"I'm going!" he screamed, when, making a mighty leap, Dick caught him by the foot.
"Catch the rock—anything!" cried the older brother. "If you don't you'll be killed!"
"Save me!" was all poor Sam could say. "Oh, Dick, don't let me go over!"
"I'll do my best, Sam," was Dick's answer, and he held on like grim death.
By this time half a dozen boys were running to the scene. Dora Stanhope followed, and as she came up she pulled a tiny penknife from her pocket.
"Can't I cut the line with this?" she asked, timidly, as she pushed her way to Dick's side.
"Yes, Yes; cut it!" moaned Sam. "Oh, my wrist is almost cut in two!"
Stooping low, Dora sawed away at the kite line, which was as taut as a string on a bass fiddle. Suddenly there was a loud snap and the cord parted. Sam and Dick fell back from the edge of the cliff, while the entangled kites soared away for parts unknown.
"Thank Heaven you cut the line, Dora!" said Dick, who was the first to recover from the excitement of the situation. He saw that Dora was trembling like a leaf, and he hastened to her support, but she pushed him away and pointed to Sam.
"Don't mind me—I am all right, Dick," she said. "Go care for poor Sam. See how his wrist is bleeding! Oh, how dreadful!"