"'Fraid we can't. If there was only something for us to hold on to we could lift a good deal more; but there isn't."
"Not a thing. And if we lift another pound we'll pull ourselves into the street and break our necks. What shall we do?"
"Don—don't leave me," implored Teddy, with just a suspicion of a whimper in his voice. "Wish I'd never heard of the sign. It's my last sign if I ever get down."
"We'll get you down some way, Ted," answered Tom. "Just you keep a stiff upper lip."
"I—I am," returned Teddy. "But I can't hang much longer. Feel like I was going to die, or something."
Just then distant footsteps were heard on the sidewalk.
"Ssh!" said Phil. "Somebody's coming. Get in the doorway, you fellows down there."
Joe and Fred obeyed, and the footsteps came nearer.
"That's Billy's walk, for sure," whispered Tom. "Can't fool me on that. Lie down, Phil," and the two boys flattened out on the ledge.
Poor Teddy could do nothing but hang, as if he were a sign put out in front of a store where small boys were kept for sale. Nearer and nearer came the footsteps, till they were almost in front of the building. Then there was a sudden stumble, a smothered ejaculation, and a man fell full length on the walk, while something which showed a little point of light went rolling along the walk. It was Billy, and he had fallen over the sign, and his dark-lantern had rolled away. The boys all had hard work to keep from laughing, except Teddy.