Well, here goes! If I fall off that will be the
last of me, but I am not going to fall. I ought to be able to
climb by this time if I'm ever going to."
Phil got up promptly, glanced toward the long train that was
winding its way up the steep mountain, then stepped across
the intervening space between the two cars. He wasted no time,
but immediately lifted the canvas and peered along the side of
the wagon.
He discovered that he would have to go to the forward end of it
in order to reach the top, because the steps were at that end.
There the canvas was drawn tighter, so the lad untied one of the
ropes, leaving one corner of the covering flapping in the breeze.
Cautiously and quietly he began climbing up, the wagon swaying
dizzily with the motion of the train, making it more and more
difficult to cling to it as he got nearer the top. The air was
close, and soon after the boy began going up, the sun beat down
on the canvas cover suffocatingly.
Now he had reached the top. High seats intervened between him
and the other end, so that he could not see far ahead of him.
Phil dropped down into the wagon and began creeping toward
the rear.
He stumbled over some properties that had been stowed in the
wagon, making a great clatter.
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