This time the Crano-Scale executed a sudden detour before descending. Indeed, the thing came so painfully near to our perch that the wind was perceptible, and when the giant coal-scuttle had passed and dropped, my heart was hammering out a tattoo.
“I don't believe this ledge is safe, Hawkins,” I said.
“Oh, it won't act that way again. Watch! She's dumping into the wagon now! Hear it?”
“Yes, I hear it. I see just what a beautiful success it is, Hawkins--really. Let's go.”
“And now she's coming back!” cried the inventor, his eyes glued to the remarkable contrivance. “Observe the ease--the grace--the mechanical poise--the resistless quality of the Crano-Scale's motion! See, Griggs, how she swings!”
I did see how she was swinging. It was precisely that which sent me nearer to the ladder.
The Crano-Scale was returning to position, but with a series of erratic swoops that seemed to close my throat.
The coal-scuttle whirled joyously about in the air--it was receding--no, it was coming nearer! It paused for a second. Then, making a bee-line for our little ledge, it dived through the air toward us.
“Look out, there, Hawkins!” I cried, hastily.
“But the cursed thing will smash us flat against the wall!”
“Tush! The automatic reacting clutch will----”
The Crano-Scale was upon us! For the merest fraction of a second it paused and seemed to hesitate; then it struck the wall with a heavy bang; then started to scrape its way along our ledge.
The wretched contraption was bent on shoving us off!
“Why--why--why--why--why----” Hawkins cried breathlessly.
But, my course of action had been settled for me. The scoop of the Crano-Scale caught me amidships, and I plunged downward into the coal.
That there was a considerable degree of shock attached to my landing may easily be imagined.
But small coal, as I had not known before, is a reasonably soft thing to fall on; and within a few seconds I sat up, perceived that I was soon to order a new suit of clothes, and then looked about for Hawkins.
He was nowhere in the neighborhood, and I called aloud.
“Hanging--to--the--scoop!” sang out the inventor.
And there, up near the roof, I located him, dangling from the Crano-Scale coal-scuttle!
“What are you going to do next?” I asked, with some interest.