e twenty feet below, where they hung in darkness. For
himself there was nothing but to drop after his accoutrements. At one
point the horizontal footing ledge below jutted out in a blunt tongue
something like six feet; this tongue was where he must land; elsewhere
the ledge narrowed to only a foothold for a sober man already on it.

Laramie found an old mackinaw of Hawk's, put it on over his coat, and
padding his back under it with the pieces into which he tore a quilt,
strapped the mackinaw tight and returned to look over the ledge. He
thought he knew precisely where the tongue lay, but wanted a little
daylight to dispel any misgiving about letting go at a point where he
might drop two hundred feet instead of twenty.

From the abutment the depths of the canyon looked in the half light
pretty black, but its recesses hid no terrors of sentiment for Laramie.
Fairly serene and stuffed in his baggy mackinaw, he lay for a few
minutes flat on his stomach peering over the edge. Far below he could
hear the rush of the river. Day was racing toward the mountain tops
and diffusing its reflected light into their recesses. The rock tongue
below outlined itself faintly in an almost impenetrable gloom. Waiting
no longer, Laramie, with a careful hand-hold, let himself down over the
face of the abutment and hung for an instant suspended. Loosing one
hand he swung sidewise and threw back his head. The fingers of the
other hand, straightened by his weight, let go.

Falling like a plummet, one of his heels smashed into the rocky gravel
and he struck the ledge on his back. With such instinct as the swift
drop left him he threw himself toward the canyon wall when he landed
and, shocked though he was, tried to rise.

He could not get a breath, much less move. His mind remained perfectly
clear, but the fall left him momentarily paralyzed. His efforts to
regain his breath, to make himself breathe, were astonishingly futile,
and he lay annoyed at his helplessness. It seemed as if minute after
minute passed. Listening, he heard sounds above. Daylight was coming
fast and every ray of it meant a slenderer chance of escape.

To his relief, his lungs filled a little. Soon they were doing more.
He found he could move. He turned to his side, and, beginning life
over again, crawled on hands and knees to where his belt, revolver and
rifle hung suspended. He stood up, got out of the mackinaw, adjusted
his belt and revolver, and with