"Waal?" demanded Larry hoarsely, while Nobby leaned over the opening and peered into his face, breathing heavily on him.
"Can't say," came from Bill, "only the trick can be done right enough. Next time I'll clamber along and see if the doors can be opened. Now you swing me down again, holding my wrists and ankles. When I double up my right hand, let it go, and keep me as far swung back as you can. When I've got a grip I'll move the other hand and you can let that go too. I'll jiggle my feet in turn as I want you to liberate 'em--get me?"
"You bet!" Nobby grunted. "Got you square! Take care, young Bill, now. We don't want to see you dashed to pieces, but----"
"But someone's got to do it," said Bill, "and I'm as active as any one of you and fairly light. Down I go! Hang on tight. And don't be afraid to let go when you get the signal."
He was swung through the opening again, and then allowed to drift backward. Once more he caught a glimpse of the clanging couplings just above his head, and of the grating buffers on either side. Then, measuring his distance, he closed the fingers of his right hand, and rather reluctantly that member was released, while he felt the grip on the ankles and the other wrist tighten as if the men were fearful of his escaping from between their fingers. Then he reached upward and without difficulty gripped the first of the handles. Shifting his grasp along it, he then closed the fingers of the other hand, and a minute later was holding on to the single broad handle, while the men inside the van allowed his form to drift still farther backward.
There was team work there between them all--intelligent team work. For though Larry and Jim and the others could not see what Bill was attempting, they could imagine it well enough, and the writhings of his body gave them a hint as to how they were to behave under every circumstance. Yet it was not without reluctance that they let his right leg loose, as he wriggled the ankle, and Nobby, who released it, was more than relieved when Jim, bending over the hole, called to two of them to grip his wrists, and was himself lowered through the opening, head downward, his feet and legs resting on the floor of the wagon. Twisting his head, he could see Bill's right leg swing backward, and presently watched as it was hooked over the foot-rest. Then came another wriggle of the other ankle, and a minute later Bill had practically disappeared, one leg only still showing hooked over the foot-rest.