“It’s too stiff—it’s like a piece o’ wood,” Spider complained. “Guess it isn’t much like the braided ropes Alpine climbers use. What are we going to do about it?”
“Ask Mr. Rogers,” said Bennie. “We haven’t told him about it yet, anyhow. Come on. Wait a minute, though. No use getting any more questions fired at us.”
He took one end of the rope and pulled the other end down over the beam. Then, while Spider played it out, he spun around and wound it around his body. After that, he put on his mackinaw.
“You look ’s if you weighed about two hundred,” Spider laughed.
“I feel like Houdini,” said Bennie.
They found the scout master at home, and told him their plans, and about the rope. He laughed, and grabbing the loose end, spun Bennie around like a top, while he unwound it.
“The first thing to do is to wrap a piece of twine around both ends, so it won’t unravel,” he said, “and then boil it for a day in your mother’s wash boiler—if she’ll let you.”
“Will you go with us Saturday?”
“Sure thing. But let’s take a couple more of the troop along. Not a lot. It may be dangerous. We’ll take Billy Vance and Tom Shields, eh? They are strong and careful.”
“Well, not any more,” said Bennie. “Gee whiz, we don’t want to let ’em all in on this right off the bat.”