But the "Little Nassau," beginning to cool, had started on its long
descent, and ran into counter currents which bobbed it roughly about.
This swung the boy around pretty lively, smashing him into the bag once
quite severely. His lip began to tremble at this, and he was crying
again. I tried to joke and laugh, but it was no use. His pluck was
oozing out, and at any moment I was prepared to see him go shooting
past me.

I was in despair. Then, suddenly, I remembered how one fright could
destroy another fright, and I frowned up at him and shouted sternly:

"You just hold on to that rope! If you don't I'll thrash you within an
inch of your life when I get you down on the ground! Understand?"

"Ye-ye-yes, sir," he whimpered, and I saw that the thing had worked. I
was nearer to him than the earth, and he was more afraid of me than of
falling.

"'Why, you've got a snap up there on that soft bag," I rattled on.

"Yes," I assured him, "this bar down here is hard and narrow, and it
hurts to sit on it."

Then a thought struck him, and he forgot all about his aching fingers.

"When are you going to jump?" he asked. "That's what I came up to see."

I was sorry to disappoint him, but I wasn't going to make any jump.

But he objected to that. "It said so in the papers," he said.