Wager in Mid-air 189
fellow, but he wasn’t crazy. He obviously knew that this would be suicide. I nodded silently at Kichikō. I’d share in the joke, if that’s what they wanted.
“You’d each give me a yen, eh?” said Chō. “That makes a whole day’s wages.”
“Only look here,” said Kichikō laughing nervously. “If you make a mistake, it’ll be the end of you. I’ll have to go down and pick up the mess.”
“You needn’t tell me. I can figure that out for myself,” said Chō. “The trouble is,” he continued, as if speaking to himself, “where would I put my hands?” He looked all round the platform. Then his eyes came to rest on the thick iron mouth of the chimney. He bent over and looked into the great black opening.
“If I do it,” he said, “I’ll stand on this edge.”
He felt the surface of the chimney-top.
“The trouble is, it’s damned slippery.” Suddenly his expression changed and with a sense of horror, I knew that he was going to try the trick. I wanted to stop him and began to stutter out something, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was to squat there gazing up at him intently with my sunken eyes. Surely, I thought, he could not be doing this for the two yen, however much he may have wanted to spend the day at Asakusa. Could it be that he was still trying in some way to get the better of that girl at the circus? Or was he emulating the little man and defying monotony in his own way? I never knew. The next moment I heard Chō say, “All right. I’ll take the wager. I’ll have a go.” There was no longer the slightest trace of laughter in his voice.
“Wait a minute,” said Kichikō, suddenly becoming dead serious. “You know what’ll happen if you slip.”
“If I slip, that’s the end of me.” There was a touch of defiance in Chō’s voice as he threw out the words. He turned round in the direction of the city and stared at it for a few moments. The sun was rapidly disappearing now and strangely-shaped tufts of cloud drifted past in the darkening sky. Yet
