"He won't do it." "Wait a bit," said Vince, and he swung the hook upward.

There was a click, and it stayed just within the crack; while the lad laughed.
"Now," he cried, "can't I do it ?" "No!" said Mike triumphantly, for at the first jerk of the rope the iron fell back into the sand.
"You don't know how to throw a grapnel," said Mike, picking up the rope.
"There, stand aside and I'll show you." Vince drew back, and after a good deal of swinging, Mike launched the grapnel upward, so that it passed right into the hole some distance from the length of rope which followed; then came a click, and the rope hung swinging from the sloping roof.
"There!" cried Mike.
"It'll come away as soon as you pull it." Mike gave the rope a tug, then a sharp jerk, and another, before, raising his hands and grasping it as high as he could, he took a run, and then, raising his legs, let himself swing to and fro.
"Bear anything," he cried.

"There, you'd better go first." "You fastened it," said Vince, "so you've got first go." "No, it was your idea.

Up with you! but you've scared the pigeons away." Vince seized the rope as high as he could reach, twisted it about his leg, pressing the strong strands against his calf with the edge of his shoe-sole, and then began to climb slowly, drawing himself up by the muscular strength of his arms, while the rope began to revolve with him slowly.
"Meat's burning," cried Mike, grinning.

"Wants basting;" and he picked up handsful of sand to scatter over the climber's back.
But Vince was too busy to heed his interruption, and by trying hard he soon drew himself right into the narrow crack, and the next minute only his boots were visible, and they were drawn out of sight directly after.
"Well ?" cried Mike; "what have you found ?" "Grapnel," panted Vince; for climbing a single thin rope is hard work.
"Yes, but what else ?" "Big crack, which goes right in.