The Pony Rider Boys in the Ozarks | Page 9

small tree there with the rope, and pay it out carefully, so that I can lower myself safely. Don't give me too much rope at one time, you know."
"No," chuckled Ned. "You know what they say happens to people who have too much rope."
"You mean?"
"That they usually hang themselves."
Tad laughed softly.
"Please call that lazy Indian over here and set him to work. Little does he care what trouble we're in. See, he's asleep against a tree now."
"Yes, his head would fall off if it were not nailed fast to him," added Ned, striding to the Shawnee and giving him a violent shake. "Wake up, you sleepy head!" shouted Ned in a voice that brought the Indian quickly to his feet.
"Come over here, Eagle-eye. You're wanted," called Walter.
"Put the Indian on the end of the rope; and, Professor, you please take a hold nearest to the tree. You'll be my salvation. The rest of you, except Chunky, can stand between the Professor and Eagle-eye."
They took their places as directed, while Tad straightened out the rope until it extended to the edge of the cliff.
"What do you want me to do? Have I got to stand here and look on?" demanded Stacy.
"No, Chunky. You may run the signal tower," laughed Tad.
"What's that? I don't see any such thing around here?"
"You are it."
"What? I'm what?" answered the fat boy, plainly puzzled.
"You are the signal tower in this case. That is, you will stand here and watch me. When I give a signal you will receive and pass it on to the others."
"What kind of signals?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, if you will give me the chance. When I hold up my hand, it means that they are to stop letting out rope. When I move it up and down, it means they are to let out on the rope a little. Understand?"
"Oh, yes; that's easy. When they shake their hand, it means you want to go up or down," exclaimed the lad enthusiastically.
"O Chunky, you're hopeless. No, no! Nothing of the kind. Listen. When I move my hand up and down, just like this--Understand?"
"Sure."
"That means I want to go down further. They don't wave their hands at all, at least I hope they don't while I am hanging in the air. Now, do you think you understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Repeat the directions to me then, please."
Stacy did so.
"That's right. See that you don't forget. Remember, I'm depending upon you, Chunky, and if you fail me, I may be killed."
"Don't you worry about me, Tad," answered Stacy, swelling with pride because of the responsibility that had been placed upon his plump shoulders. "I can make motions as well as anybody. Eagle-eye, tend to business over there. Get hold of that rope. Twist it around your arm. There, that's right."
"Hear, hear!" cried the boys.
Such self-confidence they had never observed in their companion before. And then again, they were trying to be as jolly as possible, that they might not give too much thought to the seriousness of the undertaking before them.
"Chunky's coming into his own," muttered Ned. "He'll be wanting to thrash some of us next. See if he doesn't."
"I think I am all ready now," announced Tad, casting a critical glance at the men holding the rope, then taking a careful survey of the depths below him.
He was standing on the very edge of the cliff, a position that would have made the average person dizzy. Yet it seemed to have no effect at all on Tad Butler.
He motioned for them to let out a little rope.
"More rope!" bellowed Stacy.
"All right, Captain," jeered Ned. "Better port your helm, though, or the rope will give you a side wipe and take you along over with Tad."
Stacy quickly changed his position, which Tad had intended telling him to do.
Without another word Tad sat down with his feet dangling over, then crawled cautiously down the steep wall. For a short distance he was able to do this without depending on the rope, Stacy in the meanwhile lying flat on his stomach, peering down and passing on the signals to those holding the rope.
Now Tad came to a piece of rock that was straight up and down and perfectly smooth. He motioned for them to lower him slowly, which they did until the boy's feet once more touched a solid footing.
He carefully settled down until he was in a sitting posture. He was on a narrow, shelving rock, and there he remained for a few moments to rest, for the trip thus far had been exceedingly trying.
"The water's fine, Chunky," he called up cheerfully.
"The water's fine," bellowed Chunky, glaring at his companions. Then a sheepish grin spread over his countenance when he realized what he had said. "I mean, that's what Tad called," he explained, amid a