“I believe you could get up there, Dick,” muttered Darrin, in a low voice.

“Then you could, Dave.”

“I think I could,” nodded Darrin.  “And, by crickets, if you were here, Dick, I’d certainly try it.”

“Try it anyway, then,” urged Prescott.

“Not unless you balk at it,” returned Darrin.

“I’m not going to balk at it,” retorted Dick, flushing just a bit.  “But you spoke of it first, Dave, and I think you ought to have first chance at the reward.”

“Tell you what I’ll do,” proposed Darrin, seriously.  “We’ll toss for it, and the winner has the try.”

“I’ll go you,” nodded Prescott.

Herr Schimmelpodt, regarding them both seriously, saw that they meant it.

“Boys, boys!” he remonstrated.  “Don’t think of it yet!”

“Why not?” asked Dick.

“You would be killed,” remonstrated the big German.

“Is that the best opinion you have of us, after the way you’ve been praising us athletes for two years?” laughed Prescott.

“I’ll toss you for it, Dick,” nudged Dave.

“What’s this?” demanded Mr. Macey.

“Prescott and I are going to toss for it, to see who shall have the first chance to climb the spire and flagstaff,” replied Dave.

“Nonsense!  Out of the question,” almost exploded Mr. Macey.  “It would be like murder to allow either of you to try.  That’s work for a regular steeplejack.”

“Well, what is a steeplejack?” demanded Dick.  “He’s a fellow of good muscle and nerve, who can stand being in high places.  Either of us could climb a flagpole from down here in the street.  Why can’t either of us go up there, just as well, and climb from the steeple roof?”

“Prescott, have you any idea of the strength of the wind up there?” demanded the real estate man.  “It’s blowing great guns up there!”

“Get some one to toss the coin, and either you or I call,” insisted Darrin.

Some one told Mrs. Macey what was being proposed.

“Oh, stop them!” she cried, leaning forward from the runabout.  “Boys, boys!  Don’t do anything wildly rash like that!  I’d sooner lose the scarf than have lives risked.”

“She needn’t worry,” sneered some one in the crowd.  “The High School dudes are only bluffing.  They haven’t either o’ them the sand to do a thing like that.”

Both Prescott and Darrin heard.  Both flushed, though that was all the sign they gave.

“Herr Schimmelpodt, you must have a cent,” suggested Dick.  “Toss it, will you, and let Darrin call the turn.”

Grumbling a good deal the German produced the required coin.  He fingered it nervously, for a moment, then flipped it high in the air.

“Tails!” called Dave.

It came down heads.

“Oh, well, the best two out of three,” insisted Dick.

“That fellow’s nerve is going already,” laughed some one.  “He’s anxious for the other fellow to get the honor.”