already failed to support Elizabeth's light weight, and so
pull the girl back to safety. By some method she must reach up to her
from below. Down on her hands and knees, testing cautiously every foot
of the way, Jack crawled on until she found a side of the cliff that she
was able to climb down. Then, almost like a cat, she crept along, her
feet on incredibly small protuberances in the rocks and her hands
clutching at anything she could find for support. Finally she reached a
small platform in the rocks not more than a foot square, but directly
below Elizabeth and within reach of her.

"Be quiet, Beth, and as I push, pull upward with all your might," was
all she trusted herself to say, and Elizabeth was beyond answering.

Now Jacqueline Ralston was to prove how a lifetime spent out of doors
may give one a cool head, a gallant courage and muscles of steel. Taking
firm hold of Elizabeth just below the girl's knees, she pushed her up,
up, inch by inch; Elizabeth stretching out one hand at a time to grasp
the shrubs growing in the more solid ground. At last, with Jack's strong
hands below her feet and one more shove, Elizabeth dragged herself out
of danger and lay half fainting on the solid earth.

Then came Jack's peril. All this time while every thought and effort
were directed toward her friend's rescue, she had not looked down at the
wicked precipice beneath the narrow ledge of rock where she held her
footing. But the instant she let go of Elizabeth's body and lost the
slight support it had given her, she also lost the steadying influence
that she must fight to save another weaker than herself, and glanced
downward. Then whether she grew dizzy and lost her balance or whether
she slipped back in an effort to climb, it was impossible to know, but
backward she fell past a straight cliff, landing in a crumpled mass on a
ledge of the rainbow colored stones twenty feet below. There was no
movement and no sound, not even a noise when her body struck.

"Jack!" Elizabeth called faintly a moment later, "Jack!" But no one
answered, and the silence was more awful than any sound. Only a great
golden eagle swooped over the open gorge as though trying to fathom the
tragedy beneath.

CHAPTER XIX

THE SUSPENSE AND WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS

Peter Drummond, returning for the two girls with Donald, found Jack.
Elizabeth, who had not dared stir, could only point dumbly to the
overhanging abyss, without voice to express her t