His back was toward us so he couldn't see the jacket, but the rest of us saw that it wasn't within his reach. When Westy threw it, it went maybe within two feet of Warde's hand and then fell dangling against the cliff. "Let's tie two jackets together by the sleeves," Hunt said. "He wouldn't dare let go to catch hold of it," I told him. "Can't you see he's hanging on with both hands and feet now? He can't afford to take any more chances; it's bad enough already." "_Watch your step, don't move_," Westy called down. "If you've got a firm hold hang on; don't try to look over. Give us a chance to think." Warde called, "Wait till I see how it is below and maybe you won't have to bother to think. Maybe I can go down all right." "That fellow's game," Westy said. "Safety first," I called. "You're in a pretty bad place, Warde. You can see better how it is up here. You hang on with both hands and feet and give us a chance to think. Don't get excited. We don't care anything about the hike now." "All right, go on home," he called. "I'm going to see whether we can climb down here or not." "He'll make a scout," Dorry said. "If he lives to take the oath," Westy said. All of a sudden Warde moved. I don't know whether he slid or moved on purpose. Anyway there was a little clump of bush in his hand. He threw it away and clutched the ground in another place. That brought his head to the edge of the shelf. Jiminies, my heart was just pounding in my throat. The palms of my hands were all wet, even. None of us spoke. One more move and he'd be over the edge. I wanted to call and ask him how it was below, but I sort of felt that even my voice might start him moving again. He was way out of reach of us now, right on the very edge, and we knew that his life depended on how the land was below him. Because one thing sure, he couldn't come back. Just then he slipped ever so little and I could see his knees and feet pressing the weeds between them tight, just as if his legs were a vice. I just couldn't call and ask him how the land was down there. Pretty soon he spoke. His voice sounded just the same as usual even though it was a kind of death sentence he was saying. "It's straight up and down," he said. "How far?" I called. My own voice sounded strange to me. "'Bout seventy or eighty feet," he said; "maybe a hundred. I can't tell exactly." Then he seemed to move again but maybe I only thought so because I was so excited. "Hang on," I said. That was all I could say. "I will," he said. "But so long, if I don't see you again." CHAPTER XXIX THE LAST HOPE "_Hang on and don't move_," one of the fellows called to him. "The hike is off. You just _hang on_. You haven't got another inch to move in. Don't look around even." I don't know who it was that called, all I know is it was one of us. "What can we do?" I said. Westy said, "Let's take off our stockings and tie them together." "Good idea," Hunt said. "_Look_--he's moving again."