bled over the edge of the precipice!"

That was Step Hen shouting. He had happened to be the nearest one to the
unfortunate scout, when Mike gave the other an impatient shove with his
nose, that made Smithy lose his balance, and topple over the brink.

Thad never lost a second, but went on the jump toward the spot where
the stubborn jack stood, with his sturdy little legs braced like
steel, as though determined not to be pulled over just because Smithy
had stepped off the trail.

Reaching the spot, Thad threw himself down on his face. He could peer
over the edge, and see the dangling scout. Smithy was squirming at a
tremendous rate, doubtless terrified at the sudden mishap that had
overtaken him, and which came when he was dreaming of other things.

"Stop wriggling that way, Smithy!" called the patrol leader; "it won't
do any good, and may shake the rope loose from your wrist! Here, try
and get hold with your other hand; and grip it good and fast. We'll
have you up in a jiffy, never fear!"

"Oh! Thad!" gasped the poor fellow, whose face was as white as chalk
when he turned it appealingly upward; nevertheless Smithy had learned
the quality of obedience, and particularly when he heard the acting
scoutmaster speak; so that almost mechanically he groped around with his
free hand until his fingers came in contact with the taut rope, when
they closed upon it tenaciously; just as a drowning man will cling to
the first thing he clutches that seems to hold out a single ray of hope.

"Let me help," said a quiet voice close to Thad's ear; and he knew
that it was Allan who spoke--Allan, always self-possessed and cool,
even in the most trying conditions.

Thad was only too glad to have an assistant, for he could never have
lifted the imperiled lad alone, since Smithy was no light weight; and
did not know enough to help himself by digging the toes of his boots
into crevices of the rocks, so as to ease the terrific strain on his
arms.

"Hold on tight, Smithy; it's all right, and you're not going to fall,
understand that now. So, up you come, my boy! Another pull like that,
and we'll sure have you on deck again. Easy now with that rope back
there; Step Hen, hold to the mule, and keep him quiet, will you?"

Thad said all this in a reassuring, matter-of-fact tone, that was
better calculated to put confidence into the faint heart of Smithy
than anything else could. Step Hen and Davy Jones caught hold of the
obstreperous Mike, al