"Never thought of that," he said disgustedly. He stretched his head back until he could see the shelf. Then, "It's a cinch," he affirmed. "You'll have to get the rope free first, though, and ease up on it until I can get my feet back on the ledge. Can you do it?"
"Have to," answered the other cheerfully. Cautiously he and Ned untied the rope from about the tree, gave it some three inches of slack, retied it, and set to work at the edge of the cliff. Or, rather, Bob worked, for Ned's hands trembled so that he couldn't. The rope was fast in a jagged-edged notch of the rock, and Bob's only implement, his pocket-knife, was somewhat inadequate. But he made it do. Using the handle like a tiny hammer, he chipped and chipped until finally the rope began to slip downward and Laurie's weight rested again on the ledge. The end about the tree was unfastened; the rope was lifted from the channel it had dug through the overlying soil and carried a yard to the left. Then, with Ned and Bob and Polly holding it, their heels dug firmly into the sod, Laurie began his journey.
It was slow work at first, for his nerves and
