But Gizzard, too, had observed the pitchy darkness ahead. He, also, had felt the draft of hot stuffy air that rushed out at the opening of the hatchway. "I'm follerin' all right, ain't I?" he demanded with equal courtesy. "Yes, but I don't want--" "Well, go on, then!" He caught Sube by the shoulder and gave him a forceful but friendly shove towards the ladder. Sube placed a tentative foot on the bottom rung and then turned back most considerately. "But I don't want to hog the lead all the time," he explained courteously. However, Gizzard was not to be outdone in politeness. He urged Sube forward with the most elegant sort of gruffness. "Get up that there ladder!" he ordered. "I'm right on your heels!" Sube submitted to the inevitable and took the lead. Once in the loft he was able to discern another ladder. At the top of this was a third. Then followed several more. At last came another hatchway that opened into the blessed daylight, and the bell chamber itself. The boys were amazed at the size of the bell. "It's bigger'n all outdoors with the lawn around it!" exclaimed Gizzard with an expression akin to awe. "S'pose we can ever ring it? If we can't we might as well be gettin' out of here." "'Course we can ring it," was Sube's withering response; but at the same time he made a mental reservation. "I s'pose we could swing that dinger back and forth if we couldn't do nothin' else," Gizzard admitted resignedly. On concluding their examination of the bell they discovered that they were very high up in the air. The location of various points of interest occupied them for perhaps half an hour, and then time began to drag. It seemed a lifetime before darkness came, and meanwhile, the shouts of boys playing ball in a vacant lot not far away floated up to them with peculiar distinctness; and an outraged feeling in the place where the stomach was supposed to be, reminded them that supper-time had passed and they had failed to perform the customary epicurean exercises. Gizzard was inclined to complain. He could think of lots of other things that would have been more fun. But Sube realized that it was too late to back out, and he bolstered up his ebbing courage by talking of the glory of achievement. "Won't the other kids open their eyes, though, when they hear this ol' bell go boom--boo-oo-oo-oom! And won't they sit up and beg when they find out we're the ones who pulled it off!" But Gizzard would not be comforted. "That's all right," he admitted, "only I wisht I was home in the pantry with a big bowl of bread and milk in front of me, and a piece of--" "Yes, and how'd you like to have all the kids callin' you 'Quitter' and tellin' you to go play with Biscuit Westfall?" "You don't think I'm goin' to quit now, do you?" muttered Gizzard peevishly. "Can't I talk about some'pm to eat without goin' home to get it? Cer'nly I can!" "Well, don't let's talk about it, anyway," was Sube's conciliatory reply. "I'm hungry enough as it is--"