'That's why they weren't hurrying,' he said bitterly.
For once Roy seemed cooler than Ken. Throwing himself flat on his face, he wriggled forward till nearly half his body was over the edge.
'Hold my legs,' he said, and Ken, horrified at the other's rashness, obeyed.
A moment later he was on his feet again. There was a queer glimmer in his eyes.
'There's a chance yet. I've spotted a ledge. Don't count on it. I don't know whether we can reach it. But it's worth trying. Come on.'
He hurried back down the edge of the cliff for about thirty paces, then looked over again.
'Here it is. It's a goodish way down. But I've tackled places as bad in the North Island mountains. Will you risk it?'
'I'd risk anything rather than Kemp,' Ken answered curtly.
'Then I'll go first. Lie down on your face, and give me your hands. Quickly. Those beggars mustn't see us.'
Ken obeyed instantly. He knew nothing of mountaineering himself, but realised that Roy did. Without a moment's hesitation Roy turned round with his back to the ravine, and catching Ken's hands, let himself drop quietly till his long body dangled at full length against the face of the cliff.