He went up for five or six feet, but found it harder work than he expected. He stopped and rested a moment, then struggled on. This he did twice, feeling his hold weakening all the while. The last time he stopped he looked down. It seemed a long ways. His hold suddenly grew still weaker, and he slid back and rolled over on the ground.
"Are you hurt, Ted?" anxiously inquired the other boys.
"Of course not," answered Teddy, impatiently. "Came down to rest and put a little dust on my hands," and he went out into the street and spatted his palms on the ground.
"We ought to had Tom Ketcham along," said Joe, when Teddy came back. "He's a bully climber."
"Oh, pshaw!" said Ted. "If Tom Ketcham can climb any better'n I can I'd like to know it. Just watch me now;" and he started up again.
Thanks to the street dust or to a determination to show Joe that he was as good a climber as Tommy, he managed to get up this time and wriggle in on the cornice, which made a sort of ledge behind the sign. He loosened the iron on that end of the sign, and walked cautiously along, taking a piece of clothes-line out of his pocket, with which he intended to lower it. Just then footsteps were heard approaching.
"Billy's coming!" cried Fred, in a hoarse half-whisper, and he and Joe started down the street.
"Hold on there!" called Teddy to the younger boys, in a fierce tone. "Get in the doorway and keep still."
The others obeyed, and Ted himself lay down on the ledge behind the sign and flattened out as much as possible. It proved to be only a man on his way home, and he passed without seeing the boys.