A shout from the Duke hailed his arrival.
"Now comes the tug of war," said the Duke.
"He can never do it," said Barker confidently.
But Barker had underrated the extraordinary strength of the man against whom he was betting, and he did not know how often, when a boy, Claudius had climbed higher masts than those of the _Streak_.

The Doctor was one of those natural athletes whose strength does not diminish for lack of exercise, and large as he was, and tall, he was not so heavy as Barker thought.

Now he pulled the cap out of his pocket and held it between his teeth, as he gripped the smooth wood between his arms and hands and legs, and with firm and even motion he began to swarm up the bare pole.
"There--I told you so," said Barker.

Claudius had slipped nearly a foot back.
"He will do it yet," said the Duke, as the climber clasped his mighty hands to the mast.

He would not slip again, for his blood was up, and he could almost fancy his iron grip pressed deep into the wood.