In a few moments he
had pasted on a great sheet, having first pulled himself up to
the eaves to secure the top of the sheet just under them.
"Now that you have one sheet on, how are you going to get around
to the other side to put others on?" demanded Conley.
"Oh, I'll show you. Be patient down there. I have got to change
a leg; this one is getting numb."
"I should think it would," muttered Billy.
Phil changed legs, as he termed it; then, grasping the eaves with
both hands, he pulled himself along, the slip-noose over the
cupola turning about on its pivot without a hitch.
This done Phil called for more paper, which was put up in
short order. Thus he continued with his work until he had put
a plaster, as Bill Conley characterized it, all the way around
the farmer's silo. It might have been seen nearly ten miles
away in all directions. No such billing had ever before been
done in that part of the country, nor perhaps anywhere else.
"There! I'd like to see the Ringlings, or Hagenbecks or
Barnum and Bailey or any of the other big ones, beat that.
They're welcome to cover this paper if they can, eh, Billy?"
laughed Phil, pushing himself away from the side of the silo
and leaning far back to get a better view of it. "I call
that pretty fine. How about it?"
"The greatest ever," agreed Billy.
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