“I know it. If we could only signal Ned or Frank we might run some chance——”
At that moment another lineman, standing near Bart, turned to him, and asked excitedly, as he saw the rifle in the lad’s hand:
“Are you a good shot? A man’s life may depend on it! Can you shoot straight?”
“Pretty straight,” answered Bart, wondering what was coming next. The lineman was excited, he approached nearer to Bart, and motioned to his friend high up on the pole—the man from whom death seemed but a short distance away.
“Is your rifle loaded? Then, if it is, for mercy sakes fire and see if you can sever that main feed wire,” and the lineman pointed to a thick conductor, which was shooting out blue sparks, and which had charged all the other wires with the deadly current. “See if you can cut that wire,” went on the lineman eagerly. “It’s the only chance to save his life!”
Bart hesitated. He turned to see the man whom they had pursued, making his escape. If he got away it might mean that they would never see him again—never have the theft of the diamond bracelet solved. It was a choice between the honor of the Darewell Chums and the life of a man. Which would Bart choose?
There could be but one answer to this question.