omewhat damp."

"Let me go. It is my risk for my horse," urged the Spaniard.

"It is no risk, Senor," replied Jim. "You are heavier than my brother
and stronger and can do more good on this ledge with me."

"The commands of the General!" said the Spaniard with a low bow. "I see
your plan is good."

"We will tie this end of the lasso to the tree," said Jim, "so you will
feel perfectly safe, Jo."

The tree referred to was a sturdy, gnarled cedar, growing on the ledge.
Then Jim swung his brother off and with every confidence in the strength
of the lariat to hold, Jo made his way quickly and safely down, while if
he had been without the rope he would have doubtless fallen into the
water below.

A wave surged in, submerging him, and then started triumphantly to carry
him out to sea, but when the lariat pulled taut Jo struggled safely back
on the rock, while the wave went grumbling back.

"Catch the bridle now, Jo," urged Jim. "Don't waste any more time
swimming."

Thus adjured, Jo grabbed the bridle reins and pulled them over Don
Fernando's head, and braced himself on the rock above. All was ready
now, and the two above held the loop of the lasso that had been tied at
the cinch, with both hands, and they pulled together. Again a big wave
swelled in towards the cliff, which gave the frightened horse a big
boost.

Then, with Jim and the Spaniard pulling mightily from the ledge above,
and Jo giving the big chestnut a purchase by a steady pull upon his
bridle, the horse scrambled with a mighty clatter and all his frightened
energy up the sloping rock. The lariat and Jo's work helped a whole lot.
Without the three, he would never have made it.

Before the next wave swept in, Don Fernando stood, trembling and
dripping, but safe, upon the lower ledge. He seemed above the danger
point now, though an unusually big wave welled up around the horse's
fetlocks and the spray was continually dashing upwards.

"He is all right now," cried Jim, "better come up, Jo, where it is
dryer."

"Haul in then," replied Jo, and then he was landed safely on the ledge.

"Caught a speckled trout," exclaimed Jim in happy humor again.

"Referring to my freckles, I suppose," grinned Jo. "If I'm a fish, I
reckon Don Fernando is a whale."

"Do you suppose he is safe?" inquired the Spaniard anxiously.

"Who, Jo?"

"Ah, no," said the Spaniard smilingly. "I mean the Don. The water seems
to be rising."

"You may rest assured that he is safe