"Here, catch hold of my hand, quick," and Bud bent and stretched his free hand down to Marshall, who, with a face as white as death, was vainly struggling to climb up the almost perpendicular side of the rock down which he had slid.
BUD BENT AND STRETCHED HIS FREE HAND DOWN TO MARSHALL.
Marshall saw the hand and caught it, as a drowning man would grasp a beam of wood floating within his reach.
There was a terrible wrench on the arms and bodies of the two boys, but neither broke his hold; and, with a tremendous pull, Marshall was jerked up on the ledge of rock on which they were standing, and, in another moment the three had climbed to safety, just as the flood swept by them, so close that they were covered with the foam that rode on its top.
For a minute the three stood panting and trembling where they were; and then they climbed to the broad ledge where all had halted out of reach of the flood.
Mr. Conroyal gripped Thure's hand and held it warmly for a minute; but he did not speak a word. There was no need; for Thure understood.