d to slacken the rope in his hands
permitting the bar to swing within the grasp of Alfred.

This was the rehearsed procedure to carry the thrilling feat to the
proper climax. Henry swung the trapeze too forcibly, one end of the rope
slipped out of his hands and pulled loose from the trapeze bar. The
lower bar fouled in the branches of the tree.

Alfred was clapping his hands violently for the trapeze. Henry was
endeavoring to cast the rope over the bar, his efforts resulting in
failure after failure. Finally in his excitement he endeavored to cast
the rope up to Alfred. The pendulum had nearly stopped swinging, and
Alfred was waving his arms, clapping his hands and begging piteously for
the big trapeze swing.

Bindley above was holding on to the boy below. He implored Alfred to
climb up to him. Effort after effort was made by Alfred to do so, but he
hung limp and helpless. He could not command sufficient strength to pull
his body up. He clutched at Lin's unmentionables as he hung head
downward. The earth seemed a long way from him and things on it upside
down.

The boys below were yelling in their excitement, the girls had covered
their faces, the grown folks, who had stood afar, rushed to the scene.

Never will Alfred forget the few moments he was suspended thus, nor will
he fail to remember to his dying day the first message he received from
the man above. There was a splash, an incipient shower of warmish liquid
falling on Alfred's upturned chin. Alfred wiped it off with his hand;
fearing it was blood he scanned it closely. He was greatly relieved when
he discovered that it was tobacco juice. (Bindley always chewed when
acting).

Following the juice came this message: "I can't hold you all day, come
up here or I'll come down there."

Alfred made frantic grabs, clutches and wiggles to climb up, only to
fall back, more helpless. Hen was making an effort to throw the rope to
Alfred. Lin grabbed him. Snatching the rope from him, she shouted:
"Clim' the tree, clim' the tree, loose the swing, ye dam fool." Hen had
started up the tree. A flood of hot juice rained down on Alfred's
upturned chin, flowing into his mouth.

Bindley, with clinched teeth, muttered: "If you get killed it's your own
fault, I can't hold you any longer."

Alfred could see old Mrs. Wagner at an upstairs window waving a book at
Kenney Shoup urging to the rescue. He could hear voices as if in the
distance. He felt a lowering of his body. He fe