[CHAPTER XVII.]
A DARING RESCUE.
A yell of consternation broke from Clancy’s lips. Merriwell and Ballard were silent. With white, drawn faces and wide, staring eyes, all three of the boys stood as though rooted to the ground.
The accident had happened so suddenly that those below were stunned. It took them a few moments to realize the awful thing that had occurred. Frank was the first to break the thrall of inaction that bound them.
“He can’t be badly hurt, fellows!” he called. “It wasn’t much of a fall—about ten feet to the ledge and four or five feet from the ledge to the bowlder. He’s stunned, that’s all, but worse things are likely to happen if we don’t get him down before he begins to revive.”
“How in thunder did the rope break away from the paloverde?” cried Ballard. “Darrel said he was careful to tie it securely, and——”
“Never mind that now, Pink,” Merriwell interrupted. “As long as Darrel’s unconscious he won’t make a move, but when he begins to come to himself, he’s liable to stir around. If he does that, he’s going off that bowlder, sure!”
Certainly it was a gruesome situation for Darrel. His body hung over the projecting bowlder, face downward, and only the tree’s twisted and stunted trunk, rising at the bowlder’s edge, kept him from falling to the bottom of the wall. It was a precarious support at best, however, and the slightest move on Darrel’s part would dislodge him in spite of the tree.
“Get him down?” breathed Ballard. “How the blazes can we do that, Chip? The best way is to get more ropes and go down to him from the paloverde.”
“It would take too long.” Frank, his mind working swiftly, had picked up the end of the spliced rope and was making it fast around his waist. “I’m going up after him,” he finished briefly, and started for the lower end of the fissure.