“I’ll remember,” panted Saxe.
“That’s right. Now then, I think that is all, except a final word. There is no danger for you to dread. The rope is new and strong, and I am at one end.”
“You will not let it slip through your hands?”
Dale smiled at him sadly, and shook his head.
“Ready?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Take off your hat.”
Saxe obeyed, and Dale removed his and knelt down in the snow, Saxe slowly sinking upon his knees.
There was a minute’s silence as a brief, heartfelt prayer was offered up for help: and then Dale sprang to his feet with an eager, bright, cheerful look upon his face, and, clapping a hand on either side of Saxe’s waist, he lifted him by his belt and set him down again.
“Why, I could draw up half a dozen of you,” he said. “Now, steady! Down with you, and slide over. Saxe, you are going to the rescue of a fellow-man.”