The morning came. Overhead the sun shone, for they could see that the sky was clear. And looking down they saw the rushing torrent that had not filled the bed of the canyon for perhaps centuries back.
When another hour had elapsed Bob began to grow impatient, and suggested various wild schemes for getting out of the difficulty. To all of these Frank shook his head. He himself was considering something, when he suddenly lifted his head as though listening.
"Some one shouting up yonder!" exclaimed Bob, pointing upward to the top of the canyon wall; whereupon Frank seized upon his gun, and fired several shots in rapid succession.
Then came answering shouts, upon which Frank repeated his signal for help.
"They hear you; they're coming closer! Oh! Frank, I believe that's Old Hank Coombs hollering!" exclaimed the excited Bob.
"Hello! down there, air ye all safe?" came a hail; and looking up the two boys on the shelf saw the grizzled head of the old cowman thrust into view.
CHAPTER XXII
ONCE MORE AT CIRCLE RANCH—CONCLUSION
After all, it was not a very great task, getting the two saddle boys up from the friendly shelf. Old Hank lowered his lariat; and after Bob had slipped the loop under his arms, he was pulled to safety. Then Frank followed.