eard the injured man
speak.

"It cleared my body. I'm fast by the hand," said Nasmyth.

Three or four minutes had slipped by before the rest scrambled upon
the ledge with handspikes, and then it cost them a determined effort
before they moved the redwood log an inch or two. Gordon, kneeling by
Nasmyth's side, drew the crushed arm from under it. Nasmyth raised
himself on one elbow, and lifted a red and pulpy hand that hung from
the wrist. With an effort that set his face awry, he straightened it.

"I can move it," he said. "I don't know how it got under the thing, or
what hit me in the face."

"It doesn't matter, either," said Gordon quietly. "Can you get up?"

Nasmyth blinked at him. "Of course," he answered. "As a general thing,
I walk with my legs. They're not hurt."

Nasmyth staggered to his feet, and, while Gordon grasped his shoulder,
floundered over the log staging laid athwart the fall and back to the
shanty. Gordon was busy with him there for some time. After the
crushed hand had been bound up Gordon flung the door open and spoke to
the men outside.

"It's only his hand, and there's nothing broken," he announced. "You
can get your dinner. We'll see about heaving the derrick up when
you've eaten."

He went back and filled Nasmyth's pipe.

"I expect it hurts," he said.

Nasmyth nodded. "Yes," he replied, "quite enough."

"Well," said Gordon, "I don't know that it's any consolation, but if
you expose it at this temperature, it's going to hurt you considerably
more. You can't do anything worth while with one hand, and that the
one you don't generally use, either. There's a rip upon your face that
may give you trouble, too. I'm going to pack you out to-morrow."

"The difficulty is that I'm not disposed to go."

"Your wishes are not going to be consulted. If there's no other way,
I'll appeal to the boys. I'd let you stay if you were a reasonable
man, and would lie quiet beside the stove until that hand got better;
but since it's quite clear that nobody could keep you there, you're
starting to-morrow for Waynefleet's ranch."

Gordon turned to Waynefleet. "We'll lay you off for a week. There's a
little business waiting at the settlement, anyway, and you can see
about getting the new tools and provisions in."

Waynefleet's face was expressive of a vast relief. The few bitter
weeks spent in the canyon had taken a good deal of the keenness he had
once displayed out of him.

"I certainly think the arran