He heaved a long sigh, then looked at the very end of the cliff. Here the rocks were notched and uneven, and he found a spot where he could drop a distance of fifteen feet in safety. But after that?

"If I get down there perhaps I won't be able to get back—if I want to," he reasoned. "But I'm going down, anyway—and find out what became of father," he added, recklessly. The drop taken, he found himself on a ledge several yards wide and twice as long. To his delight back of the ledge was a hollow leading downward.

"Perhaps that goes to the bottom of the cliff," he mused. "I'll try it, anyway."

The passageway was dangerous, being covered with ice, and he had to move literally an inch at a time. Once he slipped, but caught fast to a ridge of ice just in time to save himself. It made his heart leap into his throat, yet he kept on. He was so eager to gain the object of his quest that no peril, no matter how great, could have daunted him. Surely "blood is thicker than water" every time.

Having gained the bottom of the hollow inside of the cliff, he turned to where a streak of light showed. Here was a narrow slit leading to the greater hollow outside of the cliff. It was so small that the youth squeezed through with difficulty and had even more trouble getting his knapsack on the other side.

He now stood where there was a gentle slope leading to the firs growing at the foot of the cliff. Here there was a great drift of snow, in some spots fifteen and twenty feet high.

"I wonder if father came down in that?" he mused. "If he did he wouldn't be apt to break any bones. But he might get smothered before he could find his way out, especially if the fall took his breath away."

He gazed around in the drift and saw a spot where it looked as if the snow had been disturbed. Then he saw what looked to be footprints further on, leading among the firs.

"Hello! hello!" he called, with all the strength of his lungs. "Mr. Porter! Where are you?"

His voice echoed along the rocks and beyond, and he waited with bated breath for a reply, but, as before, none came.