"Mike get lil' gal down," concluded he.
"You can't budge it, Mike. I've tried in every way," wept Don, who was more frightened at seeing his beloved twin hanging so high above his head, than Dot was.
Mike had no intention of using the machinery to lower the derrick, but he resorted to an Indian manner of rescue.
He sought for and found a rope coiled up near some trees. In this he made a loop which he flung with such dexterity that it shot over the upper end of the derrick, just above the grapple that held the cables. By pulling on the other end of the rope, Mike slipped the knot so hard and fast that nothing could have moved it from the grapple.
He then ran the other end of the rope about the trunk of a tree in a line where Dorothy hung. This end he fastened, and Mike then started, hand over hand, up the inclined rope until he reached the cable where Dorothy was suspended. Here he threw an arm over the cable and twisted his legs about the rope. In this way he kept his hold of the rope while sliding himself closer to the little girl. In a short time he saw what had clutched her.
"Doot, put arms in Mike's neck!" advised the Indian.
Dot turned her head as far as she could and saw Mike's head just beside her. She tried to squirm about but could only get her left arm about the Indian's neck.
"Sure as anything!" replied the brave little girl.
"No hands slip?" queried Mike.