careful!" warned Mr. Alcando. "There may be danger--"

But no known danger could have held Blake back.

"He is there!" Blake cried. "We were digging in the wrong place."

"I thought so," said the Spaniard. But Blake did not stay to
listen to him. Now he was at Joe's side. The slide had laid bare a
ledge of rock which seemed firm enough to remain solid for some
time.

"Joe! Joe!" cried Blake, bending over his chum. And then he saw
what it was that had probably saved Joe's life. The boy's big
rubber coat had been turned up and wound around his head and face
in such a manner as to keep the sand and dirt out of his eyes,
nose and mouth. And, also wrapped up in the folds of the garment,
was the camera.

Rapidly Blake pulled the coat aside. Joe's pale face looked up at
him. There was a little blood on the forehead, from a small cut.
The boy was unconscious.

"Joe! Joe!" begged Blake. "Speak to me! Are you all right?"

He bared his chum's face to the pelting rain--the best thing he
could have done, for it brought Joe back to consciousness--slowly
at first, but with the returning tide of blood the fainting spell
passed.

"We must get him to the boat," said Mr. Alcando, coming up now.

"Are you hurt? Can you walk?" asked Blake.

Joe found his voice--though a faint voice it was.

"Yes--yes," he said, slowly. "I--I guess I'm all right."

There seemed to be no broken bones. Mr. Alcando took charge of the
camera. It was not damaged except as to the tripod.

"What happened?" asked Joe, his voice stronger now.

"You were caught in the slide," Blake informed him. "Don't think
about it now. We'll have you taken care of."

"I--I guess I'm all right," Joe said, standing upright. "That coat
got wound around my face, and kept the dirt away. I got a bad
whack on the head, though, and then I seemed to go to sleep. Did I
get any pictures?"

"I don't know. Don't worry about them now."

"We--we missed the best part of the slide, I guess," Joe went on.
"Too bad."

"It's all right!" his chum insisted. "I was filming away up to the
time you went under. Now, let's get back."

By this time the crowd of men, including Captain Wiltsey, had
arrived. But there was nothing for them to do. The slide had
buried Joe, and another slide had uncovered him, leaving him
little the worse, save for a much-muddied suit of clothes, and a
bad headache, to say nothing of several minor cuts and bruises. It
was a lucky escape.

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