TAD IN DANGER
It was high noon before, satisfied to repletion, they leaned back
against the big Rock and viewed apathetically the scattered remains
of the feast. The remains weren’t many, however. A five mile walk on
a crisp October morning is calculated to produce a very gluttonish
appetite, and even the twins had surpassed themselves. Tad, watching
them alarmedly, had feared that they would become ‘bored!’
“Someone,” he murmured sleepily, “ought to clear up that mess. You’re
nearest to it, Rod.”
“Lazy duffer!” murmured Rod, depositing with an effort a crumpled
wad of napkin and a banana peel in one of the cracker boxes and then
subsiding again.
“Don’t overtax your strength,” warned Tad. The twins giggled. Kitty,
alone of the five, seemed unaffected by the general lassitude. He
sat erect and blinked solemnly at the autumn world as though planning
new feats of pedestrianism. Rodney, watching him lazily, expected any
moment to see him jump up and stride off toward the horizon. Presently
Tad, who had apparently gone to sleep, broke the silence.
“There was a young fellow named Tad,
A worthy and excellent lad,
He went off with a bunch
And ate too much lunch,
And the fate of that Tad lad was sad.”
Matty sat up and clapped her hands. “Let’s all do it! Let’s all make
limericks. You make the next one, Rod.”
“Too full for utterance,” muttered Rodney.
“Please try. Then Phineas will and――――”
There was a choking gurgle from Tad. Matty observed him inquiringly.
“Nothing,” he murmured. “I――I was just laughing at something funny.”
“Now,” continued Matty, wrinkling her forehead, “we’ll be very quiet
while everyone composes.”
“I,” remarked Tad, “shall compose myself to slumber.”
“Here’s mine,” announced Rodney. “There was――――”
“Oh, wait a minute,” exclaimed May. “Let’s give a prize for the best
one! Shall we?”
“What’s the prize?” asked Tad. May looked about in search of it.
“Banana skin,” suggested Rodney.
“No, a beautiful silver cup,” replied May, “engraved with the winner’s
name.”
“Where do we get the cup?”
“Right here.” May picked up one of the tin cups and flourished it.
“How beautiful!” murmured Tad, seeking a more comfortable position for
his head. “I’ll take it now, please.”
“Indeed you won’t!” said Matty. “You wait until we’ve said our verses.
Now go ahead, Rod, please.”
“I guess I’ve forgotten it now,” replied Rodney, wrinkling his brow.
“No, I haven’t. Here it is:
“There was a young fellow named Mudge
Who tried up a steep hill to trudge,
He fell on his back
With a horrible _crack_,
And was heard to exclaim, ‘Oh fudge!’”
The twins clapped loudly, but Tad said it was a perfectly rotten
limerick.
“Better than yours, though,” laughed Rodney.
“Nothing of the sort! Mine was an exceptionally fine example of the
art of――ah――composition. Mine had――had poetic qualities. Hand over the
prize, _if_ you please!”
“I’ve got one,” announced Kitty somberly. “It isn’t very good, though.”
He blinked about the circle, and Matty murmured that she was sure it
would be a very nice one indeed.
“There was a boy named Merrill
Who climbed up a rock like a squirrel――――”
Kitty paused there, whether to receive applause for the ingenuity of
the rhyme or to grope for the rest of the verse they didn’t know. The
twins, however, encouraged him with expressions of delight, and after a
moment he continued:
“And when he was on top
Of the very big rock
He shouted aloud in his peril!”
Kitty finished with a flourish and beamed self-approval. The applause
was deafening. Tad said it was magnificent.
“Now it’s up to you girls,” said Rodney.
“I’m ready,” replied May. “Are you, Matty?”
“Yes, but you go ahead, May.”
“Well.” May took a long breath, fixed her eyes on the edge of the
horizon and began:
“There was a young lady named Matty
Who left home looking very natty――――”
“May Binner!” interrupted the subject of her poetic effusion, “if you
use ‘fatty’ I――I’ll――――”
“Not going to,” replied May triumphantly.
“But when she got back
She had torn her new sack,
And her mother said, ‘My, you look ratty!’”
“Clever but inelegant,” remarked Tad.
“I don’t think ‘ratty’ is a very nice word to use,” objected Matty.
“Besides, I don’t wear a sack!”
“That’s just a metaphor,” returned May serenely. “I couldn’t very well
make ‘dress’ rhyme with ‘back,’ could I?”
“It’s a perfectly good limerick,” laughed Rodney. “And I think it’s the
best yet.”
“Wait!” cried Matty. “I’ve got a new one. Listen:
“There was a young lady named May,
Who didn’t know just what to say,
So the words of her verse
From bad grew to worse,
And her friends from her side turned away.”
“Too pathetic,” decided Tad. “A limerick should be cheerful, I think.
That last line brought tears to my eyes, Matty.” But for some reason
Kitty approved enthusiastically of the latest attempt and clapped
loudly.
“We’ll have to vote to see who gets the prize, I guess,” said Rodney.
“Who do you say, Tad?”
“It isn’t over yet,” announced Tad, pulling himself to a sitting
posture. “I have another one.”
