In a moment this cord was dangling from his hands down the side of the chasm. Rapidly he coiled it up and held it as he would a lariat.
The sound of the footsteps had ceased. Trim cautiously made his way around the corner of the ledge from where he had seen his two enemies appear.
A few strides brought him to level ground beyond the edge of the chasm. He thought he saw a figure dodging among the trees at a little distance. He lay flat on the ground and waited. Presently[Pg 32] he saw a white man drawing carefully near the edge of the chasm.
“This must be King Mulvey,” thought Trim, “and it looks as if he had heard my shrieks and the howls of one of those fellows and had come out to see what was going on.”
This was indeed the case. Mulvey, who was dressed more like a savage than a white man, and who carried a fine cord in one hand, crept to the edge of the rock and looked over. From that point he could see down to the shelf where Trim had had his struggle.
Nobody was in sight. Mulvey drew himself up and looked around in evident surprise and alarm.
“That cord,” thought Trim, “is undoubtedly the one with which he committed his murders. He did the Chinese bowstring act with it, and he has done it for the last time, although he’s got it now with the hope of twisting it around my neck.”
Mulvey once more looked over as if he still hoped to see some sign of his men below.
Trim arose and advanced carefully toward him. Mulvey heard him, and started up suddenly.
This was what Trim wanted, for it gave him a good mark for his throw. There was a whir of flying rope, and the next instant Mulvey’s neck was in a noose.