aint from the shock.

He knew he was going to reproach himself bitterly for having led her
into such a risk, but he could not just now afford to waste his energies
on regrets. Nor could he let her mind dwell on past dangers so long as
there were future ones to be faced.

"You might have sprained your wrist," he said lightly as he rose to
examine the cliff still to be negotiated.

Her dark eyes looked at him with quick surprise. "So I might," she
answered dryly.

But his indifferent tone had the effect upon her of a plunge into cold
water. It braced and stiffened her will. If he wanted to ignore the
terrible danger through which she had passed, certainly she was not
going to remind him of it.

Between where they stood and the summit of the cliff was another rock
traverse. A kind of rough, natural stairway led down to a point opposite
them. But before this could be reached thirty feet of granite must be
crossed. The wall looked hazardous enough in all faith. It lay in the
shade, and there were spots where a thin coating of ice covered the
smooth slabs. But there was no other way up, and if the traverse could
be made the rest was easy.

Gordon was mountaineer enough to know that the climb up is safer than
the one back. The only possible way for them to go down the trough was
for him to lower her by the belt until she found footing enough to go
alone. He did not quite admit it to himself, but in his heart he doubted
whether she could make it safely.

The alternative was the cliff face.

CHAPTER V

ACROSS THE TRAVERSE

Elliot took off his shoes and turned toward the traverse.

"Think I'll see if I can cross to that stairway. You had better wait
here, Miss O'Neill, until we find out if it can be done."

His manner was casual, his voice studiously light.

Sheba looked across the cliff and down to the boulder bed two hundred
feet below. "You can never do it in the world. Isn't there another way
up?"

"No. The wall above us slopes out. I've got to cross to the stairway. If
I make it I'm going to get a rope."

"Do you mean you're going back to town for one?"

"Yes."

Her eyes fastened to his in a long, unspoken question. She read the
answer. He was afraid to have her try the trough again. To get back to
town by way of their roundabout ascent would waste time. If he was going
to rescue her before night, he must take the shortest cut, and that was
across the face of the sheer cliff. For the first time