Mr. Hawkins' Humorous Adventures Part 36

"Two--tons--nut!"

"Ah, there she goes again!" said the inventor rapturously.

This time the Crano-Scale executed a sudden detour before descending.

Indeed, the thing came so painfully near to our perch that the wind was perceptible, and when the giant coal-scuttle had pa.s.sed and dropped, my heart was hammering out a tattoo.

"I don't believe this ledge is safe, Hawkins," I said.

"Nonsense."

"But that thing came pretty close."

"Oh, it won't act that way again. Watch! She's dumping into the wagon now! Hear it?"

"Yes, I hear it. I see just what a beautiful success it is, Hawkins--really. Let's go."

"And now she's coming back!" cried the inventor, his eyes glued to the remarkable contrivance. "Observe the ease--the grace--the mechanical poise--the resistless quality of the Crano-Scale's motion! See, Griggs, how she swings!"

I did see how she was swinging. It was precisely that which sent me nearer to the ladder.

The Crano-Scale was returning to position, but with a series of erratic swoops that seemed to close my throat.

The coal-scuttle whirled joyously about in the air--it was receding--no, it was coming nearer! It paused for a second. Then, making a bee-line for our little ledge, it dived through the air toward us.

"Look out, there, Hawkins!" I cried, hastily.

"It's all right," said the inventor.

"But the cursed thing will smash us flat against the wall!"

"Tus.h.!.+ The automatic reacting clutch will----"

The Crano-Scale was upon us! For the merest fraction of a second it paused and seemed to hesitate; then it struck the wall with a heavy bang; then started to sc.r.a.pe its way along our ledge.

The wretched contraption was bent on shoving us off!

"What will we do?" I managed to shout.

"Why--why--why--why--why----" Hawkins cried breathlessly.

But, my course of action had been settled for me. The scoop of the Crano-Scale caught me amids.h.i.+ps, and I plunged downward into the coal.

That there was a considerable degree of shock attached to my landing may easily be imagined.

But small coal, as I had not known before, is a reasonably soft thing to fall on; and within a few seconds I sat up, perceived that I was soon to order a new suit of clothes, and then looked about for Hawkins.

He was nowhere in the neighborhood, and I called aloud.

"We--ll?" came a voice from far above.

"Where are you?"

"Hanging--to--the--scoop!" sang out the inventor.

And there, up near the roof, I located him, dangling from the Crano-Scale coal-scuttle!

"What are you going to do next?" I asked, with some interest.

"I--I--I can't--can't hang on long here!"

"I should say not."

"Well, climb out and tell them to lower the crane!" screamed Hawkins.

I looked around. Right and left, before and behind, rose a mountain of loose coal. I essayed to climb nimbly toward the door which the Crano-Scale had used, and suddenly landed on my hands and knees.

"Are--you--out?" shrieked Hawkins. "I can't stick here!"

"And I can't get out!" I replied.

"Well, you--ouch!"

There was a dull, rattling whack beside me; bits of coal flew in all directions. Hawkins had landed.

"Well!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "I honestly believe, Griggs, that no man was ever born on this earth with less resourcefulness than yourself!"

"Which means that I should have climbed out and informed the people of your plight?"

"Certainly."

"Well, you try it yourself, Hawkins."

The inventor arose and started for the door with a very convincing and elaborate display of indomitable energy. He planted his left foot firmly on the side of the coal pile--and found that his left leg had disappeared in the coal in a highly astonis.h.i.+ng and undignified fas.h.i.+on.

"Humph!" he remarked disgustedly, struggling free and shaking something like a pound of coal dust from his person. "Perhaps--perhaps it's more solid on the other side."

"Try it."

"Well, it is better to try it and fail than to stand there like a cigar-store Indian and offer fool suggestions!" snapped the inventor, making a vicious attack at the opposite side of the pile.

It really did seem more substantial. Hawkins, by the aid of both hands, both feet, his elbows, his knees, and possibly his teeth as well, managed to scramble upward for a dozen feet or so.

But just as he was about to turn and gloat over his success, the treacherous coal gave way once more. Hawkins went flat upon his face and slid back to me, feet first.

When he arose he presented a remarkable appearance.

Light overcoat, pearl trousers, fancy vest--all were black as ink.

Hawkins' cla.s.sic countenance had fared no better. His lips showed some slight resemblance of redness, and his eyes glared wonderfully white; but the rest of his face might have been made up for a minstrel show.