Midsummer Moon
“He gripped the rope, expecting the contraption to grind to a halt. It did not. His feet passed the level of the secretary's generous paunch. Now, Ransom thought, watching the other man's feet appear to grow closer together as his perspective changed. Step down now.His body tensed. It did not obey him.He only held the rope harder. A sweep of canvas and catgut entered the top of his peripheral vision and began to pass smoothly downward, growing larger as the tools and papers and scraps of canvas ...on the floor grew smaller. Now, he thought again, and again his feet did not move.His boots topped the secretary's head."Jolly clever device, eh?” the politician cried. “I believe I'll stay long enough for a ride myself, Damerell."Ransom wanted to swallow, but not even his throat would obey him. The twins sat still on the far end of the bench, making little whimpers of pleasure and excitement. He noticed with growing panic that their weight was not enough to counterbalance his, and the square platform tilted alarmingly toward his corner.MoreLess
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