"What do you think of that, Larry?"
"It isn't much for yersilf, but I would be proud of the same."
"I'm sure there will be no trouble. There is room for you to get a couple of yards start, and I wouldn't advise you to try it if I wasn't sure you would succeed."
Young Murphy was plucky, but he surveyed the task before him with some misgiving. With a depth of about twenty feet, and nothing but rock at the bottom, a failure to land on the other side meant death or serious injury.
He stood on the edge, and spent a minute or two peering down into the gloomy depths. Then he looked across at his friend, who cheered him on.
"I'll thry it," he said, resolutely, and with a shake of his head.
"Fling over your gun to me; it will be easier for you to make the jump without that than with it."
Larry tossed the rifle to his friend, who deftly caught the weapon. Then, with the grim comicality of his nature, he threw his cap after it.
"If I do make a tumble of it, I should like ye to preserve that as a token of remembrance."
He now braced himself for the effort. With all his strength, he could not compare with his friend in speed and rapidity. The leap, however, was only a moderate one, and Wharton was confident he would make it if no mishap intervened.