Part 18 (1/2)
Swiftly the news spread, and a great crowd collected. Dave Darrin heard of it right after breakfast, and hurried to get d.i.c.k Prescott.
Together the chums joined the crowd.
”You'll have to get a steeplejack for the job, Mr. Macey,” the chums heard one man advise the real estate operator.
Only one was known. His home was some forty miles away. Mr.
Macey tried patiently to get the man over the long distance telephone.
Some member of the man's family answered for him. The expert was away, and would not be home, or available, for three days to come at least.
”Never mind, Macey,” laughed the friend, consolingly. ”It'll wait. No one in Gridley will take the scarf. It's safe up there.”
”Huh! Is it, though?” snorted the real estate man. ”At any minute the strong wind may unwind it and send it whirling off over the town. Or the gale may tear it to pieces, scattering the diamonds over a whole block, and not one in ten of the stones would ever be found.”
Mrs. Macey sat in the runabout, a picture of mute misery.
Herr Schimmelpodt elbowed his way through the outskirts of the crowd and stood absorbing his share in the local excitement.
”Ach! I am afraid dere is von thing dot you gan't do, Bresgott,”
smiled the German. ”Ach! By chimminy, though, I don't know yet.”
”I was wondering myself whether I could make a good try at steeple climbing,” laughed d.i.c.k eagerly. ”The money sounds good to me anyway.”
”No; I don't know. I think it would be foolish,” replied Herr Schimmelpodt.
”I believe you could get up there, d.i.c.k,” muttered Darrin, in a low voice.
”Then you could, Dave.”
”I think I could,” nodded Darrin. ”And, by crickets, if you were here, d.i.c.k, I'd certainly try it.”
”Try it anyway, then,” urged Prescott.
”Not unless you balk at it,” returned Darrin.
”I'm not going to balk at it,” retorted d.i.c.k, flus.h.i.+ng just a bit. ”But you spoke of it first, Dave, and I think you ought to have first chance at the reward.”
”Tell you what I'll do,” proposed Darrin, seriously. ”We'll toss for it, and the winner has the try.”
”I'll go you,” nodded Prescott.
Herr Schimmelpodt, regarding them both seriously, saw that they meant it.
”Boys, boys!” he remonstrated. ”Don't think of it yet!”
”Why not?” asked d.i.c.k.
”You would be killed,” remonstrated the big German.
”Is that the best opinion you have of us, after the way you've been praising us athletes for two years?” laughed Prescott.
”I'll toss you for it, d.i.c.k,” nudged Dave.