“Once years ago I dived off here and I thought I’d never reach the water,” Connie went on. “I did it on a dare.”
“You jumped from this cliff?” Cecil asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Connie admitted, “but it was a silly thing to do. I’ll never try it again.”
Cecil remained silent but the expression on his face disclosed that he doubted the girl’s story. Somewhat nettled, Connie said quietly to Helena and the teachers:
“If you care to step over this way I’ll show you another pretty view of the valley. On a clear day you can see the cliff dwellings from here.”
The three women followed her a short distance away. Lefty and Cecil were left alone at the edge of the cliff. Connie paid no heed to them until a few minutes later when she was startled by the sound of their voices. The men were arguing in loud, angry tones.
“That’s the last crack I’ll take from you,” she heard Lefty say in a deadly drawl. “Now it’s your turn to take one from me!”
His fist shot out, connecting squarely under Cecil’s jaw. It was not a hard blow, but the young man staggered backwards. He stumbled over a stone and the soft rock gave way beneath his feet. Lefty darted forward to save him, but he was too late.
With a terrified shriek Cecil tumbled headlong over the precipice.