Oliver was in a bad fix, and his piteous mews as he clung to the pipe showed that he realized it. All his nine lives were in imminent danger. It would not have been so bad if he had had a ledge or projection to rest on until he could be rescued. But this was lacking, with the exception of the narrow ring less than an inch wide that encircled the pipe, and though his claws dug desperately against this it was certain that his strength would not enable him to maintain himself long in this position. There was a chorus of exclamations and suggestions from the young men who crowded the window. "Let's get a rope and a basket and let it down from the roof," suggested Tom Bradford. "That wouldn't do," objected Hal. "He'd be too frightened to get into it. He wouldn't let go his grip on the pipe." "Somebody get a ladder," cried Reddy. "We haven't one that would be long enough to reach him," said Bart. Frank's keen eyes and alert mind had been judging the situation. Now he spoke. "We can get him from that window, fellows," he said pointing to a window about six feet above the cat and a little to one side. "I don't know," said Bart, dubiously, as he eyed the window. "Seems to me like a forlorn hope. A fellow would have to have the arms of a gorilla to reach the cat from there." "Never mind about that," responded Frank. "Let's get up there quick and I'll show you what I have in mind." The crowd raced pell-mell up the stairs and then through an old storeroom on the upper floor until they reached the window. It had not been opened all winter, and had been so warped by sleet and snow that it yielded to the pressure of their arms groaningly and reluctantly. But at last, just when they were about ready to give up, they accomplished the feat and looked out. Oliver saw them and hailed them evidently as his last hope, for he broke into a storm of wails. "There," said Bart, regretfully. "I told you we'd be too far off to do him any good." He leaned out as far as he could without danger of falling, and the cat was still three feet at least from the tips of his outstretched fingers. "Nothing doing," he ejaculated as he withdrew from his vain effort. "There's just one chance," said Frank. "One of us fellows will have to hang out there head downward, his full length, while the rest grab him by the legs and hold on for dear life." "That sounds easy if you say it quick," cut in Reddy. "But who's going to be the goat?" "I am," said Frank, as he threw off his coat. "Oh come now, Frank!" expostulated Tom. "That's taking too big a risk. I hate to see the poor brute go down, but his life isn't worth yours." "Besides," put in Bart, "even if you got hold of Oliver he'd probably be so frightened that he'd claw your head off." "Cut out the talk, fellows," said Frank. "Bart, you and Tom hold on to one leg while Reddy and Hal grab the other."