CIDENT

When Fred felt himself falling he immediately relaxed every muscle in
his body. That is a trick known to athletes the world over. The ordinary
person would on the contrary contract his muscles; so that on striking
he must suffer violently in consequence. A baby will frequently fall
several stories, and seem to have received no injury at all, where a
grown man would have been killed. The secret is in its unconsciousness
of peril, and consequently it lands like a bag of salt, instead of a
hard rock.

It seemed as though he must have dropped many feet before Fred struck
bottom. He lay there a few seconds, wondering whether he had really
sustained any damage.

"Might as well know the worst," he finally muttered, struggling to his
knees, and finally to his feet; when he stretched his arms, bent his
body, and then gave a little chuckle.

"Well, talk about your luck," he remarked to himself; "if this don't
just beat all. Don't believe I've so much as strained the tendon of a
finger. And yet it must have been a twelve or fifteen foot drop. Whew!"

He turned his gaze upward. There was the mouth of the pit plainly seen,
for the blue October sky lay beyond. He could also make out where he had
torn through the weeds and green brush that had so artfully hidden the
mouth of the hole from even his watchful eyes.

"Well," he continued to remark; "this is a fine business, I must say. It
ends my time-taking for to-day, sure. Even if I manage to crawl up out
of here, enough of my precious minutes will have gone glimmering to
upset all my calculations. But I'm not out of the scrape yet. Now to see
about that same climb."

Up to the time he set to work with this object in view, Fred had not the
least idea he would find it a very difficult job. He was soon undeceived
in that particular.

"Say, the sides of this pit are as hard as flint, and slippery as glass.
I don't seem able to dig my toes in worth a cent," he presently
remarked, stopping to get his breath after a violent exertion, which had
netted no result in progress.

For the first time Fred began to feel a trifle bothered. He had escaped
injury in a way that seemed little short of miraculous; but if he had to
stay there all night it would prove no joke.

He made another desperate effort to climb the straight wall, selecting
a spot that seemed to offer more advantages than the rest.

Five minutes later he had to confess himself worsted in the attempt.
Somehow he