“Yes, where do we go?” the scout master laughed.
“Right over to the next ledge,” said Bennie, pointing to another ledge, on the same level, about ten feet away, with next to nothing but bare cliff between.
“Oh, do we!” said Billy.
“Sure,” Bennie replied. “This is a traverse. That’s what you call ’em, isn’t it, Mr. Rogers?”
“Sure, it’s a traverse all right. I don’t like the looks of it, either.”
“Same here,” said Tom. “Gosh, if you slipped getting over there—good night!”
He looked down the sheer hundred foot drop, and pulled back quickly.
But Bennie already had the rope pulled up, and one end around his body, under his arms, again.
“Here, Mr. Rogers,” he said, giving the scout master the coil. “You take a brace and play me out. I’ll get the rope over to the other ledge, and tie one end there, and then you can put it ’round the tree, and throw me the other end. Then you’ll all have a railing to cross with.”
Mr. Rogers looked worried. “Now, go slow and watch your step, Bennie,” he cautioned. “Here, Spider, take hold of this rope behind me, so two of us’ll have a grip.”