ieking his fears out. He
was calling cheerful words of hope across the quaking morass of sand
that separated them. There was no use in making a gibbering idiot of
one's self. Beaudry clenched his jaws tight on the cries that rose
like a thermometer of terror in his throat.

With every ounce of strength that was in him he fought, meanwhile, for
the life of the man at the other end of the rope. Before Beulah
reached Charlton, Roy was in deeper than his knees. He shut his eyes
and pulled like a machine. It seemed an eternity before Charlton
called to him to let go the rope.

A new phase of his danger seared like a flame across the brain of
Beaudry. He had dragged himself from a perpendicular position. As
soon as he let loose of the rope he would begin to sink forward. This
would reduce materially the time before his face would sink into the
sand.

Why not hang on and let the horse drag him out, too? He had as much
right to live as Charlton. Was there any law of justice that forced
him to throw away the rope that was his only hope?

But he knew the tough little cowpony could not drag two heavy men from
the quicksands at the same time. If he held tight, Charlton, too,
would be sacrificed. His fingers opened.

Roy watched the struggle on the opposite side of the wash. Charlton
was in almost to his arm-pits. The horse braced its feet and pulled.
Beulah, astride the saddle, urged it to the task again and again. At
first by imperceptible gains, then inch by inch, the man was dragged
from the mire that fought with a thousand clinging tentacles for its
prey.

Not till Charlton was safe on the bank did Beulah realize the peril of
Beaudry. One glance across the river showed her that he was sliding
face downward to a shifting grave. With an anguished little cry she
released the rope from Charlton's body, flung herself to the saddle
again, and dashed down the bank of the creek.

Roy lost count of time. His face was sliding down toward the sand.
Soon his mouth and nostrils would be stopped. He believed that it was
a question of minutes with him.

Came the swift pounding of hoofs and Beulah's clear, ringing voice.

"Hold your hands straight out, Roy."

His back was toward her, so that he did not see what she meant to do.
But he obeyed blindly. With a wrench first one hand and then the other
came free from the sand and wavered into the air heavily. A rope sang,
dropped over his arms and head, tightened