ne this time," he said. "She's
going to be heavier when we heave her clear of the river."

This, of course, was correct, and it was clear to Nasmyth that it was
only by a strenuous effort that his comrades were raising the stone
then. Still, it must be lifted, and he tightened his grasp upon the
handle.

"Heave! Lift her out!" he said.

The veins rose swollen on their foreheads, and they gasped as they
obeyed him, but as the stone rose dripping there was an ominous
creaking overhead.

"Guess she's drawing the anchor-bolts," cried one. "We'll fetch the
whole thing down. Shall I let her run?"

Nasmyth flung a sharp glance at the big iron holdfast sunk in the rock
above. There would, he knew, be trouble if that or the wire guy gave
way, but it was only at some hazard that anything could be done in the
canyon.

"Hold on!" he said hoarsely. "Slack that guy, and let her swing."

There was a clink and jar as the clutch took the weight off them; a
wire rope set up a harsh rasping, and as Gordon jerked a guiding-line
across the river, the great boom swung, trailing the heavy stone just
above the water. Then the ominous creak grew sharper, and one of them
shouted.

"Jump!" he said. "She's going!"

Two of them sprang on the instant into the pool, and washed out with
the crackling ice-cake into the rapid at the tail of it. It was
precisely what most men who could swim would have done, but Nasmyth
stayed, and Mattawa stayed with him. Nasmyth did not think very
clearly, but he remembered subconsciously what the construction of
that derrick had cost him. There was a lever which would release the
load and let it run. He had his hand on it when he turned to his
companion.

"Strip that handle, Tom," he said.

The iron crank that would have hurled him into the river as its span
fell with a rattle, and that was one peril gone; but the lever he
grasped was difficult to move, and his hands were stiff and numb.
Still he persisted, and Mattawa watched him, because there was only
room for one, until there was a crash above them, and the tilted top
of the great boom came down. Mattawa, flattened against the rock side,
held his breath as the mass of timber rushed towards the pool, and
next moment saw that Nasmyth was no longer standing on the shelf.
Nasmyth lay partly beneath the shattered winch, and his face was grey,
except for a red scar down one side of it. His eyes, however, were
open, and Mattawa gasped with relief when he h