Then Prescott followed.
"Give me one foot," called Dave, kneeling and making a cup of
his hands.
Dick placed his foot, then started to climb the sloping surface
of slate, Darrin aiding.
As Dave straightened to a standing position Dick reached up, getting
hold of the base of the flagstaff.
"Hold on there, a minute," advised Dave, as his chum stood on
the little ledge at the top of the spire. "And don't be foolish
enough to look down into the street."
Dave darted inside, picking up the lighter of the ropes. Going
out on the balcony again Darrin tossed one end of the rope to
Dick, who made it fast around the flagpole.
Using the rope, Dave went easily up and stood beside Prescott.
"There is a fearful wind here," muttered Dick, as both swayed
while holding to the stout, vibrating mast. "But you can make
it, old fellow."
It had been the original intention in building the church to use
this mast as a flag pole. Then some doubt had arisen among the
members of the parish. A weather vane had been put at the top
of the pole, and the question of connecting flag tackle had been
left to be decided at a later date.
Had the flag tackle been there now Dick could have made an easier
problem of the ascent; yet, even with the rope, it would have
been an undertaking from which most men would have shrunk.
"I'm going to start now," said Dick very quietly.
"Good luck, Dick, old fellow!" called Dave cheerily.
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