“What? Are you going down there?” ejaculated Elfreda.
“Yes. I do it nearly every day. Wish to come with me?”
“In order to break my neck? Oh, no,” replied the young lawyer.
The hotel man laughed as he turned and leaped out over the precipice and landed lightly on a narrow ledge of rock. Scarcely pausing to regain his balance, he sprang to another rock and on from rock to rock with the skill of a mountain goat until he reached the bottom.
Emma Dean had watched this feat intently, face flushed and eyes bright.
“No, you’ll not do as he’s done, Emma,” chortled Stacy. “You’re a ’fraid-cat and don’t dare do what we men do.” With the words Stacy took a running start and leaped for the ledge on which the hotel man had first landed. Stacy tottered, but before losing his balance entirely he sprang for the next rock, and so saved himself from a plunge into the abyss.
While the Overlanders and the hotel guests were still gasping they were startled again by seeing Emma leap from the top and go lightly from rock to rock as she made the perilous descent to the bottom of the gorge.
Hippy had run forward with the evident intention of following the reckless pair, even if he could not prevent the foolish act; but Tom put his hand on the lieutenant’s arm.
“No use, Hippy. They’ll either reach the bottom safely or—Well, in that case, you would not be in time to prevent the accident.”
The hotel guests, with a less personal interest in the outcome, watched the pair with fascination. Emma, light, graceful, and sure-footed, reached the bottom and turned to wave her hand to those above. But poor clumsy Chunky jumped and rolled and stumbled, and when he finally reached the floor of the gorge, though alive and not seriously hurt, was torn and disheveled and scratched, with blood oozing from superficial cuts.