The keenness of his senses had left him. He moved mechanically;
he knew what he was after, and he kept on. Yet he seemed largely
to have lost the power to realize the danger of his position.
A-a-ah! He was up there now, holding to the weathervane! His
legs curled doggedly around the flagstaff. He had need now to
use all the strength in his legs, for he must use one hand to
disentangle the black scarf, which lay twisted about the vane
just over his head. But it was the right scarf. The glint and
dazzle of the diamonds was in his eyes.
How the extreme end of that flag pole quivered. It seemed to
the boy as though the pole must bend and snap, what with the pressure
of the heavy wind and the weight of his body!
Slowly, laboriously, mechanically, like one in a trance, Dick
employed his left hand in patiently disentangling the black web
from the trap in which it had been caught.
At last the scarf was free. Most cautiously Dick lowered his
left hand, tucking the jeweled fabric carefully into the inner
pocket of his coat.
"I---I---guess---it safe---in there," he muttered, hardly
realizing that he was saying any thing.
Dave, from below, had looked on, fascinated. Now that he saw
the major part of the daring feat accomplished, Darrin did not
make the mistake of shouting any advice to his comrade. He knew
that any sudden shout might attract Prescott's attention in a
way to cause him to lose his head.
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