“Oh!” cried Bob, who had just caught a fleeting glimpse of man and rider tottering on the verge of the broken cliff trail, which had evidently been blown away by the explosion of a dynamite cartridge placed there for that purpose by the retreating fugitives, in order to cut off pursuit.
Frank saw more.
He knew that Sim, being an old cowman, and accustomed to leaving his saddle in a hurry when some peril threatened, had shaken his feet free from the stirrups. One wild spring, and the trail-finder managed to clutch hold of the rock, though his horse went plunging down into space.
Frank was out of his own saddle in a second. Another, and he had snatched the rope which he always carried, to be used as a lariat when chasing steers, or a means of keeping his horse from straying too far away at night.
Buckskin seemed to know that this was no time for any prancing. He behaved himself splendidly. On the other hand the big bay of the former superintendent gave evidence of fright, jumping up, apparently desirous of trying to turn around, an impossible feat on that narrow shelf, or at least one accompanied by extreme hazard.
Frank knew then that it all depended on him, if Sim was to be rescued. He could see that the man was still dangling there, his only hold being the tip of the rock. At any moment his grip might loosen, and he would be hurled down after his horse, that lay motionless more than eighty feet below.
Frank watched his chance, and managed to slip past the rearing steed of Mr. Riley, without being struck by the flying hoofs.
Now he was close above Sim. One glance told the boy that he could not hope to bend down and catch hold of the man. His rope would have to be used; but just how he could place the loop was a question, with both arms of the man held aloft.
Sim solved the puzzle for him by elevating his legs, bent at the knee. Instantly Frank knew what he wanted him to do—drop the loop of his lariat over both legs, and then draw taut. In case Sim’s grip was broken, while he might hang head downward, at least he could not take that terrible plunge.
Frank was a pretty good hand at throwing the rope, and those upturned legs offered so easy a mark that he could hardly fail to drop the noose over them at the first attempt.