The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 19

CHAPTER XVIII.

BETWEEN EARTH AND SKY.

But no such sound came. Instead they heard something that brought them instantly to the alert.

"Hey, fellows! Come quick!"

It was Rob's voice, coming up to them over the edge of that dizzy height.

In three bounds, careless of the consequences of a false step, they were on the parapet of the tower where they had last seen Rob, as he reached out for the treacherous "flag pole."

"Look, boys! Look! There he is! Hold on, Rob, old fellow. Hold on, for heaven's sake," cried Merritt.

Rob, his feet dug into the rough interstices of the old ruinous wall, was clinging to a stoutly rooted bush that had broken his fall and given him one second in which to stay his awful plunge into s.p.a.ce. But his position even now was bad enough.

His face was as white as chalk, and the sweat streamed down it in rivers as he gazed up at his comrades above. He was fully thirty feet below them, and they had no rope, no means of saving him from his fearful position! In the very nature of things his muscles, strong as they were, were bound to give out before long. It was not in flesh and blood to endure such a tension long; and then---- But they dared not think of that.

It was a moment for quick action and nimble wits. The shrub to which Rob was clinging appeared to be firmly rooted. In fact, it must have been, to have withstood the strain of his cras.h.i.+ng fall. Then, too, his toes were driven home into a crack of the wall, relieving to some extent the weight brought to bear on the shrub. But this could not last indefinitely.

Suddenly Merritt noticed something. Just above the place where Rob clung to the wall, a hundred feet above the waving banana fronds, was an opening. As he saw this a sudden idea struck him. He thought he saw a way, a desperate way, it is true, but still a way to rescue Rob from his perilous position.

"How long can you hold on, Rob?" he called down.

"Not much longer I'm afraid," came back in a voice that could hardly have been recognized as Rob's, "can't you get a rope?"

Merritt shook his head. He knew that a search for such an article would take too much precious time.

"No; but you hold on, old chap. Keep up a good heart and we'll get you out of that, never fear."

Turning to his companions he hastily explained his plan. An instant later the three Scouts were rus.h.i.+ng down the crazy stone staircase headed for the opening above Rob. As soon as they reached it Merritt peered out. Rob was still there, but he looked up appealingly at his chum. Merritt knew what the look meant. Rob couldn't hold on much longer, but dared not waste breath in speaking.

"Now, then, fellows," spoke Merritt, turning to his chums, "what we're going to do is easy enough if you keep cool; but if you get rattled it may fail."

"We'll keep cool all right, Merritt," Fred a.s.sured him, though his breath was coming fast.

As for Tubby, his countenance did not betray the flicker of a muscle.

Merritt knew he could rely on the fat boy, but of Fred's more emotional nature he had not been quite so sure.

Suddenly his eye caught sight of something that would make his task easier. In the wall of the opening was a big, rusty iron staple. What its former use had been there was no means of guessing; but Merritt regarded it with delight. It made the daring thing he was about to attempt a little more certain of success.

"Tubby, you just hook your belt through that staple," he ordered, "and then hang on to Fred's feet for all you are worth. Fred, you lie down right here,--with your hands just at the edge,--that's right."

The boys obeyed Merritt's orders, but Tubby looked at him with apprehension.

"You'll never do it," he quavered.

"Nonsense, of course I will, if you fellows carry out your part. It's nothing more than wall scaling, only we're doing it the other way round."

When all was ready Tubby was lying flat with his belt hooked through the iron staple. He had fast hold of Fred's ankles, while the latter's hands came just to the edge of the opening. Merritt was to form the last link in this human chain that was to rescue Rob Blake, if such a thing was possible.

Merritt had already seen that the bush to which Rob clung was not more than four feet below the opening. His daring plan was to lower himself,--with Fred clinging to his ankles,--till he could reach Rob's hands and help him up to safety.

Without a word Merritt threw himself on his stomach, after taking off his coat and hat, and wriggled to the edge. One look at Rob's upturned face told him that he had no time to lose. Seconds, yes, fractions of seconds, would count now.

"Catch hold, Fred!"

Fred gripped the daring Scout's ankles tightly.

"Now hang on like grim death."

Merritt clenched his teeth and slowly wriggled his way over the edge.

Hanging head downward he extended his hands toward the shrub where Rob was clinging.

"Hold on for your lives!" he shouted to those above, and then to Rob:--

"Let go with one hand and grab my right wrist, Rob."

For an instant Rob hesitated. He _dared_ not let go. But again came Merritt's voice. This time it was sharp and imperative.

"Let go and grab me!"

Rob's grip with his left was relaxed and he seized Merritt's wrist, giving it a jerk that almost pulled his arm out of the socket. For an instant his heart was in his mouth. If the boys above weren't strong enough to hold them, they would both be dashed downward to the ground that looked so fearfully far below. But both Tubby and Fred were heavy youths, and then, too, the belt that was looped through that accommodating iron staple was an anchor in itself.

There was a slight give and a sag, but the "human chain" held.

"Now the other hand," ordered Merritt, drawing a breath of relief.

Rob obeyed instantly this time. But he was a fairly heavy youth and it was a good thing that he could take part of the weight off his rescuer's arms by digging his toes into the cracks of the ruinous tower. Otherwise this story might have had a different ending.

"Now, Rob, use me as a ladder. Don't look down for heaven's sake, but reach up and grab my belt. Use the cracks in the wall like the rungs of a ladder and clamber up."

"Let me rest a minute. I'm winded and dizzy," breathed Rob, whose nerve was badly shaken.

"Not a minute. Go on now!"

Merritt spoke sharply purposely. Rob rallied and did as he was told. He seized Merritt's belt as the other boy hung head downward, and, digging his toes into the cracks of the wall, he drew himself up till he could, with his other hand, lay hold of the edge of the opening. After this it was an easy matter, thanks to the ruinous condition of the wall which offered plenty of foothold, to clamber to safety. Reaching it, Rob lay back white and panting.

But in a few seconds he was able to help his chums haul the courageous Merritt out of danger.

It was some time before they felt able to leave the ruined tower, such a bad shaking up had all their nerves received; but at last a move was made. Needless to say, the Scout totems were not flung to the breeze that day.

"I don't see how we ever did it," exclaimed Fred, as they reached the ground and Tubby began taking pictures of the tower while the others looked up at the spot where Rob had clung in such dire peril.

"I guess 'being prepared,' having good, healthy muscles and all that had a whole heap to do with it," said Tubby, snapping his shutter; "and now let's get a move on and get back to dinner, or second breakfast, as they call it here. I don't know how you fellows feel, but I'm one aching void."