heir midst the heavy body of the injured engineer.
All during the first half of the ascent Blake had made the task as
easy as he could by the strenuous exertion of the great strength still
left in his arms and his sound leg. But at last the bandages that
bound his broken leg had chafed in two on the rough ledges; and even
his iron nerve had not long been able to withstand the torture of the
twisting break.

He now dangled helpless in the sling by which they had secured him.
Half the time he was mercifully unconscious; the other half his jaw
was set rigid and his lips were compressed to stifle his groans of
agony. Whenever possible Ashton climbed beside him, striving to ease
the roughness of the ascent.

A full hour before they reached the top, the thin-faced consumptive
surgeon arrived from Stockchute with his splints and medical case.
Waited upon by Isobel and Genevieve, he was fully recovered from the
exertion of his ride when at last the panting rescuers came toiling up
to the brink.

Eager hands dragged the unconscious engineer to the top and carried
him to where the surgeon sat waiting. A few of the watchers lingered
to help the rescuers over the rim; then they, too, hurried away to see
if Blake had survived that terrible ascent. For the last two hundred
feet he had looked like a dead man. There was no cheering. Deep Canyon
had been conquered; but it was yet to be seen whether the victory had
not been won at a disastrous cost.

The sheriff and his nine men sank down on the grassy slope, gasping,
outspent. Ashton collapsed in their midst. He was more than outspent;
he was utterly exhausted. The instant he had seen Blake lifted over
the rim-rock, he had given way to the strain of his frightful
exertions. When a man sent by Isobel came hurrying to the rescuers
with water and coffee, Ashton was unable to move or speak. The man had
to hold him up and pour the coffee down his throat.

One by one, the sheriff and the others staggered up and went to join
the silent group about Blake. No one left that circle of watchers.
They were waiting for the result of the surgeon's efforts to
resuscitate the unconscious man. It was a desperate fight. But the
surgeon had won a place in the forefront of his profession before the
white plague had driven him from New York to this health-giving
wilderness. He knew all the latest, most wonderful methods of
resuscitation. And he had for assistants two who loved and were loved
by his pa