He saw that Nick Carter, Patsy, Adil, Jefferson Arnold, and the four natives of the party were gazing at him anxiously, and he knew that Nick had waved to him, while saying something that Chick could not make out.
“It’s no use!” he groaned. “This is where I pass in! Well, I’ll take this brute with me!”
He struggled frantically to keep on the sloping ledge, while holding tightly to the other man’s arm.
“You go!” grunted the native, in laconic English. “You go!”
“Wonder whether that is all he knows of United States,” thought Chick.
It may be wondered that Chick would pay attention to such a triviality as this Hindu’s knowledge of English at such a time, when inevitable death seemed to stare him in the face.
The answer to that is that, in moments of awful danger, the mind will often run on things that are of no importance. Many a soldier in a wild bayonet or cavalry charge goes to his death humming ragtime without knowing what he is doing.
“You go!” repeated the tugging, straining man from the mountains.
As he said this again, Chick’s foot slipped from the sloping rocky ledge, and he was hurled into space!