"Don't waste a bit of your wind foolishly." At the bell loft all four paused to look down at the crowd.
Now up a series of ladders the four were obliged to climb, inside the spire top.

This spire top was thirty-six feet above the floor of the bell loft; but eight feet from the top of the spire a window let out upon a narrow iron gallery that ran around the spire.
"I---I don't believe I'll step out there," faltered Mr.Macey, who was stout and apoplectic-looking.
"I don't blame ye any," agreed the janitor.

"It ain't just the place, out there, for a man o' your weight and years." "Don't look down at the street, Dick," begged Dave.
"Why not ?" asked Prescott, deliberately disobeying.

"If I couldn't do that without getting dizzy, it would be foolish to climb the pole." "Prescott, you'd better not try it," protested Mr.Macey.

"Just listen to how strong the wind is at this height.