“Yo’ kin jest bet I will.”
“Whurroo, there naygur!” cried Barney from below. “Wud yez be afther letting down a rope to Misther Frank. Quick, now, or yez won’t have the toime.”
Pomp acted quickly.
The darky carried constantly a lariat at his waste.
This he lowered over the edge and down to the point where Frank was hanging suspended between earth and sky.
Pomp had acted with great dispatch, but even as the rope went over the edge, a warning cry went up from Barney below.
“My God! I am falling!” cried Frank, with horror.
His hands were slipping over the edge of the jutting bit of rock to which he clung.
The next moment they released their grip entirely and down he went.
But, as good fortune had it, just below him was a stump growing out of the cliff.