Then as the girl lost all awareness of time, she caught the flash of a lighted lantern. Her rescuer appeared again at the top of the ravine and lowered a rope. She grasped it, wrapping it tightly about her wrist, and climbed as best she could while the man pulled from above.
At last Penny reached the top, falling in an exhausted heap on the snow. Raising her head she stared into the face of her rescuer. The man was Peter Jasko.
He recognized her at the same instant.
“You!” he exclaimed.
For one disturbing moment Penny thought the old man meant to push her back down into the yawning ravine. In the yellow glow of the lantern, the expression of his face was terrifying.
Gaining control of himself, Peter Jasko demanded gruffly: “Hurt?”
“I’ve twisted my ankle.” Penny pulled herself up from the ground, took a step, and recoiled with pain.
“Let me have a look at it.”
Jasko bent down and examined the ankle.
“No bones broken,” he said. “You’re luckier than you deserve. Any fool who doesn’t know enough to keep off skis ought to be crippled for life!”