"Le--let the r-rope down," he said faintly.
The girl obeyed.
Ned shinned it with little difficulty, Tom Phipps insisting that the
lad should precede him, though Ned wanted him to go first.
Tad was on his feet again.
"Can you make it?" he called down.
"I don't know. I'm going to make a big attempt at it," answered the
miner. They heard the rope creak and knew that he had thrown his
weight upon it.
"I'm afraid I can't get all the way up. My arms are giving out," they
heard him gasp.
"Don't let go! Don't let go!"
"I'm afraid I can't help it, my muscles won't stand the strain."
"Twist the rope about one leg and rest. You can hang there all day if
you'll do that," snapped Tad. "How is it!"
"Yes, that works fine. My arms are all a-tremble. I didn't suppose I
was so weak?"
"You are not used to it, that's all. That's right; come along. I'll
strike a match to light the way."
Little by little and with frequent rests, Tom worked his way up and up
until within reach of Tad's strong arm. The lad grasped him by the
coat collar and pulled him clear of the hole, dropping him flat on his
back safe and sound on the rock where he had previously dumped Walter.
"Good gracious!" breathed Mr. Phipps. "Boy, you must be made of cast
iron. You--you pulled me up here with one hand."
"You're here, that's all we need worry about just now," answered Tad,
breathing heavily.
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