“We must make an effort, Hip,” answered Tom.
“I trust to Stacy’s luck to get him through, but please make haste,” begged Grace.
“How?” demanded Tom.
“Climb down the way we came up. In that way we shall be able to see what lies beyond the slope on which he slid down,” suggested Grace Harlowe.
The Overlanders moved with one accord, sliding and stumbling over their trail as they descended, keeping their gaze to the right of them in hope of seeing Stacy. The fat boy, however, was not yet within view, and they looked aghast at the side of the mountain down which he had fallen.
“You see,” said Tom, nodding to Grace. “No hope at all.”
“I don’t agree with you. Hark!” Grace held up a warning hand.
“I hear it! It’s Stacy! It’s Stacy!” yelled Lieutenant Wingate. “Where are you?”
They caught the fat boy’s reply, but failed to understand what he said. That did not matter. The great truth was that he was still alive.
“Where are you?” roared Hippy.