcast with dark grey clouds. The cart went heavily over the muddy road; Sawkins was at the helm, holding the end of the ladder and steering; the others walked a little further ahead, at the sides of the cart.
It was such hard work that by the time they were half-way up the hill they were so exhausted and out of breath that they had to stop for a rest.
“This is a bit of all right, ain’t it?” remarked Harlow as he took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.
While they rested they kept a good look out for Rushton or Hunter, who were likely to pass by at any moment.
At first, no one made any reply to Harlow’s observation, for they were all out of breath and Philpot’s lean fingers trembled violently as he wiped the perspiration from his face.