“But you’ve had your turn,” protested Matty.
“No, that was before the contest started. Shove the prize this way and
lend me your ears. All set? Go!”
“There were two twins named Binner,
You couldn’t tell which was the thinner,
With one accord
They said, ‘We feel bored,
We had apple dumplings for dinner!’”
“Here you are!” laughed Rodney as he tossed the tin cup across. “Catch!
You win!”
Tad caught the prize deftly and bowed, hand on heart. “I thank you
all,” he said. “Words fail me with which to express my――my appreciation
of this honor you have done me. Perhaps the intrinsic value of this
beautiful prize is not great, but as a――a recognition of poetic genius,
as you might say――――”
“Wouldn’t think of saying it,” interrupted Rodney.
Tad cast a reproachful glance at him. “You have caused me to lose the
thread of my discourse. I think I’ll climb the Rock now.” He pulled
himself to his feet with a sigh and looked contemplatively at the crag
which towered above him.
“Don’t be a chump,” advised Rodney. “You’re too full of food to climb
anything. Besides, we’d hate to have to carry you all the way home.
It’s a longish way, Tad.”
“Please don’t try it,” begged Matty. “We’d so much rather you didn’t,
Tad.”
“My ability as a mountain climber has been assailed,” responded Tad
firmly. “Old Leather Lungs over there thinks he’s the only one who can
pull off a little stunt like this. Now you fellows just watch your
Uncle Theodore!”
Tad took a pull at his belt, groaning over the operation, and stepped
jauntily toward the place where an ill-defined track crept away over
the face of the Rock. Kitty watched him blinkingly.
“Think you can do it?” he asked.
“One more insult from you, Kitty, and I’ll hurl you into yon bottomless
depths! If I couldn’t climb to the top of this twopenny old Rock, I’d
resign my presidency of the Alpine Club. You fellows are evidently not
aware that I am the original monkey when it comes to climbing!”
“We didn’t know just what _kind_ you were,” murmured Rodney, “but we
knew you were.”
“Please don’t try it, Tad,” said Matty. “We’ll be just worried to
death, won’t we, May?”
“Worried to death,” echoed May.
“Shucks! Don’t be silly. This isn’t any kind of a trick. Anyone else
coming along? You, Kitty?”
Kitty shook his head. “Guess not. I’ve done it twice. Don’t believe in
exercise too soon after eating. Be careful near the top, Tad. It’s hard
going. If you want help, sing out.”
“What’ll you do? Come up and boost me?” Tad laughed as he laid aside
his coat. “Here goes, then!”
He swung off from the ledge, found a footing on the narrow trail that
led steeply away around the corner of the Rock, and in a moment was out
of sight.
“He’s a silly ass,” grumbled Rodney. “What did you let him do it for,
Kitty?”
Kitty looked surprised. “Me? Didn’t tell him to do it, did I?”
“No, but you could have stopped him. If he falls and hurts himself――――”
“I just know he will!” sighed May. “I――I feel it.”
“If he does, _he_ will feel it,” muttered Rodney, trying from the edge
of the jutting ledge to catch a glimpse of the climber. But Tad was
out of sight, and Rodney sat down again to wait his return. “We ought
to be starting back pretty soon, too,” he grumbled, studying his watch.
“It’s almost twenty to one.”
“Won’t take him long――if he does it,” said Kitty. “Don’t believe he
will, though. He’s eaten too much lunch. It follows.”
“If we went down on the ground we could see him,” suggested Rodney. But
Matty, who was clearing up the débris of the feast, demurred.
“I couldn’t watch him, Rodney. I――I’d scream!”
“I do wish he’d come back,” sighed May.
“Ten minutes,” prophesied Kitty calmly.
“Well, we’ll get ready to start along,” said Rodney, “so we won’t waste
time when he does get down. It would be a funny note though if he got
up there and couldn’t climb down again!”
“I don’t think it would be funny at all,” responded Matty severely. “It
would be perfectly horrible.”
“Anyway, it would sort of delay the game,” agreed Rodney. “Listen! Did
you hear anything?”
The twins shook their heads.
“Did you, Kitty?”
“Not sure. Maybe he called to let us know he’s on top.” Kitty filled
his lungs and let out a bellow that might have been heard half way to
Greenridge. “_O Tad! Tad Mudge!_” Then they listened. A faint hail came
back to them around the elbow of the Rock.
“Are you on top?” shouted Rodney.
“No-o-o!” was the faint response.
“Are you all right?” bellowed Kitty.
There was no reply for a moment, and then,
“No-o-o!” came the reply.
The four on the ledge looked at each other apprehensively.
“Perhaps he didn’t understand what we asked him,” said Rodney nervously.
“Maybe――maybe,” whispered May, “he’s fallen! Maybe he’s lying down
there on the ground all broken to pieces.”
“May!” said her sister sharply. “Don’t be silly! Ask him again,
Phineas.”
“Tad, are you all right?” shouted Kitty.
“No-o-o! Stuck!”
Kitty pulled his cap on firmly, threw off his coat and kicked his feet
out of the heavy shoes he wore. “You go down and see where he is,” he
said to Rodney. “I’ll climb up.”